#the main difference is just her nose cause why did they make it tiny and in the middle of her face

[pufffinn]

the way they decided to animate mo in earthspark pisses me off so much so everytime i watch it i take screenshots so i can edit her to look like an actual person 🫶 cause cmon literally every other person looks decent why would they do this to my girl

[a-little-unsteddie]

Give Love a Chance || Original Post

the other day @ladykailitha posted something that just sparked so much joy, i decided i absolutely had to expand upon and write a full story abt it. idk how fast i’ll work on this, as my main focus currently is on the big bang fic, but i wanted to post a prologue/teaser of sorts. (side note: i am definitely stealing piratefishmama’s layout, shhh)

enjoy! -rowan

Steve wasn’t sure how he had gotten here, to be honest. Well, he did, but he didn’t know it would actually get this far. He would like to place the blame on either Dustin or Robin—or both, both was good, too. The point was, Steve was completely faultless in it.

When Steve got home earlier, after a long day at work, he had checked the mail, as he usually does. He saw a letter addressed to him, which, to be fair, makes sense, seeing as it was in his mailbox, but it was the sender that had surprised him. It had been several weeks—at least—since Robin and Dustin had cornered him and forced him to fill out an application to be a bachelor on Give Love a Chance, and he had honestly forgotten about it. He had only agreed to submit an application to the show because he had been so sure that he wasn’t going to make the cut. Who would want to watch a dumb reality love gameshow with Steve as the bachelor? A middle school guidance counselor with a five year old daughter?

Steve had still held that opinion even as he opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. The confidence in his thoughts only waned when he began to read the letter, his eyes had slowly widened and his mouth fell open. He reached for his cell, instinctually calling Robin as he reread the contents of the letter.

“Y’ello?”

“Did you seriously just answer with—nevermind. Robin tell me why the fuck I’m staring at a letter telling me I was chosen to be on Give Love a Chance?” He asked, pacing the length of his kitchen.

“Oh my God!” Robin shouted from his phone, causing Steve to wince and adjust his hearing aid. “Why do you sound upset? This is what you agreed to! This is why we sent in the application in the first place! This is great news!”

“Robin, you and I both know that I only agreed because I thought nothing would come of it.” Steve said flatly, checking the time on the stove. He still had twenty or so minutes before he needed to leave to grab Matilda from preschool. “I’m going to tell them I changed my mind.”

“Absolutely not! I’ll never forgive you. Dustin will never forgive you.”

“What? Am I supposed to just do the show?”

“Yes!” Robin said enthusiastically. Steve let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What am I going to do with Mattie, huh? I can’t just take her with me, she has school!”

“Dustin already told you that he and Will would take her in!”

“‘Take her in’? Rob, she isn’t a stray cat. She’s a whole tiny human.” Steve said with heavy exasperation. “He may have said that, but that doesn’t mean he will say the same thing now! There’s a difference between us joking about me getting accepted and the reality of taking care of a four year old!” Steve walked to the kitchen sink, filled himself a glass of tap water and set it to the side.

“So, we ask them again! I’m sure they’ll agree! You know they’ve been wanting to adopt! You can think of this as practice for them!”

Steve stared blankly out of the window above his kitchen sink, then groaned loudly and tipped his head back to glare at the ceiling.

“I don’t think I can leave her for the month—or more—it’ll take to film.” Steve admitted with a frown. He could immediately feel Robin’s shift in demeanor with the soft sigh she let out.

“Oh, dingus. You’ll be okay. We can video call her everyday while we're gone.” Robin said softly, trying to soothe him. “I think you should give it a go. You deserve to give love a chance.”

Steve let out a loud groan, which dissolved into a soft laugh. “You did not just say that.”

“I did.”

“That was so bad.”

“I know. But it’s true!”

“You’ll be with me?”

“Every step of the way.”

“..Fine.”

—x—

Dear Steve Harrington,

Congratulations! You have been selected as one of the bachelors to move forward into the next stage—interviewing and filming! We believe you are a perfect fit, and cannot wait to have you at our Los Angeles studio!

If you are still interested, please contact us via email to receive more details about what comes next.

Thank you,

Murray Bauman, Host of ‘Give Love a Chance’

[missmcspooks]

THE DARK HISTORY BEHIND THE WIZARD OF OZ

Everyone knows about the 1939 movie “The Wizard of Oz” with its fantasy storytelling and musical numbers, along with its very memorable characters, Dorothy, The Cowardly Lion, The Tin Man, and The Scarecrow. People normally think back and remember a young girl and her cute tiny dog Toto skipping down the yellow brick road, with encounters of funny munchkins and two witches, good and evil. No one could forget the clicking of the red sparkly slippers so Dorothy could find her way back home. But did anyone stop and think about how the movie was made? How were the actors treated all those years on set? Most people are left unaware of the horrible treatment the cast endured, and the movie's dark history has been left tucked away in the dark. 

DOROTHY

Dorothy, played by Judy Garland, was the main actress and star of the movie. However, her role in the movie caused herself a lot of suffering. Judy was originally competing with Shirley Temple for the Dorothy role, (and her career comes with its own dark history), but Shirley ended up backing out of the running as she didn’t believe that she’d be able to play the role perfectly, and didn’t want to possibly jeopardize her career. Therefore, Judy was given the role. She was 16 when they started filming, and the directors weren’t happy with the way that she looked. Not only did they want her to look like a younger girl, they wanted to make her look like Shirley Temple. Judy was called fat and was forced to lose 12 pounds, and she was forced to wear a very tight corset to help hide her womanly figure. She was given a strict diet of just black coffee, chicken soup, and cottage cheese. Judy picked up smoking cigarettes and smoked up to 80 cigarettes daily to help keep her appetite down. She was also given caps to put onto her crooked teeth, and even put stuff inside of her nose to make it look more like Shirley’s. The director, (there were 4 different ones by the time the movie was completed), didn’t even want to use Judy in the red slippers close up shots, and she had someone stand in for her. This isn’t even the worst thing that she had to go through during this production. She was also prescribed amphetamines to keep her wait down, and then was given barbiturates to help her sleep after extremely long work days. She became addicted to these drugs and continued to use them for the rest of her life, which ultimately was the cause of her death in 1969 when she died of an overdose, leaving her husband and children behind. Judy was also sexually harassed by many of the munchkins, who would touch her without permission and put their hands underneath her dress. One of the directors also harassed her. Director Viktor Fleming also slapped her across the face when she kept giggling in one of the scenes, which ironically was the famous slap scene between her and the Cowardly Lion. Even though Judy was the star of the movie, she was paid much less for her hard work and dedication to the film, only earning $500 a week, while the Scarecrow and the Tin Man earned around $3,000 a week. She wasn’t the only one being paid unfairly, as Toto made more money than most of the munchkins, earning herself a whopping $125 per week. 

TIN MAN

But if anyone in this movie earned themselves the title for worst costume ever, it’s the Tin Man. Buddy Ebsen was the original Tin Man actor, until he landed himself in the hospital after contracting aluminum poisoning from the metallic makeup that was painted on his face every single day. Buddy was in the hospital for weeks while the director kept pushing him to come back to work even though he was severely sick, and threatening to fire him if he didn’t. Whelp, he was fired and due to contracts, the replacement actor, Jack Haley was forced into the role. No one was informed on why the previous actor couldn’t come back, but the makeup was replaced with aluminum paste instead of powder, which ended up causing an eye infection. Not only was the makeup horrible, but the costume was made completely out of metal, so the actors couldn’t even sit down the entire day. If they needed to rest, they would lean themselves against a wall. 

THE COWARDLY LION

This role was played by Bert Lahr, who had to put up with a lot of crap during his time in the costume. It was smelly, heavy, and HOT. The poor man was dying of heat exhaustion due to the hide being super heavy, as it was made of real lion hide. It weighed around 80-90 pounds! He sweated so much that it took two people every day to ring the sweat out of the costume and dry it. He was also not allowed to eat very much due to his makeup being very difficult and time consuming to put on. He tried surviving on liquids like chicken broth, milkshakes and smoothies, but after years of production he finally put his foot down and told them to just re-do the makeup after he eats lunch. 

THE SCARECROW

Ray Bolger played the role of the Scarecrow and also suffered with costume struggles. His makeup left him with scars on his face that took an entire year to finally disappear completely. The makeup quite literally burned his face! His costume was also made with real straw, and he was completely covered with it. The straw even went over his ears, which made it very hard to hear anything, and he felt like he was yelling out his lines instead of talking, since he couldn’t even hear himself speak. 

THE WICKED WITCH

Speaking of being burned, the Wicked Witch, played by Margaret Hamilton, also landed herself in the hospital after a smoke scene. She was supposed to puff away in smoke during an escape in Munchkin Land, but the trapdoor that she was supposed to fall into didn’t open, which caused her broom and hat to go up in flames. This caused bad burns on her face and hands, and the paramedics had to use alcohol to take off her makeup, which was also toxic and caused her pain. It took her weeks for the green to fade off of her skin after the movie was completed. After she returned to work she refused to do any more scenes that required smoke, and her stunt double stood in for her. Also, her dressing room was awful compared to the good witch, Glinda. Glinda’s room was big and beautiful, while her room was small, bland, and boring. She would often sneak into Glinda’s room on the days she wasn’t supposed to be on set. 

ADDITIONAL DARK SECRETS

In one of the scenes, Dorothy, Toto, and the Cowardly Lion fall asleep in a poppy field, waking up to snowflakes falling onto them. These snowflakes were actually made of asbestos, which is toxic. They were originally unaware of the toxicity of this commonly used fake snow, but by the time they realized it, it was too late to help the cast who were exposed to it. 

Many of the Munchkins were very inappropriate. Not only for the sexual harassment of 16 year old Judy Garland, but the police were called multiple times due to their aggressive drunken behavior, gambling, and prostitution at the hotel that the cast were staying at. One of the Munchkins actually got stuck inside a toilet bowl while drunk on his lunch break and needed to be rescued. 

The original Wizard of Oz book, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” is actually very dark and disturbing. Tiger-bear hybrids were killed in a crevasse, the Tin Man decapitated a wildcat and 40 wolves using an ax, and a giant swarm of bumble bees died while trying to sting Dorothy and her friends. 

The set was extremely hot due to very bright lighting. Temperatures would often be over 100 degrees, which caused an issue with carbon dioxide poisoning.

[donghyuckcuyhgnod]

OUR LITTLE SECRET.

park jisung x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack

warnings: swearing, haechan sees reader naked for like two seconds, implications of showering with jisung, jisung’s clothes are too big for reader, implies that reader has long & dark hair, reader uses she/her pronouns

2.2k words

you were jisung’s little secret. as an idol, being in a relationship was not only risky, but hard to contain. not only did jisung worry about his own repuatation, but the most important thing to him was your happiness and your safety. and if the world knew about you, he was sure that both of those would be at risk. so he kept you to himself; not even his closest friends and fellow members knowing about you.

you didn’t mind, of course. you appreciated the way he took your feelings into consideration. you didn’t want to be famous, not one bit. you didn’t want to be known as the girl who dates an idol. jisung meant the world to you, and you didn’t want anything to get in the way of that.

so, the two of you opted for hanging out only when the fellow dreamies, who also happened to be jisung’s dormmates, weren’t home. and after your departure, he would make sure that every tiny trace of you was gone. he thought he’d been caught just recently—jaemin had found a piece of long dark hair in the laundry room and was quite puzzled. of course, jisung feigned the same amount of confusion as the other boys. and luckily, he wasn’t questioned.

or even when renjun found a tube of lipgloss in between the couch cushions when he was cleaning one day. luckily, donghyuck’s sister had visited recently before that which made a great excuse as to why there could be a tube of lipgloss in the couch. however, jisung couldn’t help but taste that same lipgloss on his lips from the day before when the dreamies weren’t home.

but he hasn’t been caught, and he hadn’t planned on getting caught any time soon. it’s been over a year since the two of you began dating, and to be honest, both of you were quite shocked at how long you’ve kept this secret. jisung promised you that one day, when ready, he’d gladly introduce you to the members; but for now, laying low was the only viable option.

you sighed at the feeling of the hot water trickling down your back, your hands running through your hair to get the suds out. the only type of wash jisung had in the shower was men’s shampoo, but the smell was absolutely heavenly so you weren’t really complaining. he had just previously gotten out, opting to let you finish washing your hair while he searched for a movie for the two of you to watch before you had to leave the dorms.

you heard the knob of the bathroom door turning, a smile immediately adorning your face at the thought of your boyfriend’s pretty face, free of any makeup and hair completley natural. you were about to greet him, until you heard a voice that definitely wasn’t jisung’s.

“jisung, we’re home a little early. jeno forgot to text you that we were on our way back,” you heard a high-pitched voice say, and you could lightly make out the shadow of a figure walking towards the sink in the bathroom. your eyes widened, a state of pure panic taking over your body.

shit, what do i do now? i can’t say anything, my voice clearly isn’t jisung’s! but if i stay silent, it’ll be weird! oh, fuck!

“dude?” the boy said after another moment, confusion laced in his voice at the lack of response. your hands flew to your forehead in frustration, holding your breath in a nervous habit. the figure walked a bit closer towards the closed shower curtain, and you could see the way he bent down and picked something up.

shit.

“bro, why are there women’s underwear on your floor? and a bra?” you heard a laugh. “i had no idea you liked to wear these types of things, jisung,” the boy teased, and you could practically feel the smugness in his tone. suddenly, you heard the voice of your lovely boyfriend. finally.

“hyuck! h-hey, what’s up?” jisung casually asked, and you could clearly hear the nervousness in his voice. you could make out his figure faintly through the curtain, his hands on his hips as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“oh- jisung? why is the shower running if you’re not in it?” the boy questioned, a tint of suspicion in his voice.

“oh, you know. just cleaning the tub!” jisung laughed it off, and you rolled your eyes at his pathetic excuse and terrible lying skills.

“cleaning? dude, you never clean!” the boy, that you now know as hyuck, laughed. “let’s see just how good you cleaned the bathtub then,” he mocked, and the panic began to rise in you once again as you saw his figure get closer and closer to the shower curtain. and suddenly, there were fingers hooked around the ends of the curtain and a panicked jisung yelling, “no! hyung, stop!”

and before you knew it, your eyes met a pair of brown ones that had blown incredibly big at the sight of a girl in the familiar shower. the scream you let out was loud and ear-piercing as you tried your best to cover yourself, a similar noise coming from the boy you’d never met before.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” he screamed, immediately covering his eyes, running out of the bathroom as you heard his loud footsteps. you stopped the water, not knowing what else to do as you heard jisung chase after him.

“THERE’S A GIRL IN OUR SHOWER!”

suddenly, a series of voices began to reach your ears, a loud and shocked “THERE’S A GIRL IN OUR SHOWER!?” coming from another voice, but this one a bit deeper. you cringed, an overwhelming amount of regret taking over you. as fast as you could, you exited the bathroom, thanking the gods above that your boyfriend’s bedroom was only one room over. you threw on the first thing that you could find in jisung’s closet—a large shirt and a pair of sweat shorts.

after speedily getting dressed, you made your way towards the door of jisung’s bedroom. your hand hesitated on the knob, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you prepared yourself for an interesting encounter, and also to properly explain yourself; although, you weren’t really sure there was a proper way to explain all of this.

opening the door, you slowly and nervously made your way down the hall and nearing the living room, where several different voices were bickering and talking back and forth—you being the main subject.

rounding the corner, you caught sight of the five boys you had heard so much about. your body shook with nerves and your wet hair felt heavier than normal on your head and your shoulders. they hadn’t heard or seen you yet, their minds too occupied with questioning and interrogating the youngest of the group.

you lightly cleared your throat, gaining the attention of all six boys as they went completely silent. all twelve eyes were on you, wide and shocked, confusion evident in the way they looked at you. jisung silently cooed at the way you looked with his baggy clothes on your small figure, but now was not the time for that.

“who are you!?” one of them screeched, his bright orange hair swaying as he shook his head in confusion. before you could even get a word out, jisung interrupted.

“chenle! don’t talk to her like that!” he defended you. the way the five unfamiliar boys stared at you had involuntarily made you shiver, your nerves causing you to flinch away from their stares.

“guys, this is. . . uhm,” jisung cleared his throat, looking down at the ground as his cheeks went red. he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with his five best friends, and especially you. your eyes sparkled at him, a gentle smile taking over your face at his cute antics. although, you couldn’t really blame him for acting in such ways. this was an awkward situation. “this is y/n. my girlfriend,” he blurted out, his voice going high-pitched at the end of his sentence.

“girlfriend?” another said, his eyes going wide as he stared at jisung. “since when have you had a girlfriend?” he said, his pink hair nearly covering his wide eyes.

“about a year and a half,” you responded, and they seemed shocked to hear you speak. your voice was small and nervous, but had a sweetness to it that made their hearts melt. you were so small compared to them, jisung’s clothes hanging off of your dainty figure like a dress.

“you’ve been keeping this from us for over a year!?”

“yes, renjun!” jisung responded with annoyance. “she just said that, didn’t she?”

“oh, don’t you dare talk to me like that-“ renjun started, but was cut off by the final boy, his round glasses slowly sliding down his nose as he shushed renjun.

“i’m really sorry,” you said, your eyes wide in regret as you nervously played with your fingers.

“why are you apologizing? it’s my fault i didn’t tell them,” jisung said, a look of sincerity in his eyes.

“no, no, no. it’s not your fault. i’m sorry for intruding when you guys didn’t even know i existed. it was wrong of me and i apologize. i’m the one who agreed to see jisung in secret, when i should’ve been encouraging him to be truthful with you all. i-i didn’t mean to offend any of you,” you spoke softly, and the boys couldn’t help but soften at the way you basically shriveled into a ball from nervousness.

“it’s okay,” hyuck said, noticing the way jisung looked at you with sadness in his eyes. he had never seen such a look on the younger’s face, and it almost made him feel bad for making such a scene. almost. “it’s jisung’s fault. he’s the idiot for keeping an entire person from us,” he finished.

“hey!” jisung defended, and you couldn’t help but giggle at that, covering your face to hide your blushing and embarassed cheeks. the boys smiled at you, somehow finding you quite adorable. it had only been a mere few minutes and they had barely even spoke to you, yet somehow you were already like a little sister to them. maybe it was the look in jisung’s eyes when you emerged from his bedroom, or maybe it was the way you smiled at jisung after hyuck made you laugh.

“you guys are all assholes, you know! instead of approaching the situation calmly you just automatically freaked out on me!” jisung said, huffing as he stomped his foot.

“calmly!? park jisung, i saw a naked girl in our shower. how the hell was i supposed to react calmly to that!?” hyuck said, causing you to break out into giggles once again as he shouted at your boyfriend. the boys joined along in your light laughter, all amused; except for your boyfriend, of course.

“well. . . i don’t know! also, why are you still holding those!?” jisung shouted, noticing the familiar pair of blue underwear in hyuck’s hands. your boyfriend snatched them from his friend’s grip, hiding them behind his back. you yelped in embarrassment, for they weren’t necessarily a normal pair of underwear—but rather, lack-there-of.

“yeah? why is your hair wet, too?” chenle pointed out, the boys all noticing his dripping wet locks, similar to yours. jisung’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in shock. suddenly, his entire face was a deep shade of red and his eyes were trembling. “wh-what are you talking about? i took one before her!”

“yeah, right! your hair would’ve been dry by now! our little maknae isn’t so little anymore, huh?” the boy with the pink hair smirked, a teasing laugh escaping his lips as the boys joined along. “shut up, jaemin!”

“hey, i don’t blame you, sung! from what i saw, she’s got a nice pair of-“

“don’t you dare say it!” he yelled at hyuck. you put your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“our maknae can get it!” the boy with glasses said. “shut up, jeno!” jisung responded, clearly at a loss for words.

you giggled again, your mood suddenly lifting. you no longer felt weird and embarassed by the way they looked at you, but rather comfortable. they had already made you laugh quite a few times, and you had only just met them. you looked at jisung and the way he sighed in frustration, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and the way they nagged and teased the younger.

despite jisung’s protests, you could already make out the clear brother-like relationship between the boys. it was evident in the way they teased him, their remarks full of affection. weirdly enough, you enjoyed seeing so much love being put forth towards your boyfriend, no matter how much he disagreed.

for the days after that, you no longer saw jisung in secret. you started to spend a lot more time at the dorms, whether the dreamies were there or not. you even began spending nights there, up until sunrise playing games with jisung and his fellow members. you felt closer to your boyfriend than ever, and you were happy to call the five other boys your new friends.

maybe being a secret wasn’t the best option, afrerall.

all rights reserved, © euphoriclele 2021

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Two: The Perfect Partner Project

Warning!: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing. Please keep scrolling if that’s not for you. 💜

Summary: After you’re freed from Dreykov’s control you team up with Yelena and Natasha to take down the red room.

Chapter One : Chemical Subjugation

“I thought you had a jet?” Yelena cocks her head to the side, as you approach the decrepit helicopter.

“I asked for one.” Natasha mutters, under her breath.

“This isn’t a jet.” You add, the closer you get, the worse it becomes.

“I realize that!” The man who’d been standing with his back to you whips around to defend himself. This must be Natasha’s friend. “But you know what you didn’t give me? Time. Or money. I’m not made of jets.”

“Aww, he’s sensitive.” Yelena coos, “I see why you keep him around.”

“I’m not sensitive.” He protests.

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Listen you-“ he breaks off. “Who are you again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Yelena introduces you, climbing aboard. “She’s my partner….” She shrugs, “you name it really.”

“Partner works.” You chuckle, joining her in the cockpit.

“If you say so,” Yelena waves a dismissive hand. Getting a feel for the controls.

“Wonderful,” the man acknowledges your title.

“Thanks for the ride, Dick.” You salute him through the front window.

“It’s Rick,” he calls back.

“I know.” You give him a thumbs up. Waiting until he turns back to his conversation with Natasha. Taking the opportunity to lean down, kissing the top of Yelena’s head.

She cranes her head back to see you.

You nuzzle your nose against hers, until an exaggeration throat clearing tears you apart.

“We don’t have time for this.” Natasha, of course.

Yelena scowls at her, “yeah, yeah.”

Breaking Alexei out of a maximum security prison using only an earpiece, stowed inside of an action figure is a terrible plan. Nearly as bad as using him for information on how to locate a facility that’s impossible to find, run by a man who’s too slippery to kill.

That doesn’t stop you though. Generally speaking it’s going well. Until one of Yelena’s shots triggers an avalanche.

“Woah.” She marvels at the scene before you, her masterpiece. “Now this would be a cool way to die.”

“Yeah,” you holler back, sarcastically, over the chaos.

“You were getting no where with your tiny guns.” Yelena points out.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” you remind her.

“Fast is better. Solves problems.”

“And clearly creates new ones.” You jerk your chin toward the mountain.

“Get us out of here!” Natasha’s voice blares through the headset.

“I’m on it.” Yelena assures her. Moving into a better position for extraction. “Watch the side window.”

At her request you shuffle to the main ship. The prison guards are still putting up a fight. Inmates running in every direction.

“Alright, Natasha’s with us.” You confirm, once she’s secured her place on the black hanging rope. “Circle between the walls on your left to grab Alexei.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Yelena snarks, steering the plane away from another explosion.

“You’re doing a great job.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Fine,” you huff. “The spot is tight and the angle is bad. I don’t know how you’re gonna pull this off.”

Yelena is silent, processing the information. “Lie to me a little.” She amends.

“You got this.” The blinding wall of white threatens to swallow Alexei whole. You’re holding your breath too as the rope moves past the metal bridge he’s standing on.

“Well?” She yelps, impatiently.

“I don’t know. I can’t see.” Once the snow and ice clears, you spot two figures carefully scaling the rope. “Yelena?”

“Hmm.” She hums, expecting the worst.

“I knew you had it.”

“Yes,” Yelena sighs, before falling into easy laughter. More invested in this than she will ever admit.

————————————————————-

Unfortunately, entertaining as Alexei may be, he has next to no information about Dreykov.

Instead he drawls on and on about how the man wronged him. Stuck him on that “boring mission” in Ohio. Then tossed him in jail and threw away the key because of…hair? A party?

You weren’t entirely sure. You excuse yourself to the vacant seat beside Yelena. Giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

Full lips twitch up into a grin.

“Tell us where the red room is.” Natasha grumbles.

“I have no idea!” He shouts, and then in Russian. “Why don’t you ask Melina?”

“Mom Melina?” Yelena whips her head around.

“We thought she was dead.”

“You cannot kill a fox that swift,” Alexei sucks in a breath.

You choke on your own saliva.

“Ew.” Natasha winces.

“What?” The man shrugs. “She was the master mind. His architect.”

“Are you telling me that Melina works for the red room present day?” Natasha leans closer.

“Yes,” he nods. “Remotely, outside Saint Petersburg.”

“I don’t think we have enough fuel for Saint Petersburg.” Yelena decides, after checking the needle on the gauge.

“We’ll make it.” Alexei waves away her concern.

“Ok,” Yelena mutters.

You look over at her.

“We’re not going to make it.” She mouths, with a shake of her head.

You smirk, closing your eyes and relaxing into the seat. It’ll be nice while it lasts.

Before long you’re falling into a controlled crash, at the Saint Petersburg city limit.

“So,” Yelena jumps out onto the dirt. “Are we there yet?”

“No, you will know when we are there.” Alexei begins snorting like a pig.

——————————————————————-

You take a seat in the chair opposite Yelena inside Melina’s humble abode. Her pigs can be heard carrying on out in the yard and Alexei’s early snorting makes perfect sense now.

Your eyes dart around the three women at the table uncomfortably as noises continue erupting from the bathroom. “Everything alright in there?” You bellow, loud enough for your voice to carry down the hallway.

Another groan is the only response.

“Let’s drink,” Melina’s voice breaks the tension. She fills each of your shot glasses in turn.

“Thanks,” you raise the clear liquid and toss it back. Feeling it burn it’s way down your throat before going back for another.

After a moment a clunking from the doorway calls your attention.

“It still fits.” Alexei announces, having stuffed himself into his old costume.

Melina whistles, with a slow clasp as he approaches the seat at the head of the table. “I never washed it once. Come eat.”

He hums a tune under his breath, reliving days gone by. “Look at us, family back together again.” If you didn’t know better you’d think it was sweet, he seems…happy.

“Well,” Melina swallows, dishing mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Seeing as our family construct was just a calculated ruse that only lasted three years, I’m not sure we can use this term anymore.”

“Agreed,” Natasha perks up. “So here’s what’s going to happen-“

“Reunion then.” Alexei offers instead. “I want to say something right off the bat.” He says to the woman who’d once been his wife. “You haven’t aged a day. Just as beautiful and supple as the day they staged our marriage.”

Melina moves closer, “you got fat, but still good.”

“I just got out of prison,” he confesses, “I have a lot of energy.”

“Ooohooo.” The older woman exhales.

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that forces its way from your chest. Covering your mouth with your hand as Yelena takes another shot.

“Please don’t do that.” Beside you Natasha looks physically ill as she protests. Swallowing down her disgust she begins again. “So listen. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

“Natasha don’t slouch. You’re going to get a back hunch.” Melina flicks her fork in Natasha’s direction.

“What? I’m not slouching? I don’t slouch.”

“Eh, listen to your mother. Up! Up!” Alexei joins in.

“I told you, I don’t want any food.” Yelena pushes her plate away.

“Eat a little something Yelena, for God’s sake.” Melina says, piling food onto her plate.

Yelena groans.

“Are you kidding me? Stop it all of you. This is ridiculous.” Natasha bites out.

“Me? I didn’t do anything. That’s not fair!” Yelena argues.

“It’s true, she’s just sitting there.” You shrug.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Natasha roars, effectively silencing the room. “You’re going to give us the location of the red room.”

Melina purses her lips, avoiding the topic. “It’s like when you told them they could stay up to catch Santa Claus.”

“That was fun!” Alexei recalls. “Look out girls, he comes down the chimney. And when the cookies are gone you know he is there.”

Melina clicks her tongue.

“What? I want them to follow their dreams, shoot for the stars girls.”

“No good.” Melina disagreed.

“Killing Dreykov isn’t a fantasy. It’s unfinished business.” Natasha looks between the two of them.

“You cannot defeat someone who commands the very will of others.” Melina says, softly. “You never got to see the culmination of what we started in America. After the perfect partner project was rejected, we took a different route.”

“The perfect partner project?” You repeat, racking your brain. You’ve heard that somewhere before.

“Why’d Dreykov scrap the project?” Natasha’s voice cracks like a whip.

“I don’t know.” Melina’s eyes dart down to her plate.

You can see that she’s lying.

“That’s when we turned our focus to chemical subjugation.” Melina continues, “the control is so profound that when the subject is instructed to stop breathing. They have no choice but to obey.”

Yelena shakes her head. Perfect lips turned into a frown. Hazel eyes glistening with tears as they meet your own.

“That’s enough.” You warn the older woman, seeing the expression. The last thing you want to do is cause her anymore pain.

“No.” The blonde insists. “Tell me more about the partner project.”

“Yelena, we don’t have to do this.” You shake your head.

“Yes, we do.” Yelena slams her fist against the table in frustration.

“The extraction was messy to start. A high profile missing children’s case in North America. But the bond was very strong. Enhanced through targeted conditioning and subliminal messages. Until something happened that Dreykov did not anticipate.”

“What happened?” Natasha wonders.

“The girls became…attached.” Melina’s mouth twitches, “so they were separated.”

“Do you know who they tested on?”

Melina’s guilty eyes land on you. “I am sorry.”

“No,” you suspected, maybe. Somewhere in the back of your mind. You spent the first six months in the red room under solitary confinement. Rapidly and rigorously conditioned in a matter of weeks instead of years. Preparing you…for her. The teenager girl you couldn’t stand, the woman you eventually came to love.

“You,” Yelena laughs, although it’s not particularly funny. “Us.”

“Yelena-“ you reach for her hand across the table.

“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t tell me that it will be ok. They stole your life because of me. I never asked them to do that. I never asked for you!”

“I know.” You assure her. None of this was ever her fault.

“That’s right, because you know everything. Don’t you, Y/N?” Yelena scoffs, her hands balling into fists on either side of her dinner plate. “You know what I think. You know what I feel. Look at you. Ready to come out of your own skin because I am unhappy. Prepared to move mountains, prepared to start wars.”

“Like you’re any better.” You challenge, she knows you like the back of her hand.

“That is my point!”

“I’m sorry that this happened.” Alexei interrupts. Surely gearing up for a ‘father of the year’ speech. “But we are here now. All together! Wasn’t that worth a few years of-“

“Shut up!” Natasha growls at him. “You are an idiot.”

No response.

She moves her attention to Melina, “and you’re a coward. You’re a coward. And our family was never real. So there’s nothing to hold on to. We’re moving on.”

“Never family, huh?” Alexei throws up his hands. “In my heart I am simple man. For a couple deep undercover Russian agents I think we did pretty great as parents.”

“Yes,” Melina nods her agreement. “We had our orders and we played our roles to perfection.”

“Who cares? That wasn’t real.”

“What?” Yelena’s voice breaks.

“That wasn’t real.” Natasha repeats for emphasis. “Who cares?”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me. You are my mother!” Yelena all but sobs. “You are my real mother, the closest thing I ever had to one. The best parts of my life were fake.” She pauses, drawing in a steadying breath. “And none of you told me.”

You swipe at the tear that escapes your eye. Traitorously running it’s way down your cheek. It was never fake. Perhaps arranged, but never fake. The way you want to wrap her up in your arms, protect her from her own sadness. The way your heart breaks in time with hers. That is real. It has to be.

She turns back to the woman who she considered a mother. “Those agents that you chemically subjugated around the globe…that was me too.”

Finally she addresses Natasha, “and you. You got out. It is impossible to escape. Are you going to say anything?” A pause. “No.”

She pushes her chair from the table, taking the bottle with her as she stands. Turning her back in the four of you.

“Yelena.” Natasha calls after her. Guilt eating away from the inside out.

“No.” Yelena dismisses her a second time. Moving into the next room and closing the glass doors behind her.

You look down at the plate of food in front of you, now lacking any appeal.

“I had no idea.” Melina whispers, wringing her hands.

“I’ll go to talk to her.” Alexei offers, rising to his feet.

“About what?” You hum, “how you handed her over to a life of pain and suffering at the age of six? How you experimented on her? How you didn’t come back for her? Yeah. I’m sure that’s just what she needs right now.”

With that you excuse yourself, back out to the front yard. Slowly circling the perimeter of Melina’s cottage. Not looking for anything in particular. Just killing time until someone produces information about how to get to Dreykov.

The blinding light that appears moments later catches you off guard. A team of men exit one of the three circling planes. Since you couldn’t find the red room, this is the next best thing.

—————————————————————

Waking up is disorienting, coming to from a tranquilizer always is. It’s bright, almost blindingly so. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. You attempt to use your hands to cover them, only you can’t move your hands.

Leaning up as much as your restraints will allow you discover that you’re strapped to an operating table. And you’re not alone.

“Yelena?”

“Miss American Pie,” she drawls from a similar position. Neither of which gives you much chance to escape whatever fate awaits.

“You’re not allowed to die mad at me,” you grumble.

“I’m not mad at you.” She blinks slowly, as the surgeon marks a clean line at the perimeter of her hairline. “I’m just mad.”

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh, turning back to the light above the gurney. “Me too.”

“You are my perfect partner.” She murmurs, while gloved hands busy themselves with preparations. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

There’s a beat of silence between you. Acceptance…peace. “I love you, you know.”

At this Yelena smiles. A genuine, happy, smile. “I know.”

Something to remember her by.

The syringe at your neck releases a sedative into your blood and you fall asleep. One last time.

—————————————————————

Dying is peaceful, gently rocking in the ocean. Then swaying more violently, giving you the urge to be seasick. Your body should move with the force of it. But something holds you steady, something warm.

“Yelena?” You croak.

“Not quite, but there is resemblance, huh?” A different voice greets you.

“Alexei?” You realize, pushing yourself into a sitting position.

“That’s a girl, up you go.” He says, clapping a hand against your back.

“What happened?” You ask, “where’s Yelena?”

“Still inside,” Melina confirms. “Brought you here so you’d be safe.”

“Natasha?”

“They’re coming.”

You sigh, ready to jump out the open door of the hovering chopper.

“What are you doing?” Alexei demands.

“Going to find them.”

“Wait! Y/N, wait.” He pleads. “There’s something I must tell you. I tried to tell Yelena but I don’t have earpiece.”

“What?” Your brows furrow.

“Never mind that.” He shakes his head. “The point, is you were right. What you said about Yelena. We complete our mission, we move on. But losing her, losing my girls is my biggest regret.”

“I’ll tell her, don’t worry.” You give his shoulder a squeeze.

“Please let me finish.” He stops you again. “She carried your unconscious body through burning building, through explosions. This is not easy, you are very heavy.”

“Oh, Alexei!” Melina scolds him.

“Not that.” He amends, “you know what I mean. It is dead weight.”

You nod, “sure.”

“I look at you together and I see true love and I am happy. You are family now, and this time…we are going to stay together. We’re not leaving without you.” The older man says, helping you onto the metal grate of the falling red room.

Not a second later an explosion rings through your ears, sending Melina, Alexei and your get away vehicle spiraling to the ground.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you’ll make a new plan.

You run toward the flames and gunfire. “Yelena!” You call out, searching the surrounding area.

“Y/N,” Natasha finds you. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t find Yelena.”

“I thought she was with you.” The woman frowns.

“Well she wasn’t!” You bite out, fear and frustration getting the best of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her. You go-“ the red head pauses. Her eyes focused on something behind your head.

You turn to follow Natasha’s gaze. Finding her. Yelena. The wild, unpredictable, firecracker of a woman. On the wing of the jet with Dreykov inside.

“Yelena! Stop!” You rush over, realizing what she’s about to do. Her staff poised at the propeller.

She pauses at the sound of your voice.

“He’s not worth it.” No one is worth it. Not when she is the cost.

Yelena smiles, eyes alight with mischief, “I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

Natasha tries to reason with her. “Don’t do it!”

“This was fun.” Yelena tells her sister, jamming the propeller and effectively destroying Dreykov’s jet. The force of the explosions sends her backwards, hurtling towards the ground with the remaining pieces of the red room.

“Put your pack on and jump.” Natasha tells you. Rushing for the nearest parachute. “I’m going to save my sister.” She dives head first over the edge, without putting on her harness.

“Not if I get there first,” you challenge. This would be a cool way to die.

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

[ethanesimp]

AMAMI PER SEMPRE // E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x Fem! Reader

Summary: Ethan isn’t the brightest—or the best—when it comes to surprises, so his attempt at proposing to you causes a few misunderstandings...

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny tiny mention of death, some angst, other than that it’s pure fluff and me projecting my obsession with old books onto the reader.

Request: Ethan planning to propose and acting super nervous and strange (a bit angsty bc the reader doesn’t know what’s happening) and ending in pure fluff.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: After more than a year of stepping foot into a bookstore for *cough* obvious reasons, I got to go to one yesterday. While looking at some second-hand books I had an idea that I decided to combine with @kawaiiwxnnabe​’s lovely request to bring you this. I hope you enjoy! <3 

Ethan had been mindlessly listening to Damiano sing Amandoti when the thought of marrying you first seriously crossed his mind. It had been a thing he’d thought of countless times ever since he started dating you, but it had never remained with as much intensity as it had that time. 

Damiano, who had noticed his friend’s face illuminate all of a sudden, had a talk with him that once and for all convinced Ethan that it was the right time and you were the right person. He didn’t sleep at all that night because he couldn’t stop thinking about what would be the perfect way to propose to you. It was no secret to him—or anyone who knew you—that you were a hopeless romantic. 

There was nothing that made you happier than simple and small details that came from the heart. That was the reason why you had developed an affinity towards old books. Not only did they have a particular and special scent that reminded you of vanilla and chocolate, but some had the luck—as you liked to call it—of being embellished by notes on margins or dedications on covers. Whether they were about love, sorrow, or maybe even hate, they still showed a small glimpse into the life of the person who had once owned it. Those notes told a story that would prevail even long after they were gone from the earth. 

Ever since he had noticed that small obsession of yours, Ethan had tried to help you expand your treasured collection by bringing you back books he found at antique stores from every country the band played in. 

During a visit to Spain after he initially had his stirring thought, Ethan took the chance to visit one of the second-hand shops he’d found during a night stroll with Victoria, who had disappeared into a bakery. His main goal was to find something different from the usual books he brought back for you. 

After he walked into the store and vaguely told the old lady at the counter about his idea in the best Spanish he could muster, she smiled warmly at him and guided him to the very back of the tiny shop where a beautiful and worn out bookshelf sat in all its glory, filled with as many books as it could hold. 

He immediately started searching around for the perfect book, but it proved to be harder than he initially thought it’d be. After searching around for more than an hour, all he had found was a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s tales and poems with a heartbreaking note to someone’s dead lover. While it had almost brought him to tears and was a special thing he’d buy to give to you later, it wasn’t exactly the best thing to help him carry out his plan.   

Victoria walked into the shop when he was about to give up and, fully aware of his plan, started looking around without saying a word to him. They both searched around the messy piles of books for something. It didn’t take long for her to stumble across three books held together by a lilac satin ribbon. 

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. All three contained a note on the very first page right under the title, but the last one stood out above the other two because, according to his basic knowledge of Spanish, it ended with the very question he wanted to ask ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? Or ‘Will you marry me?’. He bought all three of them after a huge smile and a thumbs up from Victoria.  

What he hadn’t expected was for them to remain hidden in a drawer he knew you never opened underneath piles of clothes. Ever since he came back from their small trip to Spain, Ethan had tried to ask the question about six times, but always ended up choking on his words and saying something else. In fact, the first time he ever tried, Ethan chickened out at the last second and ended up giving you the Edgar Allan Poe anthology instead.

You were still none the wiser to his plan even after he’d asked about your opinion on marriage a few times. Anyone would’ve probably caught up with what was going on already, but you were always so busy with things happening around you that you didn’t connect his awkward and nervous attitude with his questions.

You didn’t start giving his actions a second thought until one night… You had been cooped up in your office all day working on a new project you were supposed to present to your boss by the end of the week when you suddenly felt the urge to get up and walk around the house.

Ethan was casually sitting on the couch as he whispered unintelligible words into his phone. You supposed he was on a call with a friend or maybe his manager and was trying to be quiet to avoid disturbing you, but then he hung up the call with a panicked expression the moment he noticed you. After that, you started thinking back on the way he had been behaving ever since he returned and it all raised the suspicion that there was something strange going on. 

It didn’t get any better when he kept on acting weird. Simple things that he had allowed you to do, like using his phone to take pictures because it had a better camera than yours, now seemed to make him almost mad. He’d even snapped at you once when you tried to grab it to take a picture with him. Even if Ethan had apologized right away, it still didn’t calm you down, especially because he had gone as far as to change the password on it.

It almost felt like he was walking on eggshells around you and you didn’t like it one bit. Your relationship had always been about honesty and worked because of constant communication. Everything was just so strange that your mind couldn’t help but think of the worst.

You were an imaginative person who never had any difficulties when it came to envisioning things clearly. Unfortunately, that also applied to every negative thought that crossed your mind, so it wasn’t hard for you to start coming up with the worst explanations as to why he was acting so suspicious. It didn’t help much that he had been busier than normal because the band was wrapping up on their latest album, so you hadn’t had the opportunity to sit down and voice all your concerns, to ask if something was going on and if there was a way to fix it. 

The morning of your anniversary, you’d finally had enough. You had woken up, expecting to feel Ethan’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist and to receive a shower of kisses the moment he noticed you were awake, but no. There was no Ethan and the side of his bed was already neatly made.

Your disappointment only grew when he wasn’t in the kitchen or his small studio where he had his drums. You doubted he was in the house at all. 

It was a thing that wouldn’t have affected you much had he done it any other time, but with everything that had been going on as of late, you could only fear the worst. So, without being able to control yourself, you started making the worst conclusions. You’d always been fully aware that he loved you, but all the signs undoubtedly pointed at him meeting someone new… And maybe he was going to leave you for them as well… during your anniversary.

That was all you needed to break into tears. You climbed back into bed and cried for what seemed to be hours. Even since you got together, you had thought of him as your person, your forever. The thought of him leaving you broke your heart into tiny pieces.

Ethan arrived home only a few minutes after you’d buried yourself underneath all the blankets and cried out all your worries. When he was about to open the door to your bedroom, he stopped. Were you crying? 

He stood there in complete silence for a few seconds until he was more than sure that you were, in fact, crying. Ethan rushed inside and he felt his heart break at the sight of you looking so heartbroken, and it didn’t get any better when he heard a whimper come out of your mouth at the sight of him. You cuddled deeper into the bedsheets and turned away from him.

Ethan sat on your side of the bed and, as delicately as possible, he cupped your face into his warm hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Amore,” He said in a quiet voice, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You tried to turn away from him, but his grip on your face stopped you from doing so. You placed one of your hands on top of his and gave it a firm squeeze. No part of you was ready to have that conversation with him because that was going to be it and you were going to have to watch him leave…

So, with a lot of courage, you spoke the first words that came to mind, “You know, i-it’s okay if you’ve found someone else,” You caressed his cheek softly as more tears started spilling down your face, “You can tell me if you have.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words and the only thing he could do was shake his head no, “What? Found someone else? What would make you say such a thing dolcezza?”

Then, before you could even answer, realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt like the stupidest living being on the face of the Earth. He pinched his nose and sighed, annoyed at himself.

“Fuck… I’m so fucking stupid. Please don’t ever think of something like that. I was just… I-I,” Clueless as to what to say, Ethan pressed his lips against yours to kiss you slowly, hoping it spoke more than his words ever could. He could still taste a trace of the salty tears that had fallen on your lips and he couldn’t help but shed a few of his own at the thought that he’d been the one to make you cry.

After pulling away, Ethan pressed his forehead to yours and brushed his nose against yours while his arms held you as close as possible, “Will you close your eyes for just a second, amore mio? I promise everything will make so much sense soon.”

You nodded and kept your eyes closed as you felt him get up from the bed. You heard him open and close a few drawers, and look around for something for a while before he sat back on the bed. Ethan grabbed your hands in his and slowly slipped the three small books into your grasp.

You opened his eyes after a small sound of approval from him and smiled when you saw the three old books held together by a ribbon and the pretty pink rose that had been carefully been slipped into the first book and the ribbon.

You gently removed the flower and placed it on your side. Then you undid the simple knot and picked up the first book, “Wuthering Heights?” You questioned.

He nodded, “Yeah… At least I think that’s it. I hope I didn’t bring back some sketchy book or some shit,” Ethan scratched his neck and you giggled as you opened it on the first page. Your fingers brushed over the letters neatly written down in fountain pen.  

After clearing your throat, you started reading the first dedication out loud. Since your Spanish wasn’t exactly the best either, you had to pause every once in a while to translate all the words, “May 17, 1850… My dearest Helena, I hope this book reaches you in great condition, being apart from you is one of the hardest challenges I have ever had to face, one of the most painful as well. I hope you can find me in between these pages as you read and remember how much I love you, remember how much I long to be back in your arms and kiss your lips. Sincerely, Alejandro.”

You closed it and placed it back on the bed before opening the second book and doing the same thing with the third, “January 24, 1855. Carolina, nothing I’ve ever experienced has gotten close to being as terrible as not having you in my arms. Apologies are overdue… long overdue. Words have never been my strongest suit, yet I still hope I can coherently express just how much I love you, all of you. I’m afraid I’m already too late since you will soon be betrothed to someone else and there will be nothing I can do by then.

 “Still, I hope with everything in my being that this arrives sooner so you’re aware of how sorry I am. I hope you remember that I would do anything you asked without a single complaint just to watch that lovely smile I adore so much appear on your face. If you ever come back to me, I promise with every fiber of my being, and I’ll be dammed if I don’t keep my promise, that I will leave everything behind and escape with you. Anywhere, any time. So with that, I ask a question that will hopefully have a yes as an answer. Will you marry me? With love, Javier.”

Before you could close it, Ethan stopped you and timidly asked for you to open the book on the very last page. You did it and looked back at him with confusion at the sight of his writing on the page, “Read this one out loud for me. Will you Y/N?” You nodded and mumbled a small ‘of course’ before clearing your throat to get rid of the knot that had formed. 

“October 21, 2025… Y/N, my one true love, I’ve always hoped to make a gesture that will remind you of your treasured books. I’ve never been one great with words spoken out loud, so I sought inspiration from those before me who were just as in love with someone as I am with you. Ever since I met you I dreamt of one day settling down with you, of having our small home in the countryside as you’ve always dreamed of. Maybe even doing some of those cloying gestures people seem to do in fiction and dedicate to you the most beautiful love poems I lay eyes on. 

“I’ve wondered for a while how I could ever take the step that would bring me closer to that goal, yet every time I try, words seem to get stuck in my throat with no way out and I end up in square one all over again. It is with this note that I hope to finally take a step in the right direction because I know you’re it for me. You’re my person, my forever, and there’s nothing I would love more than to share my life with you. Sei la mia migliore amica e il mio unico vero amore. Ti chiedo di accettare il mio amore, il mio nome e tutto quello che sono.” (You are my best friend and my one true love. I ask you to accept my love, my name, and everything I am.)

When your eyes spotted the four words that followed, you slowly lowered the book, “Will you marry me?” You both said at the same time, although yours sounded more like an unintelligible mumble. Only then did you notice him down on one knee right in front of you. He held a velvet box with one of the most beautiful rings sitting inside of it 

A hand went to cover your mouth as tears started falling down your face. This time, happy and free of worry. You could only nod repeatedly, overcome with pure joy as your heart swelled with love.

He slowly slid the ring into your finger and grabbed your face to kiss you once again, “I’m so sorry I made you think something else was going on. I just kept backtracking every time I tried to tell you. Not because I was regretting the decision but because I didn’t want to lose you.”

You shook your head as a silent way of saying it was alright and brushed his hair back with your fingers, “The important thing is that you’ve done it and you’re not going to lose me, no matter how hard you try. I’ll always be right here because I love you and I’ll always be yours.”

[schibi12]

I'm about to rant dear Tumblr follower or mutual so if you don't like that well keep on scrolling

I love Ever After High, it's whole theme of legacy and destiny with interesting characters and storyline it was great and I always wanted an Ever After High Doll but I never got one because and I quote "I am a bit to old to still be playing with dolls" but then Disney came along and ruined everything and they made Descendants which to be honest I like in theory but they failed the execution, it's an interesting concept but there are several things I don't like and they failed to do where I feel Ever After High accomplished better for example the designs yes Ever After High may look abit similar because they are a doll franchise but you still can distinguish each and every character be it the main character or a background one while Descendants has the anime problem

" I wonder which ones the main character? Is it that brunette, no it's that one with bright purple hair!"

And the designs are uninspiring these are the children of Disney Heroes and Villains and this is the best you could do. Audrey becomes a villain in the third movie and as we see her color palette is baby pink and pastel blue I think a villain with those colors could be different and unique villain design but they ruined they gave her pink, black and purple which are already common villain colors.

Apparently you just need to dye your hair an unnatural color wear some leather and your part of the Isle of the Lost and that is if you're a major character if not you are just dressed in rags and dirty. I honestly can't remember if the background characters from Descendants have names they are that forgettable well to me but Compare it with Ever After High background characters they may not be relevant to the story but I remember them Tiny the Giant, Humphrey Dumpty, Hopper the third I think, Melody Piper and I didn't Google none of them that's memorable they are!

Also why is Mal the only one who has magical powers?! Like the Evil queen makes potions in her original movie shouldn't Evie be able to brew potions or Jafar was a sorcerer shouldn't Jay should also have magical powers what about the children of heroes Jane is the daughter of the Fairy Godmother shouldn't she have magical powers or Ben son of Belle and Beast shouldn't he have like some remnants of the beast curse sort of like a werewolf and he doesn't know if he truly belongs in Auradon cause of how much they villainized the Villains and their children so he does his best to hide that form and how his perfect kid image is all a facade and how he truly feels the best and free in his beast form and the VK find out and instead of rejecting him they accept him and help him keep his secret and forming a genuine friendship with them, I just gave you a more interesting story arc that I just invented at this moment with meaningful and topical themes than what Disney did with this characters in 3 movies.

Or why doesn't Audrey have remnants of the sleeping curse or is that too on the nose Disney of the franchise you plagiarized of this from, speaking of Ever After High no matter if royal or rebel, good or bad everybody had a magical gift, Cedar couldn't lie, Kitty could teleport, Duchess could dance on water, Raven and Faybelle had magical powers, Briar had remnants of the sleeping curse.

Also why in Descendants are all the Villains bad parents like only the good villain parent I remember is Dr Facilier I think but yeah apparently in the Descendants universe only heroes are good parents and villains are bad parents like there is no Dr Doofenshmirtz who is a villain but is a pretty good father and not trying to enforce their beliefs and evil agenda to their kids.

But in Ever After High there are good villain parents like the Queen of Hearts and sort of bad hero parents like Snow White.

You wanna know the worst thing that happened after Disney ruined the franchise? Is that we where robbed of the Monster High and Ever After High crossover as fan of the both series and watching all the movies where they referenced and hinted to the crossover just for it to never happened! And yes I am aware that they crossovered in the books but I wanted my TV special ok.

And that's all I have for today I hope you enjoyed reading this rant and I will see you real soon!

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑷𝒕.2 (𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒆𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Part One

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐄𝐦𝐨/𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞) × 𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢! 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢����𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟓+𝐊

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞/𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞/𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 × 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧), 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐦! 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦!/𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐮𝐛! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @speronyx @pirate-hongjoong @multidreams-and-desires @cloudyyeonnie

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

Scrunching her eyes from the sliver of light protruding from the curtain that was left slightly open, Y/N let out a tired groan before pulling some of the navy blue blanket over her face. Feeling his lover shift in her sleep, Hongjoong slung his inked arm and placed it around her waist. Bringing his face forward, he placed a chaste kiss on her exposed shoulder.

"Morning beautiful." He greeted her with his usual manner of complimenting her.

"No........no morning..." She uttered, her voice sounding a little raspy and hoarse.

The dark ash grey male chuckled softly at her unwillingness to get up yet even though it was well past 11 a.m. His fingers traced around the dip of her hip as he hummed out a soft tune.

"Sweetheart, as much as I'd love to stay in bed and hold you for the rest of my life, you have class today and I'm needed at the shop later on." He reminded her.

Although she realized he was right, she still refused to budge and just stayed immobile. Letting out a sigh, he sat up and began to carefully turn her over to him, to which she let out a muffled whine. When she was fully turned on her back, her eyes fluttered open, her vision being blessed by the beauty of her dark and eccentric boyfriend who was donning his signature smirk as his eyes peered down at her, always seeming to stare right into her soul.

"Well? Are you ready to get up or am I going to have to get you ready myself?" He inquired, one eyebrow slightly lifted.

The warmth and comfort of the bed made her hesitant to want to leave. Reaching out, Y/N's hand slowly began tracing the outline of Hongjoong's collarbone.

"Why can't we just stay here?.....just for today? Stay and cuddle together..."

Trailing her hand down, her fingers grazed slightly over one of the piercings on his chest.

"Or .....we could do a few other things."

He let out a soft moan when she rolled his nipple between her thumb and index finger, eyes looking up at him suggestively while she bit down on her lower lip. Her other hand pushed the blanket, which was covering her, a little lower to further entice him. He could not look away at the sight of her wearing one of his many oversized band tees, his mind knowing fully well she wasn't wearing anything else underneath it. The end of it had risen up slightly that if she shifted around more, her entire bottom half would be exposed to him. When her hand threatened to go lower, he quickly caught it with his own.

"Naughty naughty kitten, trying to seduce me into fucking her into the sheets.."

Bending over, he captured her lips in a lazy and semi-messy kiss, his wet muscle poking out to lick across her upper lip.

"As if I didn't do enough of that last night."

Letting out a giggle, she let him wrap her legs around his waist before picking her up and walking towards the adjoining bathroom so they could get washed up and ready for the upcoming events in their day.

Outside in the kitchen, a handsome boy with dark brown hair and a sculpture like face pushed up the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His eyes loomed over the formulas and equations that were plastered all over the page. More than once he looked over at the notebook beside him, comparing and analyzing similarities and differences. His pencil was often tapping against the counter, following along to the beat of the song that was blasting from his phone. Occasionally, he'd find himself humming, or even singing along softly like he was currently doing at the moment.

"Fell in love with a girl at the rock show. She said what? And I told her that I didn't know..."

He had been sitting on that spot well over 3 hours, the blueberry bagel he had heated up for breakfast only had a single bite and remained untouched on a porcelain plate in front of his study materials. He let out a whispered curse under his breath as he couldn't seem to focus, his hand reaching up to rub at the side of his neck in frustration. Letting out a puff of air, he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling, thinking about many things.

Hearing the doorknob of his roommate's turn, he was not fazed at all at seeing the [insert hair color] female come out.

"Oh. Morning Yeosang." She waved at him as she made her way into the kitchen, already rummaging through the cabinets like she usually did when she stayed over.

"Morning? It's practically noon." He pointed to the clock hanging by the wall.

Y/N simply ignored him and simply poured herself a bowl of cereal. Sitting down in front of the poker faced male, she made sure not to disturb him as he concentrated on the papers in front of him. After Hongjoong and her became official, she was ultimately forced to be introduced and sometimes even cohabite to a point with him since she now spent more time at their dorm than at her own place. Not that she minded. Yeosang was a very intriguing character. He was extremely quiet at first, but soon opened up to her and became more chatty with her, even more with her than his own roommate and friend. During one of their many conversations she found out he was a natural science major, focusing specifically on chemistry, which resulted more often than not in horrible puns involving the periodic table. He had a weird yet cute obsession with chicken, often wore either beanies or snapbacks backwards and had very similar music tastes like Hongjoong, which was the main reason why they ended up becoming friends, their music. However, Yeosang wasn't as deep, dark nor tattooed like her boyfriend.

Yeosang was a skater and the biggest clue was the skateboard he left on the side of the front door, the bottom of it decked out with various stickers he placed there. God forbid if anyone that wasn't him touched his baby, all hell would break loose, as Hongjoong himself learned one time. The man himself came out of his own room after he finished placing the finishing touches on his makeup. Sliding an arm around his girlfriend, he took in the state of his friend.

"Still taking 6 hours on a chemical reaction Yeosang?" Hongjoong snorted.

"Still taking longer than your girlfriend to put on eyeliner Hongjoong?" Yeosang retaliated, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Another thing she loved about Yeosang: he was a straight up savage who could roast people harder than an oven.

Grumbling softly, Hongjoong placed a tiny peck on Y/N's lips.

"I have to go now babygirl. Meet me at the shop after class and we'll go home together." He told her.

"Which one? Hers or ours?" Yeosang snickered.

Making his way around the counter, Hongjoong held out his hand and flicked Yeosang on the head, causing him to utter an 'ow' at his ministration.

"And please try to get some air Yeo. You've been cooped up in these 4 walls too long."

After giving him a suggestion, Hongjoong was out the door and out of sight towards his part time job.

"Dark lord has no room to talk, before you came along, he'd only go out for school, work and booze." Yeosang shook his head.

Y/N giggled and got up to make her way out as well.

"He has a point. Besides, you've been stressed out recently. Why not hop on Emmy and take her out for a little spin?"

Y/N found it odd at first that Yeosang actually named his skateboard, but she figured she shouldn't have been so surprised. Hongjoong did a similar thing with his black Mustang. Closing, his textbook, Yeosang turned off the music playing on his phone and grabbed the earbuds sitting next to them.

"You know what? You're right. It doesn't look like it'll rain either."

Picking up her own bag, she followed Yeosang out the door, each of them headed towards a different direction.

"Try not to run anyone over this time." She called out to him.

"I don't run into people, they purposefully get in my way."

After waving goodbye to her, he placed the earbuds in, music already blasting full volume as he skated down the hallway, not caring about if it was allowed or not.

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

The little twinkle of the bell chimed, letting Hongjoong know that someone had just come in. Although it was well past closing time, he knew very well who it was that just strolled through those doors. He didn't even look up from his task of wiping down and sanitizing his workplace.

"Hey handsome."

Unwillingly, he smiled softly at his girlfriend's words.

"Hey gorgeous." Finally looking up, he winked at her and caused her cheeks to heat up with a light shade of pink.

Clearing her throat, she asked if he was almost done, to which he affirmed that he was indeed.

"Just let me pack up my things and then we'll go to your place and cuddle." He began putting the tattoo needles, ink and tubes into a black case, making sure it was all neatly arranged and locked tightly.

"My place? But I bought chicken. I thought we could give some to Yeosang." She held up the plastic bag that contained their purchased dinner.

Slumping an arm around her waist, Hongjoong poked his bottom lip out.

"Sometimes I think you're more nice to Yeosang than me."

She shook her head at him and his cute and subtle jealous antics.

"Kim Hongjoong, are you jealous of Yeosang?" She teased him.

Pulling her against him, he whined softly as they made their way out of the tattoo parlor. He sighed as he locked up and punched in the security code.

"I'm not jealous of him....."

Walking over to his car, he made sure to open the door first for her as he usually did every time they went out.

"I'm just making sure you're still interested in me."

He held her hand the entire ride back to her place, even against her protests and lecture about safe driving. When she pulled her hand away so he could place it on the steering wheel, it instead rested on top of her thigh, pinching it softly at times, which resulted in Y/N's own hand smacking it for going too hard at times. Hongjoong just laughed and continued his obnoxious teasing on her, loving to annoy her and get her frustrated with him. When they pulled up to her place, she didn't even allow him to open the door for her. Instead, she sauntered off inside, closing the door behind her and locking it before he could get in.

"Haha very funny babe, now please open the door."

A minute passed but still she didn't respond. Hongjoong began pressing on the doorbell repeatedly. When that still didn't work, he called her, but he was sent directly to her voice mail.

"Aish! Seriously this girl..."

Hongjoong began pounding on the door.

"Yah L/N Y/N! Open this door right now missy! You want me to get angry with you?!"

On the other side of the door, Y/N cupped a hand over her mouth, muffling her laughter at his reaction.

"If you don't open the door, I'll- I'll..........I'll serenade you so loudly your neighbors will complain."

Taking a deep breath, he was about to start singing, but Y/N instead opened the door.

"Dear God, I get punishing me, but what did my neighbors do to get tortured so mercilessly by your banshee cries?"

She finally let him in after that scene.

"I'll have you know I'm actually a pretty decent singer." He stated in a matter of factly.

"Oh I know Hongjoong." She assured him as she began serving him a plate of food.

"You do?" He was puzzled as he tried to recall a time where he sang in front of her.

Not able to suppress a smile, Y/N confessed:

"One night after you came home late and thought I was asleep, I heard you when you began singing Rebel Love Song while playing with my hair."

As she sat down the plate in front of him and looked at him, his already fair complexion seemed to grow more pale and he suddenly looked embarrassed. He awkwardly toyed with his food.

"So......you heard the entire thing...?" He opted for focusing on eating as much as he could before he completely lost his appetite.

Y/N tried to keep a straight face as she sipped on the juice from her cup, ultimately failing when she spat it back inside, almost choking on the citrus liquid. Her boyfriend now threw the unwanted chicken wing back in his plate.

"Well I guess I'm not eating tonight. Good bye. I'm going to go crawl under the bed and die of embarrassment."

She looked at Hongjoong's slumped back as he headed into her bedroom. Wanting to let him change and wash up, knowing he'd take a while removing all that makeup that for some reason never caused a breakout on his flawless skin, she began clearing out the table and washing the dishes. Making sure to wrap the leftovers so he could take to his friend, she made her way into her room where Hongjoong was already on the bed, scrolling through his phone with a cringed look on his face.

"What is it?" She asked him as she began changing into her pj's.

"My idiot roommate. Wasn't watching where he was going and ended up stumbling on a dent on the sidewalk."

Hongjoong held up his phone to let her see a picture of Yeosang's dislocated elbow. She winced back in pain as she saw it.

"Ewww! Is he ok? Does he want us to take him to the hospital?"

Hongjoong shook his head.

"Yeosang would never EVER go to the hospital because of a skating accident. Besides, he's had so many that he somehow knows how to fix them."

Pulling up another picture, he let her see a selca of Yeosang holding up a peace sign as the caption read: "Hehet. I popped it back into place."

Y/N actually thought that was funny. Yeosang was a very funny character even when he didn't try to be. Snuggling herself up to her boyfriend, she let him move her leg so it could be wrapped around him, his thumb playing with the hem of her pink shorts. His hand then trailed up, untying the drawstring before pulling them just a little bit down to expose her powerpuff girls underwear.

"Hey!" Y/N swatted his hand away when he began bursting out at her choice of 'lingerie.'

"I'm sorry! It's just so cute." He tried explaining to her.

She wasn't amused however and turned away from him, her back facing him.

"Awww come on baby. I meant it when I said it was cute. You know I didn't mean it to be mean."

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around her waist, his lips peppering kisses on her cheek and temple.

"Yeah but I bet you'd prefer it if instead it was black lace and the skin around it had ink or jewelry."

Although she meant to only mumble that under her breath, Hongjoong heard her plain and clear.

"Ok what kind of talk is that? Why are you saying such things Y/N?"

She was going to crawl under the blanket but Hongjoong gave her no time to as he rolled her onto her back so he could look at her, not about to let her go until she explained the meaning of her words.

"I mean.......Hongjoong you're the dark, mysterious emo guy every girl thirst for at campus." She began.

"Guilty as charged." He joked.

Y/N chuckled slightly at his cute joke, but then went back to her somber expression.

"But...?" He urged her to continue.

"And I'm the complete opposite of you. You're black, I'm pink. You're leather, I'm fleece......you got your fucking dick pierced while I the only thing I have pierced are my ears."

"Ok, I see your points, but I'm still lost as to where you're trying to get with all this?" He tilted his head.

"My point is this. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who matches you better? Colorful colors on her hair? Piercings cascading down her earlobes and tattoos in places only you'll be able to see?" Her eyes looked away from him, afraid to see something she wouldn't like.

Hongjoong finally understood her insecurity. He wasn't going to lie, more than once he often felt the same way towards her. Why would a beautiful, dedicated, classy, pure and sophisticated woman settle for someone like him? But he never imagined that she'd be thinking the exact same thing. His fingers brushed away the strands of hair that were covering part of her face.

"Y/N....... if I wanted someone like that, I could have hooked up with them a long time ago. But I didn't want them. I wanted you then and I only want you now and I'll still want you later on in life."

She melted at his reassuring words, eyes and lips forming into a puppy face that always made him weak.

"You mean it?"

Bending down, he placed a loving and gentle kiss on her.

"I mean it. So don't worry about getting your body pierced or tattooed." He grinned at her.

Y/N bit down on her lip as she was about to tell him something.

"Well actually........I might need your input on something..."

He motioned for her to speak up.

"I actually wanted to get a tattoo and I was wondering......if you could do it..."

His mouth dropped at her words, brain trying to process if he just heard her right.

"Are you serious or...?"

She nodded.

"I'm serious. I want to get a tattoo and I want you to do it."

Looking at his still dumbfounded expression, it was now her turn to make fun of him.

"I mean, if you don't want to, that's ok. I'll just ask San to do it. It could probably be a better idea and I could surprise you instead."

"I mean, where do you even want to get the tattoo?"

Y/N smirked as she lifted her shirt up and exposed her breasts. She trailed a line right below them and signaled exactly where she wanted to get it. Hongjoong's face flushed as he began to imagine his already sexy girlfriend with an under breast tattoo decorating her chest, causing him to feel needy in seconds.

"Fuck baby.....are you trying to kill me?" He gulped.

"So is that a yes? Can you ask San to do it and I'll show you the finished result?"

Hongjoong chuckled as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"Do you really think I'm going to let anyone else see my girlfriend's chest when only I'm allowed to? Hell no. I'll gauge their eyes out first."

Y/N let out a half squeak half moan when Hongjoong bit down on her neck, tongue gliding down her exposed skin as his hands began ridding her of her clothes one by one.

"Let me remind you that you're mine and will always be mine."

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

"Hongjoong!"

Throwing a rubber ball that struck straight into his target's head, Yeosang held up a fist in the air.

"Still got my aim." He declared, flexing his arm muscle.

Hongjoong however was not amused.

"You know...there's more than one way to dislocate an elbow than tripping on a sidewalk." He threatened him.

Letting out a small 'pfft', Yeosang took out his phone.

"Do you still have that video presentation we did for Professor Yoo's class."

"Ummm.......hold on, yeah I think so?" Hongjoong began scrolling through his phone.

"Ok well if you do, send it to me, I need to go over a few things for our upcoming midterms."

Hongjoong gave him a questioning gaze.

"Yeosang...midterms aren't until 3 months from now."

Yeosang raised an eyebrow.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Not wanting to argue with the hot headed boy, Hongjoong just went back to searching through his files and let him know he'd send it once he found it. Yeosang meanwhile went back to his room, flopping down on his bed and resumed his previous activity of watching a horror movie on his phone. Tiny snorts would occasionally come out of his mouth when a jump scare would happen or sometimes even a twisted smile would form on his face when a particularly brutal or gory scene would be displayed. Even if he was scary and dark himself, Hongjoong often judged and questioned how Yeosang could possibly sit there watching people get violently slaughtered or severed without getting fazed or even batting an eyelash. Hongjoong actually suspected Yeosang actually enjoyed it and more than once contemplated whether Yeosang or not could be a potential serial killer.......

Then he remembered the boy also had Ponytail as his ringtone to quote unquote 'Wake up in a happy and cheerful mood.'

A notification popped up. Opening his messages, he saw it was from Hongjoong himself.

'Took me a while, but here you go. Knock yourself out I guess.'

In typical Yeosang fashion, he didn't even thanked him, he simply left him on read as he usually did. Pressing play, he flipped his phone sideways so he could make it go into full screen mode. He was disoriented when he heard music playing on the black screen, knowing fully well he didn't use such kinky music like that while editing the video, in fact he didn't use any music at all.

"What the fuck?"

He squinted his eyes when a scantily clad girl came into view. A male hand, belonging to whom he presumed to be recording the video, was seen running his thumb across her luscious and red tinted lips. The hand then reached down and picked up a black leash which was attached to the black choker on her neck. It had a red heart pendant on the middle, some engraving that he couldn't make it on the center of it.

"You know what to do kitten. Put that pretty mouth of yours to work." He heard the male tell the girl in front of him.

"The fuck kind of kinky porn did he decide to send me?"

Yeosang's cringed expression soon turned to shock when the male tugged on the leash roughly, pulling the girl forward and making her full face finally show on the camera.

"Oh...my..."

He gulped as he watched none other than Y/N began to pull down, whom he assumed was Hongjoong's briefs, down his thighs. When his erect cock hit his stomach, Yeosang's eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes.

"Holy shit Joong!"

His hand covered his agaped mouth as his eyes stared intently at his roommate's most intimate part, covered in piercings that he definitely did not know about. He knew about the nipple piercings, both of them having walked around shirtless at one point in front of each other. But seeing his Hyung's dick full of jewelry started making him get hard and watching Y/N wrap her lips around it, slurping sounds coming out her mouth as she began taking him in until he hit the back of her throat was not helping his case. His hand that was resting on his thigh unconsciously moved towards the growing tent forming under his sweatpants, lightly running across his length.

He heard Hongjoong emit a low hiss when she gave him a particular hard suck.

"Fuck! You're such a hungry and desperate cockslut aren't you? How about I treat you like the whore you are and fuck your face?"

Yeosang sucked in a breath as he watched Hongjoong yanked the leash on Y/N to keep her in place as his hips began to thrust forward. Yeosang couldn't help but palm himself harder, biting down his lower lip in an effort to keep his moans down. Watching Y/N release choked moans and drool pool down her chin from how hard Hongjoong was face fucking her was honestly one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. He nearly came in his pants with the lightest of touch when he witnessed Hongjoong pull out and spurt out his cum all over her face, covering from her forehead and dripping down her cheeks and chin, her tongue darting out to swallow some of the remnants left on her lips.

Yeosang gulped as he watched the screen go black, only shuffling noises being heard for a minute or two. He debated whether he should continue watching, already feeling guilty as hell that he just watched his Hyung's girlfriend suck him off and get a facial from him. But once the screen lit up again, he nearly fell off his bed as he stared at the scene:

Y/N had her arms tied to the bedpost, crimson red ropes secured tightly on her wrists, an intricate knot placed in the center of it. Her mouth was covered by a ball gag, lace bra pulled down to expose her breasts and her panties were probably discarded somewhere on the floor. He watched Y/N anxiously shiver when Hongjoong slid his cock across her slippery folds, no doubt enjoying the feeling of his Jacob's ladder piercing grazing against her lips and aching clit. He noticed how she tried to roll her hips to feel him more, but Hongjoong's hand slammed down on her stomach and pressed her down onto the bed.

"Don't get greedy now kitten. You'll take what I give you and you'll be grateful got it?"

Hearing his dominant and commanding voice full of authority, Yeosang slipped his hand inside his pants and gripped himself at the base of his cock, unashamed by his actions and wanting to hear more of Hongjoong's domineering tone.

"Y-yes..."

Not satisfied with her answer, Hongjoong slapped her across her face before gripping her chin. It sent a terrified shiver down Yeosang's back seeing Hongjoong treat Y/N with such utter disrespect and yet......she seemed to enjoy it?

"Yes what?" Hongjoong spat out.

Y/N whimpered as she answered him.

"Yes Master."

Yeosang groaned and stopped his hand movements, not wanting to come anytime soon. Through hooded eyes, he watched the rest of the pornographic video play, from when Hongjoong pushed himself inside Y/N to when he had her trembling underneath him as he poured himself inside of her, completely and effectively fucking her dumb as she stared off somewhere completely lost. With a soft grunt and hisses, Yeosang spilled himself all over his stomach, breathing heavily after having jerked himself off to his roommate's private sex tape. Putting his phone down, he reached for the box of tissues on his dresser and began cleaning himself up....

Completely unaware of the eyes that had been watching him intently.

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

Ever since that day that Hongjoong had witnessed Yeosang touching himself to his and Y/N's secret tape, it began giving him a few ideas, ideas that weren't particularly holy at all. It most definitely was an accident and when he realized what he had sent to his roommate he was already off his bed and going over to apologize. He was expecting his somber friend to glare at him or even give him a disgusted look, but he was shocked to find him fully stroking his length, eyes glued to his phone while his mouth released some of the cutest and softest pants he'd ever heard. The sounds kept replaying in his head, especially late at night, often falling asleep to them as if they were some kind of sinful lullaby that he wanted turned into a full blown orchestral song.

And that's how his pretty girlfriend ended up dragged into his unholy desires, dressed to entice in a red two piece lingerie set that he knew would drive Yeosang insane.

"Hongjoong, do you think this is a good idea?" Her hands fidgeted with the bow attached to the middle of her panties.

When they heard the front door signal Yeosang's arrival, Hongjoong looked over at her with a smirk.

"Only one way to find out."

Adjusting the bow on her hair, Y/N watched her boyfriend walk out the room, no doubt going along with his plan of telling Yeosang he had a surprise for him. The boy was probably imagining something like stickers for his skateboard, fried chicken or some cool tshirt Hongjoong would customize for him, he really loved those gifts. Instead, he walked in to find his Hyung's girlfriend sitting on his bed, looking innocent and sexy at the same time. His eyes bulged out, cheeks reddened at the apples and he was whipping his head towards the evilly grinning male next to him, demanding an explanation.

"What? Don't you like my little surprise Sangie? I thought you'd be a little more....excited..."

Yeosang shivered lightly when Hongjoong ran his hand across his pants, gripping softly at the arousal that was forming in them.

"I don't- I don't understand....." Yeosang shyly looked to the ground, hands covering his growing arousal in embarrassment.

"Yeosang I know all about you masturbating to our sex tape."

Y/N kinda felt bad when Yeosang's expression looked guilty and ashamed of himself for even watching it in the first place. But she wasn't going to lie that it turned her on to find out the pure looking skaterboi could have his freaky side and she was more than curious to find out just how wild he could be. She heard, or more like, discerned Yeosang was apologizing to Hongjoong in a very hushed tone. Hongjoong assured him it was perfectly fine and that there was no need to be afraid, that it was after all a present to him. Seeing Yeosang conflict himself with whether this was right or not, Y/N knew it was time for her to speak up.

"Yeosangie...."

He immediately responded to her sultry call for him, ready to obey anything she said. When she patted the spot on the bed next to her, his feet quickly moved to sit next to her, although he kept his eyes on the floor, not daring to look her right in the eye and much less at her body. His cute behavior stirred something inside Y/N, a more dominant side of her wanting to come out. She began stroking his hair, which made him visible stiffen and inhale sharply.

"You can look at me Yeosang. It's ok."

Brushing the hair away from his forehead, her hand went down to his cheek, caressing it as she turned his face to look at her. He visible gulped when she asked him:

"Don't you think I look pretty?"

Unable to resist himself, he finally scanned her body, eyes tracing every curve and lingering a little too much on her exposed cleavage.

"You look so fucking pretty." He had to admit.

Hongjoong watched with a proud smirk as Yeosang let Y/N kiss him softly and slowly melt into a more heated kiss. Although he was possessive by nature, something about sharing his most prized possession with his extremely handsome best friend got him riled up and he couldn't wait until they both fucked her dumb. He was just waiting for Yeosang to flip the tables on her, cause he knew that although his girlfriend was taking the lead at the moment, practically devouring the boy inside her mouth and straddling his lap, he also knew Yeosang was more dominant by nature. He just liked to play off an innocent and naive façade only to suddenly flip the switch and have whoever he's with underneath him and obeying his orders. And that's exactly what happened.

As Y/N was getting lost into their heated and sloppy makeout session, she let out a startled grunt when Yeosang's hand gripped the back of her hair, tugging it harshly as his nose brushed across her exposed neck.

"Just cause you're on top right now, doesn't mean I'm letting you take charge. Got it little kitten?" He smirked when he heard her moan out at her favorite pet name.

"Yes Yeosangie-"

She had no time to finish her sentence because Yeosang gripped her chin tightly, effectively silencing her.

"For tonight, forget about Yeosangie. You will only address me as Sir."

With no warning, he flipped her onto the bed, pinning her arms up and diving straight for her neck, making sure to suck and bite hard enough to leave purple blotches splattered across her soft almost velvet like skin. When Y/N looked back at her boyfriend, he was already almost fully undressed, leaving only his boxers on, hand palming himself as he stared at them with lustful eyes. Cupping her breasts, Yeosang squeezed them into his hands before pulling them out of the confining garment. Having always been a boobs type of guy, he of course began to hungrily suck on them, his tongue flicking against her sensitive nipples. Y/N arched her back, her mind wondering where the fuck did the shy skater went to? Was the boy who could barely say 3 words on their first meeting also the same man that was turning her into putty the lower he began kissing down her body?

When Yeosang got in between her thighs, he could not believe how drenched she already was.

"Fuck. We've barely done anything Hyung." Yeosang pressed a finger to her clothed heat.

Finally deciding it was time to join, Hongjoong moved Y/N so that her head was resting on the edge of the bed, prompting Yeosang to move as well.

"I know. She's such a dirty little slut. Gets turned on by even the smallest of things." He teased her as his hand lightly smacked her cheek.

"Don't call her that Hyung.....she's just a little princess. Can't help it if she's just a little spoiled." Yeosang cooed as he began pulling her soaked panties off.

Y/N gasped when Yeosang blew a little air onto her dripping core, eagerly anticipating him to do something. It was Hongjoong though that made her break her gaze from him when he slapped an all too familiar pierced member on her forehead.

"Hey, just cause Yeosang is willing to go soft on you and dote on you, doesn't mean you earned it from me."

Hongjoong tilted her head lower so it'd be easier for her to take him in.

"You're going to work that filthy mouth of yours and suck me dry you dirty kitten. I don't want you getting distracted by Yeosang eating you out or else I won't let you cum tonight." He warned her before shoving his dick inside her warm mouth in one go.

Yeosang only chuckled as he leaned in closer to her heat.

"I'll make sure to make it difficult for her."

Y/N moaned around Hongjoong's dick when she felt Yeosang's wet muscle side across her slick folds. Although he did not own a tongue in like her boyfriend did, he really was making it difficult for her to focus on sucking off Hongjoong. The way he swirled his tongue around her clit, or when he'd give it a particularly harsh suck that shot waves up at her. She could feel him smiling cockily too, he knew the power he held at that moment. Using his fingers to pry her lips open, he dwelved his tongue inside her dripping hole, causing her to briefly mumble out Yeosang's name while her mouth was still stuffed with Hongjoong's cock. She let out a choked yelp when the latter forced his cock deep inside her throat, the ampallang piercing touching her uvula, as his hand came down to strike her cheek.

"You're seriously calling out another man's name after I told you to focus on me you little bitch? Are you too dumb to even do a simple order?"

Gripping the sides of her jaw, he began to fuck her face, causing Y/N to choke around his length but eventually hollowing out her cheeks to welcome his intrusion. Although Yeosang looked up just to witness the sick and twisted scene, he did not deter in his task of eating Y/N out. He was determined to have her cum all over his face. By the way her hips began rolling onto his face and her thighs were closing around his head, he knew she was definitely close. Noticing her body movements as well, Hongjoong firmly looked at Yeosang.

"Don't you dare let her cum Yeosang."

Yeosang snickered amusedly, finding it funny how Hongjoong tried to order him around. Instead, the brat in him decided to completely ignore him, burying his face deeper in her, his mouth working hard to get her to reach that release she desperately wanted to achieve. When she began squirming under him, his hand held her hips down, tongue lapping up all the sweet juices she was pouring out. Yeosang was disappointed that her pleasured moans were currently being muffled by Hongjoong's cock, the latter tensing up when he felt the vibrations all around him.

"Fucking hell!"

Pulling out of her mouth with a loud popping sound, he finished himself off as he came all over her chin and neck, face red and eyes glaring down at Yeosang, who shot him a smug smile as he wiped the remainder of her juices off his chin and nose and licked his hand when he was done.

"You're such a fucking brat." Hongjoong growled at him.

"And what are you going to do? Spank me daddy?" He scoffed at the older male.

Setting Y/N upright, Hongjoong picked her up and set her down on the chair by the computer.

"You're not allowed to move, speak or touch yourself. You'll sit there like a good little bitch and watch what happens when you test me or disobey."

Y/N quickly nodded at Hongjoong's words, watching with fear and anticipation as turned his attention back to a still defiant Yeosang. After stripping off his clothes as Hongjoong told him to, Yeosang obligingly layed on his stomach, wiggling his ass when his Hyung came up behind him. Hongjoong had a suspiciously calm smile as his hand traced the curve of his Donsaeng's back before gently kneading at the flesh on his cheeks. When Y/N saw him reach under the bed for the black velvet bag he had hid just in case, she knew exactly what he was up to and wanted to warn Yeosang, but remembered the strict command she was given.

"Gave up already Hyung? I knew you're just all talk when you said you were a Dom-"

Yeosang groaned when Hongjoong took hold of his arms and swiftly tied them behind his back. Yeosang tested the ropes binding his hands and effectively discovered that they were very tight. He inhaled deeply when he felt something like leather stroke his ass cheeks. Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle as he brought the object close to Yeosang's face so he could take a look at what it was. The brown haired male paled slightly as he looked straight at the top of a black riding crop. Hongjoong used the tip to slightly turn Yeosang's head so he could see the sadistic smile across his face.

"I'm going to show you little brat how us Doms train you into submission."

After patting that stubborn head of his friend, Hongjoong held the riding crop over his head, momentarily keeping it there to keep a suspenseful atmosphere. Y/N looked over at Yeosang with a worried look, meeting her eyes briefly, he sent a wink her way, silently assuring her that he was completely fine with it.

Swish

"Ahh!"

Yeosang let out an almost pained howl when the first strike came down on his ass.

"One." Hongjoong began.

One stroke soon turned to 5, and then 10, Yeosang's milky white skin started as a bright pink but was now a deep red. He kept his face buried in the mattress underneath him which drowned out his screams and whimpers. All throughout his ordeal, Y/N rubbed her legs together, pressing her thighs against each other, quickly becoming aroused once more and feeling needy once more. Yeosang's whining was not helping her case either, if anything his behavior was making her want to disobey her boyfriend as well, her hand creeping dangerously close to her knee.

"Are you going to apologize for being a brat now or should I keep going? The longer you drag this on, the longer it'll take for both you and Y/N to cum. I mean look at her..."

Grabbing a hold of Yeosang's hair, Hongjoong lifted his face so he could look over at the squirming girl on his chair.

"She's practically aching for you to be inside her."

Although Yeosang wanted to continue his defiance, not only was he craving his own release, but seeing Y/N made him rethink his choice.

"Yeosang, I'll tell you what. Give up now....and I'll let you take her ass."

Y/N couldn't believe her ears. Hongjoong wasn't serious was he? Yeosang sucking in a breath answered that for her, and more so when he immediately did as he was asked.

"I'm sorry f-for being a brat Hyung. I p-promise it won't happen again."

Flipping him on his back, Hongjoong gripped Yeosang's red and painfully erect cock in his hand, making the younger boy hiss in pleasure and pain.

"Tell me what you want Yeosang." Hongjoong ushered him to speak up, his thumb running across the other's slit.

"Wanna make our girl feel good. Wanna be buried inside her and fuck her like a queen."

As he spoke those words, he looked at Y/N with hooded eyes, hips bucking up as Hongjoong began stroking him gently, soft moans and grunts coming out from Yeosang's mouth, the very same ones Hongjoong wanted to hear from the beginning.

"And you will baby boy, but can you both be patient for a little bit?"

Hongjoong turned when Y/N let out a frustrated whine, bottom lip poking out.

"I'll get to you soon kitten ok? But let me help Yeosang for a little bit. He hasn't gotten a chance to come even once and he's throbbing in my hand right now."

Having been frustrated for too long, Yeosang melted into Hongjoong's touch when he picked up the pace and began to stroke him harder. He tried biting his lip in an effort to hold back his noises but Hongjoong halted his movements.

"Open your mouth and let those filthy moans come out your throat or else I'll put a cock ring on you."

As if on cue, Yeosang's began releasing the most unholy series of whimpers and whines as Hongjoong pumped him into a dazy haze that would soon be broken and explode all over his Hyung's hand. He just needed an extra push and he'd come collapsing from his already high state. Hongjoong felt when Yeosang began twitching, a sign he was going to come.

"Hyung-Hyung!-"

Hongjoong immediately dropped to his knees and opened his mouth wide to catch some of the cum that spurted out of Yeosang, leaving Y/N speechless. She knew her boyfriend was rather kinky and had interesting tastes, but this just made her let out a big 'oof' at his actions. And what followed just made her practically drip. Taking advantage of Yeosang's sensitive state, Hongjoong licked up his softening dick and made sure to press his tongue piercing into his slit, making Yeosang push him off, unable to take anymore.

"Ok baby boy, guess you're not ready for overstimulation yet." Hongjoong ruffled his hair before cupping the red faced boy's cheeks and kissing him softly, drilling his tongue in his mouth, letting him not only taste himself but allowing him to play around with his tongue piercing that always made him curious.

They were only broken from their amorous trance when they heard a frustrated squeak coming from the poor girl sitting on the chair in front of them.

"I think we've neglected our princess for too long Hyung." Yeosang was the one who got up and went over to fetch Y/N, who eagerly accepted his embrace and let him carry her over to the bed.

Hongjoong was already getting out the lube to help with the process that was about to come.

"I don't know....I'm tempted to make her wait a little more."

Y/N shook her head furiously to which Yeosang giggled.

"Don't worry princess. I'll make sure you're more than satisfied."

Turning her so her back was to his chest, Yeosang took the lube from Hongjoong's hand and poured some onto his fingers. Hongjoong in turn tilted Y/N's chin, and made her look at him.

"You're lucky Yeosang is nice kitten. If it were up to me, I'd make you wait around and beg like the whiny bitch you are."

Y/N poked her bottom lip out, making puppy eyes at Hongjoong so he wouldn't follow through on it. Wanting to assure her, Yeosang pressed kisses on her shoulder.

"Don't listen to him princess."

Yeosang slipped two of his lubed fingers into her tight hole, reading her body signals and slowly prepping her. Sensing her apprehension, Yeosang looked over at Hongjoong.

"Should we maybe try something else?"

But Y/N didn't want to deter them.

"No! Please! Fuck both my holes."

Yeosang instantly got hard once again at her words. When Y/N pressed herself back onto his length, he got the hint that she wanted them to stop stalling. As Yeosang finished lubing her up, Hongjoong lined himself up at her entrance, not needing to prep her pussy hole as she was practically soaked to the core, making it easy for him to slide inside her. Even after all the times he had entered her in the past months, she could still not get over the feeling of his pierced dick stretching out her walls. Before she could fully get adjusted to him, Yeosang was already sliding into her other tight hole, causing a pained shiver to run down her spine. Hongjoong rapidly kissed her to distract her from the uncomfortable feeling. Yeosang as well slid his hands up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples softly as he fully inserted his length inside her, fighting the urge to move until she adjusted to his size.

After a few minutes, she pulled away from Hongjoong's kiss and nodded at him.

"You good?" He asked one last time.

"I'm good." Turning her head back so she could look at Yeosang, she added: "Go ahead."

Giving each other an enthusiastic look, both men began moving inside of her. Y/N had never felt so full, each time one of them slipped out of her, the other was already slipping back in, never allowing her to get a moment's rest from the overwhelming feeling they were giving her.

"You're enjoying this aren't you kitten? I can feel you clenching all around me and I bet that other hole of yours is squeezing Yeosang as well."

With no warning, Hongjoong slipped his hand back and struck her ass twice, causing her to yelp.

"Aren't you, you whore?"

As soon as he finished his words, Yeosang stepped in to caress her slapped skin.

"It's ok princess, it's just means we're fucking you right like you're supposed to be."

Y/N loved the polar opposites both of them were giving her. Hongjoong's degradation being softened by Yeosang's praise and care was something she didn't know she needed until she felt a familiar coil build up in her lower stomach.

"She's close..... can you tell Yeosang? With the way she's struggling to breathe and her walls tightening, she's about to burst all over." Hongjoong noted.

Reaching over to fumble with her clit, Yeosang whispered in a raspy voice:

"Cum for us baby girl. Just let it out."

Feeling the coil snap inside, she cried out their names as they slowed down their movements, letting her come down from her high and become relaxed. She was completely unaware of the slick smiles and hints they exchanged between themselves. Taking advantage of her unfocused state, Hongjoong gripped her hips while Yeosang wrapped his hand around her neck, both jolting they began pounding into her at an even fiercer speed than before, loud squealching sounds echoing through the room as incoherent babbling came from Y/N's mouth, tears dripping down her cheeks from their overstimulation.

"Joong...Sang..-"

Hongjoong slapped her ass once again.

"Wrong name stupid, stupid kitten."

Any word she even thought of spitting out was choked out by Yeosang's grip tightened around her throat.

"It's Master and Sir to you little pet."

"S-sorry......m-master...s-sir-"

With tremendous effort, she managed to get out those 3 words in between her whimpered screams that were probably being heard by the neighbors, not to mention the creaking of the bed underneath them. Being overstimulated past her limit, it didn't take long for Y/N to become undone once more, this time even more violently than the previous one. If the boys hadn't been holding her up, she would have collapsed onto the bed. But their strong arms, both tha tattooed ones and the non-tattooed held her up as both boys chased their own release. Through gritted teeth, they let out choked moans, making sure to fill her up to the brim as they coated her walls with their sticky cum. Once they garnered enough strength and their headspace, they pulled out of her, a trail of slick cascading down her thighs. Y/N winced at the sudden void that action left in her, her eyes focused on the ceiling as her mind just stayed blank from all the events that just happened. Yeosang was the first one to get up.

"I'll go run a bath."

Understanding what he was doing, Hongjoong leaned down and brushed some of the hair sticking to his girlfriend's forehead off her face. Kissing the spot gently, his tone turned more soft and warm than what it had been minutes ago.

"It's ok, you did so well my love. We'll run you a nice bath and then tuck you into bed so you can rest ok?"

Her mind barely processed what he said, she simply nodded and allowed herself to be carried by Hongjoong into the bathroom. Yeosang was in the process of making sure the water temperature was perfect and had already added scented bubble bath mix in there to help her relax more.

"You certainly do go the extra mile." Hongjoong pointed out.

Yeosang shrugged.

"Just cause she's not mine doesn't mean I'm not going to take care of her after I practically helped you fuck her brains out."

Both Y/N and Yeosang thought they were too worn out and dumb to fully comprehend the next words Hongjoong spoke.

"As far as I'm concerned, she's also yours after tonight."

Y/N craned her neck to look at Yeosang's reaction, who sat there incredulous.

"I mean, if you don't want to I understand..."

Hongjoong looked over at his lover, knowing fully well she would not mind adding their savage yet charismatic accomplice into their relationship. After Y/N gave him a reassuring smile, Yeosang stood up and took her away from Hongjoong's embrace.

"Guess you're mine now too princess."

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

[mommy-imagines]

Pretty Boy - part. 7

Content: Mommy Kink. Sugar Mommy. MILF. Fluff. Headspace. Jealous Baby Atsumu. Cute Bokuto. Toulouse the Jackal. Ophelia the Cat.

Words: 1.735

A/n.: I got this ask and couldn't stop myself, but this turned out longer than I had planned:

"So, I dunno why this popped into my head, but if Bokuto, Hinata, or Sakusa comes over to visit 'tsumu and his mommy gives them even a lick of attention (like praising something they did during a game or practice cause you know she watches because she supportive), poor baby gets a little jealous cause that's his mommy, not there's. Might even be a little pouty towards them cause only mommy's suppose to say nice things about him. Poor baby don't want to share her attention."

“Bokuto!” Atsumu heard Mommy’s voice from the entrance of the main living room and turned to look at her, confused as to why would his Mommy greet someone else before him; he saw her walking closer to where he was sitting with Bokuto and offered her a small smile, which she returned quickly before setting her attention back on his friend - Atsumu felt a small frown begin to form, “You were wonderful last week! Congratulations!”

Atsumu frowned harder, why was Mommy praising someone else?

“Thank you, ma’am,” Bokuto replied; he was still fairly nervous to be in the presence of Atsumu’s girlfriend - he found her to be terrifying, for lack of a better word. She was fiercely protective of Atsumu and on more than one occasion did not hesitate in handing severe consequences to someone who she thought had made Atsumu even the slightest bit uncomfortable. The day that she fired the team’s former PR because she had tried to force Atsumu into doing an interview is still fresh on everyone’s mind. Bokuto found that the best approach was to always be as polite as possible in her presence.

It was not something that had been discussed openly amongst the Black Jackals’ players, but still was whispered when they were certain that Atsumu was not nearby - one did not cross Atsumu’s girlfriend. They all liked her, from a distance. Truth was, they all admired her greatly. The woman had an empire at her feet, which she built all on her own from the ground up, and decided that she wanted to share it with Atsumu. Omi had even made a passing joke, even if they all knew that he was being serious, he said that it reminded him of that part of the Joker’s movie, only in Tokyo, Omi had said “Queen and King of Tokyo; God help anyone who disrespect the King.” Bokuto couldn’t find it in himself to laugh, it was much too close to the truth.

They all saw the expensive gifts and amazing trips; Atsumu’s Instagram was filled with pictures of the two of them. Hugging or just sitting side by side. Something that had come as a surprise to all of them was Atsumu’s behavior: Atsumu had always been someone with a big personality. He was always all over the place and those who truly knew him were aware that most of it was just a front. The thing is, no one knew what was behind that façade until Atsumu had met his girlfriend.

There wasn’t a single player on the team who had not been shocked by Atsumu’s new approach to life. He was like a completely different person at the same time in which it was obvious that he was just, finally, being himself; Atsumu was all soft edges now. He blushed so easily - it was adorable, if Bokuto was being honest. If anyone even mentioned her name, Atsumu would instantly smile - a soft smile, bashful even. No matter what was the subject that was being discussed, her name always came up in conversation and always in the form of Atsumu singing her praises.

They had been sitting down for maybe twenty minutes when it happened. Honestly, Atsumu knew that he was not feeling all that great; he woke up needy and clingy and all that he wanted the most was to spend the day wrapped around Mommy - he wanted to feel Mommy’s soft hands on him, he wanted to hear her cooing at him and see her tender smile while he nursed. And now he couldn’t do any of that! Because Bokuto was stealing his Mommy away from him!

Atsumu bit his lower lip in concentration and felt his eyes prickling with tears when Mommy didn’t immediately freed it from the abuse and replaced it with his paci like she always did. He looked up; of course that she didn’t, he thought. Mommy was much too busy talking to Bokuto! Atsumu stood up as quietly as he could, because even if Mommy didn’t want him anymore he still remembered his manners and maybe if he was really polite Mommy would let him stay!!

He walked out of the main living room and to Mommy's study, sitting down on a leather couch and smiling when Ophelia came up to him; it started with a small sniffle, then a second one and then Atsumu was crying.

Honestly, she should have seen it coming. Atsumu was not used to sharing her attention, no matter how small. She saw how his broad shoulders were tensing up before he left; she sighed deeply, “Bokuto, will you excuse me for a moment?” She asked, only for the sake of it.

Bokuto frowned in alarm when they heard a sob coming from down the hall, “Is he okay? Do you want me to go?” He asked and she shook her head.

“No, it’s fine; We’ll be just a moment.” And then she was walking out of the room and making her way through the maze of hallways until she reached her baby.

She frowned softly at seeing her baby in such a state of distress, her heart breaking as she heard him talking to Ophelia, “An- and then, ‘Phelia, Mommy didn’t even look at me! She doesn't want me no more! She's going to send me away!” He sobbed, speech slurred, bordering on childish and she knew that he had fallen into his headspace.

“Baby,” She called gently, walking forward and sitting on the couch beside him. She pulled him close, cradled him against her chest even if he tried to bat her away, “Baby, ssh; Mommy’s right here, you’re okay.”

Atsumu shook his head vehemently, she was worried that he would hurt himself, “No, Mommy; Mommy doesn’t want me no more!” He cried and she pressed a long kiss to the top of his styled hair.

“Now, that’s not true, baby;” She said. Felt unbelievably judged when she picked up on Ophelia’s dirty look at her. She cooed at him, voice soft, “Baby, did you get jealous of Mommy talking to Bokuto?” Atsumu froze at her words but in the end gave a reluctant little nod, she smiled down at him, “You have no reason to be jealous, sweetie; Mommy could never love anyone else; you’re Mommy’s little boy, aren’t you?”

Atsumu sniffed a bit but caught Mommy’s expectant gaze down at him, “Yes;” He said, voice very small and shy. She kissed the tip of his nose and he giggled, she wiped his tears, “Mommy’s little boy;” He whispered.

“Uhm, excuse me?” They heard from the doorway of her study and she raised her head to look at the source of the voice; she found Bokuto staring at them with wide eyes, “Am I interrupting?” His voice was nervous and she shook her head no.

“It’s alright; come on in.” She invited, her hand cupping the back of Atsumu’s head and cradling him close to her neck, she smiled down at him when she felt him mouthing at her collarbones, “He was just feeling a little overwhelmed; weren’t you, baby?” She asked him softly and Atsumu offered nothing more than a tiny nod.

“Oh,” Bokuto nodded, he chewed on his lower lip for a moment before raising his left hand, “I’ve found this, I thought that it could help, maybe?”

Mommy’s eyes sparkled and she pressed a kiss to Atsumu’s temple, “Look baby,” she said, “Bokuto found your friend!”

Atsumu raised his head slowly and then his eyes zeroed on the stuffed toy, “Toulouse, Mommy?” He said, voice childish and eyes round and wet.

Bokuto didn’t look all that surprised at hearing the words or Atsumu’s tone of voice, he looked as if things were finally clicking into place in his head, “That’s right, baby!” She made sure to sound excited, “Why don’t you say thank you?”

Atsumu eyed Bokuto nervously for a moment, his cheeks flaming bright red, but then Bokuto was offering him a gentle smile, eyes bright, “Here you go, buddy;” He said and the term didn’t go unnoticed by Mommy - she threw Bokuto a grateful look.

“Thanks, Bokkun,” He said, his voice oh, so shy. Bokuto nodded and stepped forward, handing him the toy.

“His name is Toulouse, you said?” Bokuto asked and Atsumu hid his face on Mommy’s neck, his hazel eyes just peeking up at his friend, “Like the Aristocats?”

Atsumu’s eyes brightened, “Yes!” He exclaimed, suddenly excited, “Do you like them too?”

Bokuto laughed softly, surprised, “I do! It was my favorite movie! Is it yours as well?”

Atsumu shook his head very seriously, “Nu-uh.” He denied, “I like Winnie the Pooh better!”

Bokuto nodded at him, as if the whole interaction was nothing out of the ordinary and Mommy observed them with a small smile, “Let me guess, your favorite character is Winnie the Pooh?” Atsumu nodded slowly, eyes narrowed.

“How did you know, Bokkun?”

Bokuto smiled indulgently, “I know all about your sweet tooth, ‘Tsumu; besides, Winnie the Pooh is cute, just like you!”

Atsumu giggled in response, cheeks warming once again, then he turned shy, “Would you like to watch it with me?”

Mommy watched carefully, maybe this would turn out to be too much, but then Bokuto was extending his hand in invitation, “Only if you let me pretend to be Tigger!”

Atsumu’s eyes turned mischievous, “I thought that you would be Owl;” he giggled and Bokuto’s eyes widened before he laughed.

“Owl is very old! Are you calling me old?” Atsumu shook his head, laughed in delight.

He turned back to Mommy, “Mommy, can we watch the movie now?” He asked, voice tentative.

She smiled at him and kissed his forehead, “Absolutely, baby; just come and get me if you need me, alright?” Atsumu nodded at her and then stood up, linking his fingers with Bokuto’s and guiding him out of the room.

She could hear his happy voice fading down the hallway, only being interrupted by an annoyed little meow - she sighed and scratched behind Ophelia’s ears, “I know, kitty - I’m sorry for upsetting your baby;” Ophelia gave her a pleased little purr, “Our baby made a friend, huh?” Ophelia meowed again, circled around her lap and laid down to sleep.

Mommy resigned herself to the situation and picked up a book that had been lying nearby - she would talk to Bokuto later, for now her baby was happy.

[the-obiwan-for-me]

Clan of Two

I had every intention of participating in Bo-Katan Week 2021 for the whole week. But real life is tough, and so is my main fic right now, and it just didn’t happen. But I got struck by inspiration when I realized last night what the prompt for today is. So, here’s my single contribution for Bo-Katan Week!

She found the boy in the tiny galley of the stolen gunship, nursing a mug of weak looking tea. The poor kid's face was swollen and angry looking. She wouldn't be surprised if his orbital bone was fractured. She knew from experience that that brute of a traitor, Gar Saxon, packed a punch.

Physically, he looked rough. But he was a Kryze, and he wore his emotions loudly, just like she did. Just like Satine. And he looked shell shocked and angry and drowning in grief, just like she felt.

She slid into the bench across from him and took a long pull off a bottle of tihaar she'd found stashed away. She passed it to him. He looked at it incredulously for a moment, then took his own swig, surprising her when he didn't wince like she expected. Perhaps the kid was tougher than she thought.

"How's your head?" she asked.

He picked at the label on the bottle for several heartbeats. "She was my mother, you know."

Bo-Katan swallowed the stone that seemed lodged in her throat, then nodded. "I know that."

He looked at her, dumbstruck, his unswollen eye blazing the same fierce crystalline blue as his mother's. He took another swig from the bottle, handed it back. "How did you know?"

Bo-Katan snorted a humorless laugh. "First of all, bleaching your hair only makes you look more like your mother." He glanced away, sheepish. "But mostly, it doesn't take much to spot a Kryze. And Satine is-" a sob she had not anticipated caught in her chest- "was my only sibling. You're no foundling."

He studied her for a while, working something through in his head. She sat quietly, giving him the room he needed to process. Then he finally sighed, squaring his broad shoulders. "Why didn't you try to kill me when you were with Death Watch, if it's that easy to tell?"

Bo-Katan sighed herself. "I wouldn't allow it."

He gave her another astonished look. It was becoming a habit. "You had that much power?" he scoffed. 

She shrugged. "I was second in command. But, no, it wasn't like that." She picked at the label herself, recalling memories, some still too fresh to even feel like memories. She drowned them with a heavy drink of tihaar, then handed it to him. "Vizsla was tenacious, but he also could have the attention span of a Corellian grass squirrel. You would come up, and I would distract him." 

He drank from the bottle and stared at her, his gaze hard. "Couldn't you have done that for my mother? Your sister?"

"Listen, kid, I never intended for that to happen!" she shouted, jumping to her feet to pace, gesturing wildly back in the imagined direction of Mandalore. "None of this was supposed to happen! I didn't even want to deal with those monsters! I tried to talk Pre out of it, especially once I knew that one had such a thing for Kenobi." The sob worked itself loose from her chest and she fought back the hot tears that wanted to follow it. The heat of her anger sparked the fire of her grief. "None of this was supposed to happen. I tried, Korkie. I tried." She stopped, staring down at her boots, wondering absently whose blood splattered them. "At least I got you out." 

"I know." It was said softly, almost a whisper. She raised her gaze to meet his. "I….I just know."

"How do you know? Why should you trust me?"

"I mean, you did get me, and my friends, out. And I saw what you tried to do for others in the aftermath. You do care about Mandalore." He stood and moved toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder. He was tall, and broad chested, and in many ways reminded her of her father. But in so many ways, he was so completely, uniquely different. "And Mum trusted you immediately. She forgave you, instantly. I don't know much. She didn't talk about you except about when you two were small. I don't know what happened, but whatever it was, it wasn't so bad that she couldn't forgive you." He squeezed her shoulder, let his arm drop. "So, I should probably try to do the same. I'm going to try, ok, Auntie?"

She reached up and tenderly brushed a hand along his cheek. She was so rarely tender. She had so rarely been shown tenderness. But she could be gentle for him. He was all she had left, now, and he was too much like his mother to be treated like every other ruthless brute that had shaped her. "This is how I know you're her child, ad'ika. You could dye your hair purple and grow a beard and cover your face with tattoos. But that, right there, is how I know."

He smiled sadly, his eyes shiny with the threat of tears. He took her hand from his face and squeezed it. "Vor entye, ba'vodu."

She squeezed back before letting his hand go. "No debts here, Korkie. I am in your debt." 

He turned, rubbing his chin as he made his way back to the table, deep in thought. "What do we do now?" He drank from the bottle and handed it to her as she passed him, moving around the small space until she found a medkit.

"First, you let me patch up that face of yours," she said, sitting next to him before taking her own drink. "Then, if you're willing, we fight for our home. We fight for your mother's legacy."

He nodded once as she gently began to clean the cuts and scrapes along his face. "I am willing." He hissed in pain as she prodded along his orbital bone. It was definitely fractured. "But I don't know if I want to fight like you."

She picked up the bacta spray and gave it a shake. "Fair enough."

"And after that?"

"Well, we're family. We'll take care of each other."

He huffed out a breath. "You had a chance to be my family for eighteen years." He said it with a sharpness and bitterness she hadn't expected, sounding more like a petulant, angry teenager. He was an angry teenager, she reminded herself. Beyond that, even. The world as he knew it has been destroyed. Burned to the ground, in large part due to actions she had taken, or, at the very least, been able to prevent.

She had once been a teenager whose world had been burned to the ground, too.

So, she decided to try and take a page from her sister’s book. She forgave his sharp words.

She sighed, cupping his cheek softly, turning his face to hers. “I am beginning to regret that I didn’t take my chance more and more each day,” she said quietly. “We’re a clan of two, now, and we have to take care of each other. I won’t lose you, too. I plan on keeping you safe.” She rummaged through the medkit, pulling out the skin adhesive. “Now sit still while I glue this shut.”

He looked apologetic, took a sip of tihaar, and sat quietly, letting her work.

They sat like that for a while, Bo-Katan, working gently to glue shut a cut across Korkie’s temple. Korkie hummed a tune that Bo-Katan recognized as a lullaby her father sang to her and Satine when they were small. She mused to herself that she and Korkie would have nearly matching scars as she worked.

He suddenly jolted, looking up to meet her eyes. “If you knew she was my mum, can you tell me who my father is?”

Bo-Katan fought the urge to grimace, then gave herself a moment to compose herself, plan out the right thing to say. “Your mother and I weren’t really speaking when she would have been pregnant with you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not at all. 

But it also wasn’t the absolute whole truth, either.

She knew who the father was. Or, at least, she had strong suspicion. She didn’t need to be a mathematician to realize Satine had to have become pregnant during her year with the two Jedi. One of which had the same nose, the same strong jaw, the same auburn hair that was just beginning to show in the roots of Korkie’s bleached hair. It was an easy enough guess. She was surprised he hadn’t guessed it already, really.

But, for now, she’d keep it herself. This boy didn’t need to know that the man who had come to save his mother, but, instead, caused her death, was his father. One day, maybe. Maybe when he wasn’t so fragile. When the world didn’t feel so utterly destroyed for the both of them.

He seemed to accept her answer. He nodded once, closed his eyes, and settled back into letting her repair the gash on his temple, humming softly to himself.

There was very little she could do to make amends for all the horror she had allowed to be wrought on their home. But she could do two things: she could fight to get it back, and she absolutely would protect her sister's son until her very last breath.

[moldisgoodforyou]

the screenplay

hello i am splitting these up tried to put them together but wasn't working

one scene wonder !!

wordcount: 2k short n sweet

________

Sophie had been begging for months now to see the project Rafe had been working on for one of his classes, especially with how often he added to it. He was constantly jotting down notes in his phone when he thought of something to add - at dinner, when they were hanging out, or the second he’d wake up. He’d always shift to the side whenever she tried to peer over and see the screen, nudging her aside.

All she knew was that it was for his screenwriting class in his minor that he took in the spring, and she swore she’d never seen him so invested in school before. He kept editing it after the class finished, working on it a little throughout the summer, but finished it before he went out to see Sophie in Spain.

When they were back to school in mid-August, she’d mainly forgotten about it - until the end of the month, when he strolled into her room and dropped a bound stack of papers on her desk.

She glanced up from her planner, confused. “Hello to you too, Rafe Cameron. Did I know you were coming over?”

“No, I invited myself. It’s done.”

“It?” She picked up the papers and read the first page. It read “UNTITLED,” BY RAFE CAMERON. Once she realized, she lit up, grinning at him. “Is this what I think it is?”

He flopped onto her bed and locked his fingers behind his head, glancing over with a grin. “Dunno, what do you think it is?”

“Your screenplay? Can I read it?”

“Yeah. Go ahead. It’s only twenty minutes or so, just a short film, so don’t expect too much, but.” He shrugged. “You can read it.”

She beamed and moved to the bed to read, facing the opposite of him. As she read, he was buzzing with nervous anticipation, trying to look over when she laughed or grinned at the page, or when she bit her lip - she’d just nudge him away to finish it. When she finished, setting the papers down, she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Do you like it? Is it okay?” He asked eagerly.

Sophie beamed, nodding slowly. “It’s familiar.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed at being caught. “Is it?”

“I mean -” She laughed, running her finger over the main girl’s name, Sloane. “If you were trying to be more subtle, you probably wouldn’t have used my middle name here. Where’d the guy’s name come from?” She cocked her head curiously, hoping to make him blush yet again.

“Uh.” He scratched his head, giving her a sheepish smile. “My middle name’s Asher, actually.”

A grin spread across her face, slowly. “You told me you had no middle name.”

“No, you asked if I had a middle name, and I said no. I have two. Asher and Clifford. Clifford’s my mom’s maiden name.” He corrected, fishing out his driver’s license and handing it to her, with Rafe A. C. Cameron on it.

She glanced it over, then glanced back at him with a teasing smirk. “Rafe Asher Clifford Cameron. That is the most pretentious name I’ve ever heard -”

“Hey!” He nudged her shoulder. “Watch it, that’s your boyfriend you’re talking to.”

“My boyfriend, who wrote our love story into a screenplay.” She beamed as he blushed even harder. His character had confessed his crush on the girl to his friends much sooner than she began to give way, something she’d always suspected for a while, but never confronted him about it.

He tapped the bound pages again. “Did you make it to the end? You missed my favorite part.”

“Yeah, I finished reading…” She furrowed her brow and flipped back through to what she thought was the end, then one page further. There was a dedication inscribed to her in the middle of the page: “inspired by a true story. for my favorite.” She bit her bottom lip hard, tearing up a little.

“Oh. Rafe.”

“Is that okay?” He took the screenplay out of her hands, gently setting it aside, and rolled on top of her to kiss her, slow. “I know it’s kind of cheesy, and you don’t really do cheesy. But I figured you played a part in this just as much as I did, so I wanted to give you some credit.”

“It’s perfect.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair, smiling as she kissed him back. “My sweet boy.”

“Keep your voice down, you’ll ruin my rep.” He joked, laughing when she scowled and bit his lip gently in retaliation. “Hey! Hey, play nice.”

“Did you get an A?” She asked, kissing him again with a little more heat behind it. “Can I keep it?”

“Not sure yet. Yeah, I bound that copy for you, it’s all yours.”

“It’s really good, Rafe. I’m serious. I know I don’t know about movies like you do, but the writing, the directions - I’m really impressed.” She complimented, loving the way he looked away out of embarrassment and blushed red. “You only started this in April or something, right?”

“Uh...yeah.” He lied, rolling off of her to look up at the ceiling when she narrowed her eyes to catch him. “Okay, fine. Um, you know that navy journal I carry around? I’ve been writing notes in there.”

“But I’ve seen you with that since last December.” She furrowed her brow, confused. “We didn’t say I love you for months after that.”

He shrugged, casting her a grin as she climbed onto him and pressed her head to his chest, snuggling close. He wrapped his arms tight around her, tracing patterns on her back lightly. “When you know, you know, I guess.”

“You sap.” She accused, poking her finger against her chest. “My character’s a bitch for the whole first quarter of the screenplay, I can’t believe you wrote that in.”

He laughed, tugging gently on the ends of her hair. “Asher argues right back, I guess it’s how you look at it. The character growth is important, though, they can’t just fall in love like that without conflict. Rule number one of storytelling.”

“Are you gonna produce it?”

“The screenplay? Nah. Well, I don’t know, my professor picks two out of the ten and then we produce them in the spring semester. He did, um, encourage me to enter it in some contest for students, so I submitted it recently, but yeah. Doubt he’ll pick it though.” He dismissed himself easily.

“Hey.” She flicked his chest. “Be more confident. I want someone really hot to play me. Like Megan Fox-caliber.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, okay. I’m sure she’s in the film department’s tiny budget.”

“You have money.” She pointed out, smirking, and leaned up to kiss him.

“Not hire-Megan-Fox money. Besides, you’re hotter.” He met her lips first, shifting so his leg fell in between hers.

“We both know that’s not true, baby.” She raised her eyebrows, skeptical.

“It is true. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He kissed her again, hard, smiling against her lips. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. 10/10, would bang.”

“Thanks for the Yelp review.” She giggled and rolled her eyes simultaneously. “For the record, I always thought you were hot, even if you were arrogant and annoying when we were growing up.”

“I’m glad we waited, both of us.” He threaded his fingers through hers and kissed the tip of her nose. “If we had just one hate fuck and then you got over me I think I’d be so sad.”

“You wouldn’t get over me?”

“I haven’t been over you since junior year of high school, sweetheart.” He pointed out, making her blush bright red.

“What happened with Brooklyn then?” She asked point-blank, feeling bold.

He scowled, pressing his hips against hers. “Do we have to talk about her? Because I have other ideas for topics of conversation. Literally anything else.”

“We don’t have to, no. I’m just curious.”

“I dunno. Good timing, I guess. It kind of started out of convenience, knowing both our families would get along, then turned into a little more.” He shrugged, teasing his thumbs over her hip bones and along the hem of her shirt. “Longest mistake of my life.”

“Hey. You didn’t know she was going to end up that way.” Sophie frowned, then her frown gave way to a smug smirk. “It’s fine, I was sleeping around back then anyways -”

“You’ve slept with one other person, Sophie -” He started with an exasperated sigh, laughing when her jaw dropped in indignation. “Technically, your body count is just two.”

“So’s yours!” She retorted, sitting up on top of him and crossing her arms.

“No. Still four.” He corrected. “And I’d like both of ours to stay that way.”

“So that’s a no to a threesome?” She teased, punctuating her question with a roll of her hips.

“If you think I’m letting another person touch you like I get to, you’re delusional.” He scowled, gripping her hips a little tighter to keep her firmly in place. “I don’t even like other guys looking at you at the bar.”

“You’re too jealous.” She chastised with a flip of her hair. “People are gonna look at me. I’m hot. Bangable, in your words.”

“First off, I was joking, and I’m pretty sure I did not say bangable -”

“You absolutely did! Might as well have called me a slut -”

He raised his eyebrows at her teasing tone, unamused. “Why, do you want that? ‘Cause if you do you can just ask.”

“No.” She pouted, moving off of him.

“Where are you going?” He reached out for her, tugging at the hem of her shirt. “C’mere, I want to snuggle.”

She smiled, endeared by the 6’3” boy in her bed asking to cuddle. “Okay. Just that though, we have that dinner reservation soon, the one downtown.”

He grinned when she crawled back into bed. She looped her arm around his waist, spooning him, and he sighed contentedly. “I’m so excited for those fancy drinks.”

“We can make fancy drinks at home, y’know. Just buy the alcohol and we can try it.” She nudged her nose against his neck, making him flinch and wiggle away for a moment.

“Not the same. $18 cocktails in the fancy glasses just hit different.” He flipped over so he was face to face with her and rested his arm over her waist, scratching little circles on her back.

“Mm.” She closed her eyes but gave him a nod. “Are you gonna order a dumb whiskey drink again then drink half my fruity drink?”

“You like whiskey.” He protested. “We were sharing.”

“Free alcohol is free alcohol.” She replied, her voice taking on a sleepy tone. “How fancy do I have to be for this place?”

“You can just throw on a dress.” He continued to scratch her back, loving her little hums of contentment. “We can take a nap before we go. Twenty minutes. You can do eyeliner and lipstick and whatever in the car.”

“Ideal.” She murmured. “Rafe?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I really love that screenplay. You’re very talented. I mean it.” She squinted one eye open just so she could see his blush and shy smile.

“Yeah, well. I had good inspiration. Thank you, Soph, that means a lot.” He reached out and stroked his thumb over her cheek as he reminded himself how lucky he was to be with her.

“Always my favorite.” She whispered, leaning forward to peck his lips and cuddle closer into him. “I’m gonna sleep.”

“I love you too.” He murmured back. “Sweet dreams.”

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[sylvies-chen]

Chenford + #11 “Wow, you look… amazing.”

Thank you!!!

The LAPD throws a charity event for the first time in forever.

It's for a good cause, Lucy supposes. But there are fountains there and expensive champagne and more glass chandeliers than she can count, and she thinks the LAPD might have their priorities a little backward, spending more money than will actually be donated. Whatever. These rich snobs are donating to a good charity at the end of the night. That's all that matters.

What also matters, admittedly, is that she gets to wear a dress. Call her vain, or girly, or too self-obsessed, but Lucy's been spending the last six months doing UC operations and minor drug busts. That whole ordeal involves more sweatpants and messy buns than she cares to admit, so going to this function with her colleagues is like a dream come true. She picks her favourite black satin slip dress, with a small slit to let her leg breathe at the bottom, and her favourite pearl earrings. Nova may be a slob but Lucy Chen is a sucker for nice dresses. Especially if it's for a good cause.

If someone just happens to take a good look at her and drool, that's an added bonus.

They're about an hour into this charity event, Lucy chatting with Jackson and Nolan in between the shallow speeches of various high-ups in the LAPD, when she sees Tim Bradford walking in from across the room.

He's an hour late.

He looks grumpy as hell.

She doesn't even think he made a donation yet.

But damn. If he doesn't look good in a tux.

Lucy feels herself being drawn towards him before she can even stop herself. Neither Jackson nor Nolan seem to notice her drift from the conversation so she keeps walking towards Tim. His eyes meet hers when she's halfway there and soon trail all the way down her body, absorbing the full glamour of the outfit before looking back up to her eyes with a surprised gaze.

"Hi," he blurts, as if shocked that she's here.

"Hey, you finally made it." Lucy feels a blush creep onto her cheeks and fights the urge she gets to try and swat it or slap it away.

What is it with Tim Bradford and making her a complete mess?

"Wow, you look... amazing," he awes, scratching at the back of his neck.

The blush on her cheeks intensifies instantly. "Thank you," she offers shyly.

For whatever reason, whether it be the dress she's wearing or the way he's ogling her like she's the only thing worth a damn in the room, she feels confident. So, before she can talk herself out of it, she smooths out a tiny wrinkle on his suit and pats his chest gently, pinching the bowtie momentarily. Her hand lingers on second too long, but she pulls away quickly when she realizes it. "You clean up pretty nice yourself. I didn't know you had such nice suits, Officer Bradford."

"I just don't get many occasions to wear them, that's all. Or ones I want to be at, at least," he adds under his breath.

"Is that why you showed up an hour late to this thing?"

"Maybe," he replies cryptically.

"What's your grudge against this event anyway? They do it every year, and it's for charity. Shouldn't you be used to it by now? Isn't this a good thing?"

"That's cute," Tim scoffs amusedly. "No, charity is the last thing these events are about. First, it's good PR for the LAPD. Then, it's blatant ass-kissing and networking for cops who want to climb the chain. Then you have your regular rich wives wanting their husbands to take them out more often, the lonely guys like Smitty who only come to get out of the house. Then maybe, maybe, it's charity."

"Oh come on," she chuckles. "You're too cynical sometimes, you know that? This is a good cause, it's good people helping good people!"

"Did they even tell you what the charity is?"

"I--" she bites her tongue, thinking about it for a moment before scrunching her nose in embarrassment. "No, they didn't actually."

"It's for animals. They're donating the money to an animal hospital, one that just so happens to host the main rehabilitation clinic for injured police dogs and horses."

"Huh," she replies, slightly bashful.

"What was that about me being cynical again?" Tim throws her a confident smirk and Lucy finds it more than a little attractive, even through her slight frustration.

"Oh shut it," Lucy giggles, rolling her eyes. "You get cocky when you're right about something."

"I must be cocky a lot then," he offers, again with that damn smirk. She shouldn't find it as hot as she does. He's her former T.O. and Lucy's pretty sure Jackson doesn't think these things about Angela. No, she's definitely straying beyond professional and it makes her brain turn to exhausted mush. But frankly, they've been pushing that line for months now.

She doesn't know when the flirting started, or when it became more than professional, but something's been going on between them for some time. So yeah. She's alright admitting to herself that she finds him attractive. They haven't acted on it which means it's still completely fine. She's in no trouble yet, right?

"Well you certainly didn't have that cocky swagger when you walked in and saw me in this dress," she points out before she can think about how stupid it must sounds. Especially to Tim who, for all she knows, harbours no feelings whatsoever. It's a bold statement for her, to say the least.

"I..." he swallows hard, his eyes never leaving hers but still pooling up with something intense and unwavering and... complicated.

Fuck. Did Lucy just make a total ass of herself? Did she just put them in an awkward position?

"I didn't, did I?" He finally speaks, looking at her bashfully. "I'll admit, I was a little... surprised by it, that's all."

Her face lights up, a cocky smile of her own forming now. It's mixed with the slightest amount of amusement and is crooked because yes. Lucy's had a few too many glasses of the champagne . She's a little carefree tonight. Sue her.

"Admit it," she chuckles, pointing an amused finger at him. "Just say it, man: I look hot!"

"I already said you look amazing, I think we've covered that," he backtracks with a blush of his own crawling onto his cheeks.

"No way," Lucy protests with a laugh. "Amazing is different than hot. Everyone can call a good hamburger amazing or-- or a donation to charity amazing, but no one calls it hot. Hot is different."

He stares at her, bewildered. "You've had too much of that champagne, haven't you?"

"A little bit, yeah," she admits with a snort.

"Fine," Tim decides after a beat of silence.

Lucy's confused for a second. She doesn't quite know what his grumbled and begrudging "fine" means but suddenly, Tim's stepping in, leaning close to her until his lips brush against the hair near her ear. It sends a shiver down the back of her neck.

"You look... very hot in that dress," he admits, his voice raspy and low in a way that drives Lucy crazy. And shit, if it isn't the most confusingly sexy thing that's happened to her in a while.

Tim backs up after that, flashes her a bashful smile, and walks away to talk to Grey. Lucy stands there in place, frozen by every muscles of hers that feels like it's on fire, and thinks maybe she's in a hell of a lot more trouble than she realized.

[troubatrain]

together by this christmas tree - p.l. dubois

a/n: happy december, so because The Maine’s Ho Ho Hopefully is a god tier Christmas song and I forgot how to write anything else heres like 5 words of just fluff. big shoutout to @prettyboybarzal​ for letting me just dump this fic on her for a few days so i could fuck around with the plot you are a queen!!

Pierre was in Los Angeles.

At any other time, he’d be pretty happy. The long West Coast road trip was one of Pierre’s favorites, he got to spend some time with his teammate’s, enjoy the warm weather, and play a few games that would hopefully end in a win. This time, however, he was sulking in his hotel room because he wished he was in Columbus. It was the first day of December, and Pierre knew that meant one thing - You were undoubtedly getting ready for the holiday season in whatever ways you knew how.

You stumbled into Pierre’s life by accident - literally. When Phillip was just a puppy, Pierre had taken him on a run. The French Bulldog pulled him with all his strength, causing you, who’d been looking at your phone to trip right over his leash. You assured Pierre it was fine, but while you were explaining to him that you had dogs growing up and sometimes shit happens your elbow had been bleeding before you could finish your sentence. Pierre offered to help you out, given his own apartment was barely a block away, and you’d been friends ever since. Friends. Just friends.

“Just tell her,” Tex says from the bed next to him, his road roommate having enough of watching Pierre sulk around their hotel room, “I’m tired of this.”

“Tired of what?” Pierre asks, his eyebrows raising. 

“This, the thinking about Y/N all the time,” Tex exasperates dramatically, he sighs, putting on his best impersonation of his teammate, “Y/N’s watching the dogs while I’m away. Y/N and I are trying that new French restaurant downtown. Y/N’s favorite holiday is Christmas and I’m not decorating with her. Dude, you’re in love with her, just tell her. I’m sure she feels the same way.”

“What if she doesn’t?” Pierre asks, finally admitting the real reason he’s yet to say anything. Pierre had been rejected a few times in his life, but he never let it get to him. That was because those people didn’t matter the way you did. You knew everything about him. You knew the way he took his coffee and the way he hated being woken up. You knew Pierre better than you knew yourself, and losing that was the first thing that’s ever really scared him.

“Well you won’t know if you don’t do something about it,” Tex sighs, frustrated with his two friends, “Or you’ve got to let her go.”

Tex walked out of their hotel room after he spoke, undoubtedly to get away from Pierre’s energy that was clouding the room. Pierre sighs, rolling over to the otherside of his bed and pulling up your contact. He did the math internally in his head for a moment, trying to figure out if you’d be asleep or not - smiling to himself when he realized you were probably still up. 

“Shouldn’t you be at some fancy LA restaurant?” You chirp, smiling on the other side of the phone when you pick up the Facetime call.  You were home, but Pierre could see two familiar figures snuggled together on her couch. You had become Pierre’s accidental dog sitter at the beginning of the season. He put finding one on the backburner, and when it came close to the start of the season, he was coming up empty. You offered three different times before Pierre finally came to his senses and said yes, not because he didn���t trust you, it was because if he had to watch his dogs love you as much as he does - he was never going to recover.

“Shouldn’t you be decorating for Christmas?” Pierre smirks, knowing exactly what the first day of December meant to his friend.

You loved Christmas, like in the type of way that made Pierre envious that anyone could be that happy from a holiday, and the first day of December was the day you went all out. A tree got put up in your apartment, a fake one because hauling a real one up to her place seemed like it would be too much, decorated elaborately in gold and white. You’d get dressed up in a set of Christmas pajamas, one’s that Pierre would scrunch his nose at but he secretly adored, and when he’d make fun of you for it - you’d just pout and call him a grinch.

“I thought I’d wait for you this year,” You mumble, hoping the lighting in your living room would hide the blush on your cheeks, “Speaking of Christmas…”

“I told you three times I don’t want anything,” Pierre reminds you, the argument sprung up twice a year, on Pierre’s birthday and the second the holiday season started. Pierre really had all he could want, his family and his friends were healthy, the team was doing well, and he could buy any material thing he wanted. His answer wasn’t a total lie, because he couldn’t think of anything he wanted besides you.

“You’re the worst,” You whine, throwing yourself back on the couch dramatically, Pierre watched Georgia spring up from next to you, the puppy dropping sloppy kisses all over your face. He thought about what Tex had rambled on about just before he called, that he had to just tell you, but you deserved it to be perfect. So he made a decision, he would tell you by Christmas and he’d spend every moment before that proving to you that he could be the man you deserved.

***

Pierre sighed, stepping back and looking at all of the pine needles that were scattered through his freshly washed BMW. He was going to have to get it cleaned, but the smile on your face would be worth it once he lugged that tree through your apartment building. It was part of his plan, one Tex had called stupid just three hours prior, but Pierre knew it wasn’t. You loved Christmas, and as much as you tried to never show it, you did always get a little bummed out that the tree in your apartment wasn’t real - something that not even the prettiest decorations could fix. So, Pierre decided he was going to fix it, and he was going to give you the best holiday you could ask for.

Pierre buzzed up to your apartment, the tree in his hands while he made his way up to your floor, holding up on his end of the promise he made to stop being a Grinch and help you decorate, “Special delivery.”

The snowman mug, undoubtedly filled with coffee and a tiny bit of sugar because that’s how you always drank it, slipping right out of your hands and onto the floor. The handle snapped off, but that seemed to take second place to the scene in front of you, “Is that-”

“A real tree? Uh yeah,” Pierre nods slowly, trying to not let the grin growing on his face show, “I know you say it’s not a big deal for your tree to be fake but-”

In all of the time you’d known Pierre, you were always his softer side. To the rest of the world, you almost seemed too sweet for the tattooed hockey player who wasn’t afraid to back down from a fight, but it wasn’t entirely true. Pierre had a softer side, one you’d seen shine through when he saw his mom or when a kid could stop him for an autograph, but they were never just random acts of kindness. You wrap your arms around his waist, taking a big sniff of the fresh pine scent that was sweeping through your apartment, “This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“This is the nicest thing I’ve ever done for someone,” Pierre jokes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “Where are we putting this thing?”

Once you had the tree in the stand, it was time to get to work. The real reason you waited for Pierre wasn’t because his lack of holiday cheer was a crime, even though it was, it was because then you could hang up decorations using a ladder. Pierre was keeping the smile on his face, not because he was happy that he had a Santa hat hanging from his head or that he was untangling string lights for you while he wrapped them around the tree, but because you would show him every ornament you had with some sort of story as to why you bought it.

“Do you have a favorite ornament?” You ask, snapping a picture of Pierre’s confused face while he untangled the lights. He looked silly, the hat that you placed on his head was hanging off, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth while he tried to untangle the lights. He looked up at you, and you could see him thinking for a moment before he answered you.

“I do actually, I had this little Canadians skate that I used to steal off the tree to play with as a kid,” Pierre finally settled on, smiling to himself when he could practically see himself at seven trying to steal that ornament off the tree. His mother would scold him, and tell him there’s a million other things to play with but it just wasn’t that stupid plastic skate, “My mom used to get so mad at me for taking it but, I loved it.”

“So you didn’t always hate Christmas?” You tease, a giggle escaping through your lips.

“I don’t hate Christmas, I’m just not obsessed with it,” Pierre defends, “But maybe I liked it more when I was a kid.”

“Well be more like seven year old Luc, and get decorating,” You joke, tossing an ornament at him.

Three hours and two broken decorations later, the tree was propped up in the corner of your living room. It looked perfect, because there was nothing that could stop you from decorating that tree flawlessly, but Pierre was sincerely proud of himself for how much he’d actually helped. You were happy, standing in front of it with the gold star that went on top in your hand, “Well put it on.”

“Shouldn’t you do that?” Pierre asks before you shake your head no and try to hand him the topper. Pierre stays planted in his spot, knowing if he looked at you for just another minute you’d explain yourself.

“I’m too short to get up there and I don’t feel like getting out a ladder-” Pierre scoffed before you could finish your sentence, ducking down and hooking your legs over his shoulders without a second thought. You squeal, latching your hands on any part of him you could to stop yourself from losing your balance, “You could’ve just done it.”

“Hang up the star before I drop you,” Pierre teases, loosening his grip on your thighs like he was going to let you fall. Your laugh filled your apartment, and Pierre knew that had to be his favorite sound in the world. You place the star on top of the tree, Pierre stepping back so you could admire your work.

“Perfect?” You ask, your eyes scanning over the twinkling lights that seemed to just hang from the tree flawlessly. Pierre didn’t look at the tree before he answered, his eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah it’s perfect.”

***

The first snow in Columbus could not have come at a better time. Pierre had an afternoon game, and by the time he’d been out of the arena on his way back to his place, the snow was starting to just cover the ground. You had been at his place all afternoon, baking away pieces for a gingerbread house because you told Pierre buying one was unacceptable. You practically destroyed his kitchen, the counters covered in flour and pieces of gingerbread dough. You had Christmas music blasting over the speaker, lost in your own little world until you heard the door open.

“What happened in here?” Pierre asks, his suit jacket slipping off of his shoulders while he took in the sight in front of him. His kitchen was a mess, the dishes piled high in the sink while the entire place was flooded with the smell of gingerbread, “Did you rob a bakery?”

Pierre picked up the candy that was neatly placed in different cups on the counter. He looked at you with an amused smile on his face, “I didn’t come here to fuck around, and neither did you.”

With your words came a bright green apron for Pierre, he unrolled the fabric taking a deep breath and reminding himself that if he wanted you to know he cared about you, he was going to have to suck it up and build the damn house.

As it turns out, building the damn house was harder than Pierre thought. The cookie kept crumbling, the house kept sliding apart and Pierre couldn’t construct a roof to save his life. You, on the other hand, were working tireless at the most well constructed gingerbread house he’d ever seen. You were lost in your own little world, mouthing along to the Christmas music playing in the background. It would have been cute, and at any other time Pierre probably thought you were downright adorable, but not while another cookie broke in his hands.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Pierre growls, a pout on his face while he swiped the cookie crumbs from his hands.

You laugh at his disgruntled state, his back was hunched and his face was red. It was what he looked like after a bad game, except your friend who prided himself on acting like a tough guy was absolutely defeated by a simple gingerbread house. You drop the pastry bag that was in your hands, “You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed!” Pierre yells, stepping back in frustration, “It’s the house it won’t-”

“Luc, listen to yourself for a minute, it’s not the house’s fault,” You explain gently, you walk behind him and place both of your hands on each of his arms, “Try again and calm down.”

Pierre didn’t want to finish the house, but if your hands were on him he wasn’t going to tell you to take them off anytime soon. Your hands were wrapped around his arms lightly, your chin resting on his back while you peeked around his arm.  He grabbed the bag and you rolled your eyes at how tense he was, “Do you hold hockey sticks that tightly, jeez.”

Pierre turns around, giving you a glare and raising his eyebrows. You stifle a laugh, trying your best to keep it together despite how hilarious you found his mood to be, “Quit making fun of me and help me.”

“Okay, okay,” You nod, running your arm along Pierre’s arm while you watched him try and squeeze the frosting out of the bag, “Slower Luc.”

Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner.

Pierre’s mind was racing, trying to drive his focus in the direction of the house, and not the fact that you were standing behind him. The air in the kitchen was thick, the same weird sexual tension that seemed to creep up when the two of you were alone for too long was back and stronger than ever. Your fingers ran along Pierre’s tattoos absentmindedly while you whispered simple directions that were turning Pierre’s brain to mush. He couldn’t think of anything else beside the fact that all he wanted was turn around and press his lips to yours, but he couldn’t just do that.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, while your logical side told you that you were simply telling Pierre how to build the silly little house and this shouldn’t feel so sexual - but it did. Pierre touched you all the time, a hand on your back while you guys were out, a kiss on the forehead whenever he hugged you and you never thought anything of it until you realized he didn’t do that with everyone. So you panicked, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that reminded you that you wanted him, and pretending like it never happened. That wasn’t easy, and every minute you spent with Pierre you could feel yourself falling into him like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

The moment was ruined by the sound of a cookie sheet hitting the floor, and the sound of a scared puppy’s feet running away in fear. You both jumped, your hands flying off of Pierre when the realization that you were doing it again washed over you. You were letting yourself pretend like this could lead somewhere and that one day Pierre would choose you and it would all work itself out. Except that was just hope and hope wasn’t going to stop your heart from getting broken.

“You should shower, I’ll start cleaning,” You offer, moving around the kitchen to clean so you could hide the blush on your cheeks.

And a cold shower was probably what Pierre needed.

***

This wasn’t part of my Christmas activities.

You were whining while Pierre drove down to the arena, the Blue Jackets family skate was that afternoon and he insisted you went. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, but you couldn’t  stop yourself from reading into things. He’d never brought you to the skate before, so why now?

“Isn’t this on that silly list of Christmas activities?” Pierre reminds you, tapping your leg lightly with his free hand, “Or do you just not know how to skate or something?”

“Well…” You start, Pierre’s eyebrows raising while he focused on the road ahead of you, “I don’t-”

“You eat Christmas cheer for the entire month of December but you don’t know how to ice skate? When were you going to tell me?” Pierre teases, chuckling while he shook his head at you.

“It never came up!” You defend, crossing your arms at him for teasing you, “And I didn’t tell you for this exact reason.”

Pierre made fun of you for the rest of the ride, teasing you that you should skate with his teammate’s kids who were practically toddlers and were probably better than you were. You walked into the arena behind Pierre, immediately smiling at the familiar faces of his teammates and their families. You made your way to his stall, Pierre telling you to sit he could get your skates laced up. You bit your lip, watching his hands work at the laces as delicately as he could. You were sure he was rougher with his own, but Pierre’s touch was always light as a feather with you.

“Too tight?” Pierre asks, breaking out of your trance from his too big veiny hands.

“No it’s fine,” You squeak out, and you could hear Tex snickering to himself next to you.

Pierre wasn’t a bad teacher for someone who almost tossed a gingerbread house across his apartment just a week prior. He was slow, his fingers laced with yours while he pulled you along and tried to help you skate on your own. It was a failure, and you looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time, but Pierre refused to believe you couldn’t get better. 

“You guys disgust me,” Tex chirps, hopping onto the bench next to you while you watch Pierre play tag with Savvy’s kids. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, “You’re both so disgustingly in love with each other why won’t you just admit it?”

“Because Pierre’s going to find someone else who won’t be me,” You sigh, picking at your nails. You told Tex this once before, when you were wine drunk and sad about the date Pierre was on, “He’s just my friend.”

Tex wanted to scream, lock you both into a room and force you to talk about your feelings. He wasn’t going to do that, because he didn’t want to be the demise of what he thought might actually be something, but god did he want to. You both were frustrating the hell out of him, and if Pierre didn’t nut up soon he was going to take matters into his own hands by New Years.

“You don’t know that, if you told him-” Tex tries his hardest to reason with you, make you see that it’s worth the jump because Pierre was on the other side waiting for you.

“So he can flat out reject me and never speak to me again? Really I’m good,” You huff out, swinging your leg over the boards to get back onto the ice. You were doing okay, until you started to push yourself forward. Two steps later, you were on your way to face plant into the ice until you felt two arms wrap around your waist.

“Easy there,” Pierre laughs, stopping you just before you fell, “You’re not an expert now.”

“You’re such a bully,” You tease, avoiding Tex’s gaze when Pierre intertwined your fingers to pull you across the ice. Tex watched you both, the shared laughs and longing stares were just proof to him that if people did have one person for them, you were it for each other.

Only if you could get it through your heads. 

***

The Savard’s threw a bigger Christmas party than you’d ever seen before in your life. You loved David and his wife, given Pierre introduced you to them as his adoptive parents the first time you ever came over for dinner with him. It was your favorite version of Pierre, the one who let David’s kids paint his nails and color the black and white ink on his arms. You walked up the well decorated driveway, your heels clicking against the pavement while you made your way inside.

“You need to go see your boy in the kitchen,” You hear Seth call over to you, grabbing your attention as soon as you walk into the house. You wave hello first, making your way into the kitchen to see a sight that you were most definitely not expecting.

Pierre was sitting on a candy cane throne, a big Santa hat on his head and equally as red suit to match. He had one of Nick’s kids on his lap, listening to the little boy about the train set he’d been writing to Santa about since Thanksgiving. Your heart grew about four sizes at the sight, you walked over and tapped Pierre on the shoulder, “Can I borrow Santa for a minute?”

“Are you Mrs. Claus?” The question was a simple one, and the two big brown eyes that were looking up at you were the only thing that didn’t stop you from saying yes.

“Mrs. Claus huh?” Pierre teases, pulling you onto his lap while you watched Nick’s son make his way back to his mother.

“I wasn’t about to ruin his Christmas,” You shook your head, running a hand over the white fur on the jacket Pierre was wearing, “How’d you get sucked into this?”

“I was going to say no, but then I knew you’d at least laugh at me,” Pierre admits, a blush creeping up his neck. His hands were wrapped securely around your waist like for a moment he could just pretend like he had you, “Wanna tell the big guy what you want for you Christmas.”

“Hmm, nothing,” You settle on, “And you won’t know until you finally tell me what you want.”

The sound of cheers flooded the kitchen, and when you went to look at what all of the ruckus was about you realized that you were the ruckus. Seth had a shit eating grin on his face while he held the mistletoe above your heads. You knew you were flush, the heat on your cheeks made it clear while Pierre looked like he was a pale as a ghost. He planted a kiss on your cheek, telling Seth to fuck off before you pushed yourself off of him, muttering an excuse about needed to use the bathroom. 

You had your palms against the sink while you tried to catch your own breath. This was the reason you never made a move, because you knew it wouldn’t end in some sort of heartbreak. It was clear Pierre didn’t want to kiss you, and that was enough for you to let him go forever. You wiped the tears that were welling up in your eyes, deciding that when you walked out that door Pierre was your friend and your friend only.

“Where are you going?” Pierre caught your arm when you tried to leave the party, the idea of going home for a good cry was far better than a rowdy holiday party. He looked insane, his eyes wild while he panted to catch his breath after he searched the house in a panic for you.

“Home, I’m just not feeling well-” You come up with an excuse fast, hoping the quicker you spoke the quicker you could get out of there.

“Is this about Seth? I’ll kick the shit out of him,” Pierre promises, latching onto anything that would fix your mood.

Your feelings were something Pierre was an expert at, probably because he never seemed to take his eyes off of you. He knew when you were upset just from your body language alone and you were definitely not happy. Was it from Seth trying to force the idea that you should be together or was it that he didn’t kiss you? It had to be the first, because if it was the latter then Pierre fucked up his entire plan to make you see that he loved you.

“No it’s fine, really I just think I should go,” You were begging Pierre not to fight you on this, so he wasn’t going but he was going to be damned if he let you slip through his fingers.

“Stay, Tex and I were about to sing Christmas karaoke,” Pierre offers, dragging out his words, “I’ll let you pick the song.”

Pierre and Tex ended up serenading you with the worst rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You you’d ever heard. Their dance moves were a crime, and they were definitely the two most tone deaf people you have ever met, but their heart was in the right place. The mistletoe incident was forgotten for the moment, your attention directed at the silly drinking games you were playing with your friends. You sat on the kitchen counter in the Savard’s home, your head leaning on Pierre’s shoulder after you’d taken your fourth shot in the span of an hour. A hangover was definitely on the horizon, but for the time it wasn’t going to kill your buzz.

“I hate when you do that you know?” You poke Pierre’s side, grabbing his attention from the crowd of people in the kitchen.

“Do what?” Pierre asks, a bold hand landing on your thigh.

“Make everything better somehow, it’s pretty fucking annoying Luc,” You tease, taking a look at his face for a moment. Pierre smiled before he answered you, the kind where his teeth would show and you could see his little vampire teeth you loved so much.

“I’ll always make it better Y/N.”

***

You’re coming over right?

Pierre sighs at your question, your voice flooding the speaker in his car while he drove home from his game. It was December 23rd, and he wanted to sneak in a nap before his middle of the night flight to Montreal to see his parents for Christmas. He’d just finished an afternoon game, one where the team lost and Torts lost his mind on them before he shipped them off to Christmas break tired and angry, but he wasn’t going to miss out on seeing you before Christmas. He made a promise to himself he’d tell, come clean once he felt like you knew he loved you. Maybe you did, and if you didn’t you were in for one hell of a surprise.

Pierre took a quick right in the direction of your place, deciding you couldn’t wait any longer. His brain was switched to autopilot and when he opened your apartment door with the key you gave him forever ago, he realized what this was. You were sitting on the couch, a gift box in your hand that was undoubtedly for him and it hit Pierre like a freight train.

He didn’t get you anything.

Pierre could’ve punched himself, calling out every name in the book because he was an idiot. He spent so much time focusing on spending time with you, and going along with all of your silly little Christmas things that he didn’t even realize he forgot to get you a gift at all. Pierre just knew whatever was in that bag was thoughtful and perfect, and he was walking in empty handed.

“Open it!” You exclaim, your excitement couldn’t be contained. Honestly, you were surprised you made it this far without spilling the beans about the gift. 

You hand Pierre the box, and he opens it slowly, pulling the top of the box off and gasping at what was inside. The skate ornament was the same as the one he mentioned when you were decorating your tree, the blue and red Canadians logo faded a bit, “Is this…?”

“I called your mom and asked her for it,”  You admit sheepishly, a little embarrassed to admit just how often you did talk to Pierre’s parents. He didn’t call often, mostly because he simply would forget, so his mother would start just calling you instead, “I know it’s silly but I thought maybe it’d remind you that the holidays aren’t all bad-”

“I love it, it’s perfect,” Pierre whispers, letting the ornament dangle from his large hand, “I fucked up, I uh, shit, I forgot to get you something.”

You laugh, practically falling to the floor while the giggles take over your body, “Luc, you sucked it up all month for me that’s enough.”

“It’s not, I did all of this so you’d know that I loved you and when I told you it would make sense,” Pierre starts to ramble, pacing around your apartment, “And I couldn’t even be bothered to remember to get you a damn gift.”

“You love me?” You repeat, just to make sure you’d gotten clear what’s been up with him since the start of the month. You felt the shift, the extra acts of kindness that just weren’t normal for him, but you knew if you read into it you might end up disappointed.

“I’m hopelessly in love with you, like one of those romantic Christmas movies you love so much,” Pierre admits, looking at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen. You stood in front of him, dumbfounded that your best friend just told you he loved you, “Please say something.”

“Do you know what I want for Christmas?” You ask, taking a bold step forward and wrapping your arms around Pierre’s neck, “This year I want you alone.”

Pierre closed the gap between the two of you, and it felt like the entire world had stopped. The bustling city outside didn’t matter, Pierre’s flight in a few hours didn’t matter, and the brutal loss he’d taken hours later was on the backburner. Right now, Pierre’s hands were wrapped around your waist while your lips were pressed against his and he would have rather died than let go of you in that moment.

“So I don’t have to get you a gift right?”

“No you still do, but you can kiss me again first.”

[sazandorable]

I accidentally ran into a really good metaphor for art and authorial intent and audience (re)appropriation and the message and importance of art yesterday...

I was at training for the Thiagi framegames this week (irrelevant but very interesting and useful stuff for anyone in education or creative or even just teamwork job, check it out). The teacher made us try a “jolt” game that involved following her instructions to cross our arms and hands and knot it all up and pinch our nose between 2 fingers, in such a way that she could easily untie her hands at the end, but most of the group was unable to do it. The point of Thiagi games is always debriefing: What do we think, how did that make us feel, what do we take away from that?

People who couldn’t do it felt confused, stupid, inadequate. Some immediately assumed there was a trick and the teacher hadn’t given all the instructions correctly, or even that she was playing us on purpose. Some immediately assumed they had messed up and were too stupid to follow clear instructions, or that there was something wrong with their physical ability to do the thing.

But I and one other person managed it instantly. I tried again, and again, and again, and it was super easy, no thinking required. This surprised the teacher, because it doesn’t usually happen, but it was useful too: the fact that some people in the group could do it changed the general feeling in the group, caused yet more frustration and confusion.

But for me, too, it was different: I couldn’t figure out what other people’s problem was. The game was not only obvious to me, I literally couldn’t see the issue and was surprised that others were struggling with an obstacle that didn’t exist for me at all. I tried again and again, and suddenly one time around I couldn’t do it, and for half a second I panicked at being stuck without knowing what I’d done differently and why I couldn’t do it when it was supposed to be easy for me.

Meanwhile the other person who managed thought she had messed up and was “not the target audience for this game” because she wasn’t struggling like all the others.

The trick of the instructions is finger placement in a special way that most people don’t spontaneously do, so the main takeaway of that game is supposed to be that sometimes habits hold you back, or that you might be missing some instructions, or to pay attention to tiny details, etc.

But for me, it immediately brought thoughts about a gifted child used to Performing with ease and feeling no pride in it, but panicking and catastrophising the second you “underperform” and fall to the same level as most other people. Feeling odd and sticking out and like you messed up by succeeding. Or the flipside of neurodivergence and disability: obstacles that neurotypical and abled people cannot see or even think about because those obstacles do not exist for them, but those obstacles are very real for neurodivergent and disabled people.

The teacher was delighted that I brought up that interpretation, but she had not thought of or expected it. She welcomed it and valued it, but she had categorically not intended it when she ran the game by us.

The game itself was invented by “Thiagi” (scientist and teacher Sivasailam Thiagarajan). I have no idea what he intended.

Does it matter?

Is my interpretation incorrect because the ‘author’ did not intend it? Was it truly not intended at all, or was it perhaps intended by the original creator (Thiagi) despite the adaptator (my teacher) not being aware of that? Or did she still carry that meaning with her subconsciously and unawaredly anyway?

Was any of us “more right” with our interpretations? Does the majority’s interpretation cancel out mine? Is the majority wrong because they missed my interpretation?

Is my interpretation automatically right because I feel in my gut that it resonates with my marginalised identity? Or is it biased and overemotional and personal and automatically should be disregarded?

If it is, is my teacher a bad person for spreading that experience without explicitly saying it is/can be/could be about disability and neurodivergence? Is she a bad person for spreading that experience without being disabled and neurodivergent herself? Actually, I don’t know that for sure and am only assuming; am I entitled to ask for that personal information? Are the other participants bad people for not seeing it?

If someone else who is disabled and/or neurodivergent doesn’t read that the same way, does that make me wrong? Does it make them wrong and a bad person? If they think the game is a bad representation of disability and neurodivergence, does it make the teacher, Thiagi, or myself bad people? Does it matter in this case whether Thiagi himself intended it when he created the game?

If Thiagi didn’t intend it and is not neurodivergent, am I allowed to feel the way I do about that game? Is it bad that I like that game over more explicit stories by openly disabled creators? Am I allowed use that metaphor to explain to neurotypical people what it feels like to be neurodivergent?

Does it “count” as representation?

If it resonates with me, does that mean that meaning is categorically there? Does it make Thiagi and/or the teacher allies, does it make them ableist? Does that mean either of them should do or say anything public about that game? Would that make them allies, make them ableist? Do I want that? Do other people want that? Would it change my feelings? What if they said it’s not intended and not there?

Would it “count” as representation?

Does it matter?

(To be clear, I intend these questions as questions to make people think and I’m not saying that any of them do or should have objective clear-cut answers that everyone agrees on. But maybe some of you reading have strong opinions on some answers! Does it matter what I think and what I intend with this post, too?)

[bonnyskies]

come back to me [fourteen] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairing — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 2.1k

author’s note — this chapter is considered more as a filler than any other, introducing you to the main focus and getting you ready for the next one.

masterlist

Once again, Jungkook couldn’t sleep last night.

Throughout the night, until the sun rose up Jungkook found himself tossing and turning in his bed, slipping in and out consciousness.

Jungkook didn’t realize how long he spent trying to fall asleep until the blinding sight of the sun shining through his bedroom’s curtains came into his view. And when turning his head to glance at the clock resting on his nightstand, he then noticed that it was a quarter to eight already.

He must’ve only gotten only four hours of sleep—at least.

Jungkook sat up from his bed and stretched, groaning at the feeling of his strained muscles relaxing. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were already awake, expecting to hear the sound of you or Minho’s footsteps coming from the hallway. And yet, he heard nothing.

Standing up from his bed, Jungkook didn’t bother putting on a shirt before coming out his room, leaving him only in a pair of grey sweats.

Jungkook tiptoed and entered your room, eyes immediately falling upon your sleeping figure. His gaze then moved onto Minho, who was laying beside you, already awake and silently playing on your phone.

“Hey there, buddy.” Jungkook whispered quietly, and before his son had the chance to say anything back he raised his index finger up to his lips, hinting for him to be quiet. “Do you wanna to help appa make breakfast?”

Minho instantly nodded his head excitingly, turning off your phone and holding his arms out for Jungkook—which he gladly accepted, lifting his son up into arms and quietly tiptoeing out of your room. “What do you want for breakfast?” Jungkook asks the moment them two were out of your room.

“Can we have pancakes?”

“Pancakes again?” Jungkook questions, eyes squinting with uncertainty and a small pout shown on his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

Minho nodded again, more eagerly this time. “Yes please, appa.”

“Oh, alright.” Jungkook agreed, pinching his son’s chubby cheeks and grinning at him. “We’ll have pancakes again for breakfast since you want them so bad...”

“Thank you, appa!”

“You know I can’t ever say no to you, bubs.” Jungkook stated, carrying him into the kitchen and placing him onto the counter beside the stove but still kept a safe distance away from the burning appliance.

Jungkook started preparing breakfast instantly, the ingredients gathered by his side with Minho on his other side. While watching his father cook, Minho swung his legs idly back and forth with a wide, toothy grin on his face. “Appa, can you make the edges crunchy? I like it that way.”

“Anything for you, bubs.” Jungkook leaned over and pecked his son’s small nose, earning a small giggle from him. “When did you start eating them that way? You’ve always liked how I made before them, soft and squishy.”

“Appa started making them that way after you left.”

Jungkook’s heart instsntly clenched at his words, not knowing that Minho meant by him leaving for tour—not because of your guys’ relationship ending. “W-Well, that’s good then. But nobody can beat my pancakes though, right bubs?” His voice changing from a stuttering mess to a teasing tone in an instant.

“Don’t make me pick, appa.” Minho pouted.

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head playfully and returning his focus back on the stove.

Not even ten minutes later, Minho spoke up. But this time was different. His voice was no longer playful and gentle, but more serious and sounded even hesitant. “Appa, can I ask you something?”

Jungkook hummed in reply, eyes never leaving the stove.

“Do you still love appa?”

“Of course,” Jungkook answered in an instant, eyes nearly bulging at his son’s question. “Why would you ask me that?”

The frown on Minho’s face only grew in size. “Why aren’t you two together then? Because appa also still loves you—very much.”

Jungkook sighed, lowering his head. For his age, Minho is quite intelligent, so Jungkook knew that this conversation would happen sooner or later. He just preferred the latter. “It’s...It’s just complicated right now, bubs.”

“But you and appa love each other, so why wouldn’t you be together?”

“It’s not that easy, buddy.” Jungkook replied, flipping one of the pancakes and releasing an ashamed sigh. “Let’s just say that appa made a really big mistake and it’s hard to just forgive and forget.”

“What did you do, appa?” Minho tilts his head curiously.

Again, Minho is considered smart for his age. He’s aware that Jungkook is the reason for your sudden change in behavior.

Jungkook just stared at the cooking batter. How do you tell your own son it’s your fault for everything that has been going wrong? “Just...something bad—but don’t worry,” Jungkook quickly added, noticing his son’s frown grow even more. “I’m trying to fix it.”

“How?” Minho continued to question.

“Doing everything in my power to earn your appa’s trust back and make him happy again.” Jungkook answered, briefly glancing at his son while moving one of the finished pancakes onto an empty plate. “Do you think that’s possible?”

Minho nodded instantly, “Appa loves you a lot, so yes, appa, you can do it. It should be easy.”

Jungkook chuckled, “I hope you’re right, bubs.”

“Now,” he then clapped his hands, replacing the small frown on his lips with a smile, trying to lighten his son’s downed mood. “Why don’t we finish making these pancakes, and then we can give these to appa while he’s in bed? I’m sure he’ll love breakfast in bed.”

The frown on Minho’s face instantly dropped and was replaced with a grin, nodding his head.

“Good morning, appa!”

You were barely awake, eyes squinting, when Minho came suddenly barging into your room with a wide smile on his lips. You were about to ask him what he wanted for breakfast but soon found yourself speechless when Jungkook also then stepped inside your room, trailing behind him with a tray in his hands, containing a plate full of pancakes and a cup of orange juice.

“W-What is this?” You mumbled out, glancing towards Jungkook who had small hints of blush on his cheeks.

“Me and appa made breakfast for you,” Minho answered for Jungkook.

“Thank you,” straightening yourself on the bed, you said while Jungkook placed the tray of food on your lap.

Watching you take your first bite of your food, Minho then said, “And it was appa’s idea to give your breakfast in bed.”

Glancing back up, you could see Jungkook’s cheeks become even more red. “T-Thank you,” you repeated again, taking another bite.

Jungkook hummed in reply, swallowing the anxious lump in the back of his throat.

“What about you two?” You asked, sharing a glance between Minho and Jungkook who both took a seat at the edge of your bed. “Have you two eaten yet?”

Jungkook nodded, “Yes, we ate.”

“Then why didn’t you two wake me up?”

“Appa said that you deserve some extra sleep.” Minho stated, turning to his father to see him confirm his words with nod.

You didn’t say anything, only continued to eat. And for the rest of the morning, Jungkook and Minho watched as you finished your breakfast in complete silence.

After finishing your breakfast, you were now in the kitchen cleaning the mess, which included washing the dishes—both yours and theirs, and cleaning up and putting away the ingredients.

Jungkook tried to argue, saying that you didn’t have to but you ignored his protests, telling him that it was the least you could do for him making the delicious breakfast for you.

As you washed the dishes, Jungkook stood behind you leaning against the counter while eating some cashews. “So, I was thinking we could go to the zoo today. You know, me, you and Minho can have a family day together.”

You froze.

“What do you think?” He then asks quietly, noticing your surprised state.

Your mouth opened but no words came out. There was a part of you that was screaming yes, let’s go out and have a family day. But there was also another part that was telling you that this was a bad idea and that you were only going to just hurt yourself again.

Yesterday was probably the best day you’ve had in a long time, despite it not starting it that way. The way you and Jungkook spoke to each other so smoothly, conversations filled with cheerful laughter and smiles.

But of course, your mind had to remind you that everything that happened last night was just for appearance. Seeing her name flashing on his phone’s screen reminded you that you two weren’t married anymore—let alone together, in the midst of finalizing a divorce and also, he’s in a relationship with someone else. The only reason you two were even on that date was just for your guys’ image.

Going out today, as a family would only cause more pain and mock you about how much you wanted a happy, healthy family that didn’t end up happening in the end. And as for Minho, it would only give him false hope that there’s a tiny chance that his two parents would get back together again—which is not the case.

Having a family day together is just a bad idea.

“I-I don’t know if that’s a good idea Jungkook,” you pointed out, heart aching at the frown that formed on his lips. “Going to the zoo together would just—”

“We’re going to the zoo?”

Both your heads whipped to where Minho stood in front of you two, eyes wide and mouth gaped open with excitement clear on his face.

“O-Oh,” you briefly glanced at Jungkook who shared the same unsure expression as you. “I’m not sure yet, pumpkin. Maybe we can—”

“No, please can we go, please appa!” Minho whined, running over and clinging onto your legs while flashing you his puppy dog eyes—and he knew you couldn’t resist. You attempted to turn away, but was only greeted by Jungkook who had the same expression, his wide doe eyes staring back at you with his lips pouting.

You couldn’t help but release your own whine, hopping on the heels of your feet while Minho continued to beg. “Okay, fine.” You gave in, sighing and rolling your eyes. “We can go.”

At your answer, both Minho and Jungkook cheered and high-dived each other, smiles on their faces. “Alright, bubs. Why don’t we let appa finish cleaning while we get changed, okay?”

Minho nodded, arms wide open for Jungkook to lift him up and carry him to the bedroom.

You watched them until they were out of sight, and once you were alone you let out a long, much needed sigh.

Spending the entire day with your ex-husband? Oh, how great this will be.

At least Minho will be there to ease everything, you thought.

Cleaning up the rest of the mess and changing didn’t take as long as you thought it would.

With you and Jungkook already changed, he was still in the bedroom helping Minho get ready while you were waiting in the living room, practically shaking with anxiety.

Today is going to be different from yesterday. While you and Jungkook only spent a few hours together last night, today you’ll be with each other for the entire day. And even though Minho will be there accompanying you two this time, you can’t picture your son will be much help easing the awkward tension.

Suddenly, the sound of a phone ringing hit your ears. You instantly recognized the familiar tune of a baby crying, which led you to know the owner of the phone—Jungkook.

You stood up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen where his phone was resting on the counter. You knew you shouldn’t be nosy, but you couldn’t help but be curious and glance over to see who was calling him.

Your heart sunk when seeing who it was.

incoming call: yeonha

But that pained feeling was instantly replaced with confusion and curiosity.

Why wasn’t her name babygirl anymore?

don’t worry, you’ll learn what jungkook’s conversion with yeonha was about in the next chapter :)

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx​, @yoongis-soulmate​, @jikookvfans​, @heartfeltscribblings​, @blazedprince​, @btsfaris​, @sonderkook​, @angel-moni​, @http-je0n​, @magic-fox-555​, @moonfairyjoon​, @taozibun1​, @ephemeralkookie​, @thesquiglybumblebee​, @httpjazel​, @justqueerandhereforthetea​, @dreamer95​, @singabon-roll​, @its-your-dreamworld​, @fancykoos​, @galaxyeyedjungkook​, @nlnkm​, @you-need-namjesus​, @teuteusstuff​, @moon-asia​, @julia-pacheco-blog​, @0minabean0​, @pjmislovely​, @polly-wifu​, @jinsonaz​, @unsolvetheheckoutofit​

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 7) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]

UPDATE: this is now it’s own standalone fic on AO3! (since it’s much longer than the fics/oneshots i usually put in “i’ll fight the stars for you”)

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link] // [Main AO3]

the president and the troublemaker (part 7)

I love you, Lumine. I love you, Lumine.

I love you I love you Iloveyouiloveyou.

Those were the only words bouncing around the walls of Lumine’s skull as she dashed down the stairs, desperate to reach Childe as soon as possible. 

Oh, and the thought of, You idiot. You idiot. YOU IDIOT, CHILDE!

She ran past globs of students, who all turned their heads in confusion, as the President—who was usually the one who shouted, “No running down the hallways!”—was now the one rushing past everyone. 

She burst out of one of the school’s side entrances, making her way to the pool area where she had seen him fall. 

Please be alive, you idiot. 

She rounded the corner, going through the metal fence gate, the subtle smell of pool water entering her nose. Then the pool was in her sight. 

Sitting on the edge, was Chlide, alive. His school uniform was dripping wet and shredded, his face and body were covered in scratches, and there were twigs tangled in his orange locks. He was taking in shuddering breaths, one hand holding his side painfully. 

Lumine finally let herself slow down, taking staggering steps towards Childe. At the sound of her footsteps approaching, he looked up. 

He smiled widely, and held up the photo that had fallen. “I’m pretty awesome, aren’t I?” he said. 

Lumine just looked at him, him smiling at her like all of the pain in his body had suddenly disappeared. You’re in pain, idiot. Stop smiling, she wanted to say. 

But instead, her legs shook under her, and she collapsed onto her knees next to him, unable to stop the stupid meek smile breaking out on her face. “Yes,” she conceded quietly. “Yes, you are.” She took in a shaky breath. “Don’t...don’t ever do something like that again.” 

A tiny chuckle came from Childe. “What’s this? The President is worried about me? And not the other way around for once?”

Before Lumine could respond, the two heard the shuffling of footsteps, and the student council came through the gates to the pool. 

Bennett came forward to Lumine. “What’s going on? We heard a commotion—”

Lumine stood up. “Hospital! We have to get a hospital for Childe!”

“Oh my! What happened?” Noelle asked worriedly.

Lumine blinked. Maybe it’s time I tell them the truth. If they had known the truth, something like this wouldn’t have happened…

“Same old, same old,” Childe spoke up before Lumine could. “Pres was chasing me down to write me up for skipping class, so I jumped off the roof.” He shrugged. “No big deal.” 

Xiao sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You thought jumping off the roof was the best way to avoid being written up?” 

“Nevermind that!” Amber started running. “I’ll go call an ambulance straight away!” 

The rest of the student council followed Amber, except for Aether, who stood a few feet away, his mouth in a taut line. 

Lumine frowned, and went to him. “Aether, is something wrong?” she asked quietly. 

He looked at her, and Lumine knew straight away he was disappointed. “No.” He turned away. “Let’s go get that ambulance for our dear friend.” He walked off. 

Lumine watched his receding back with furrowed brows. Aether was always one to get along with anyone, never expressing any sort of dislike for any individual. 

And yet, the venom behind “our dear friend” had Lumine convinced Childe was his arch nemesis, which did not sit well with her at all. For some odd reason or another, she wanted Childe and her brother to get along. 

“What was that about?” Childe asked. 

“I don’t know…,” Lumine responded. “But I intend to find out.”

* * *

After going with Childe to the hospital, Lumine and Aether found themselves waiting outside his room as he underwent various examinations to see what damage had been done to his body. 

The hallways had quieted down, a few doctors and nurses walking back and forth, with muted conversations humming far away. Lumine and Aether sat next to each other in silence. 

A few more moments passed, then Lumine finally broke the silence. “Aether, tell me what’s wrong.” 

He took a deep breath in. “What were you doing with Childe?” he asked. 

Lumine sighed. “I was doing Albedo’s study and Childe showed up. I told Albedo that him and I weren’t friends, and he seemed upset by it, so I went to talk to him.” 

Aether stared at the tiled ground beneath them for a while. “Are you?” he finally said. “Are you two friends?” 

“I love you, Lumine.” Lumine rubbed her forehead, trying to get Childe’s words out of her mind. “Kind of. Something like that. I guess.” 

“You really don’t sound so sure.” 

“Would it be so bad, Aether?” she nearly snapped. “Would it really be so bad if Childe and I were friends?”

Aether frowned slightly. “Lumi, I told you that getting involved with him was a bad idea. We have no idea who he is and what he does when he isn’t around us. And, if anyone found out the two of you are ‘friends?’ Well, you can bet that your reputation would go straight down the drain.” 

Lumine stared at her twin. Yes, everything he had said was true. He was always the sensible one, the thinker of the two. Lumine, on the other hand, acted on her feelings; she was the instigator, the fighter. 

And her feelings knew something wasn’t right. 

“You don’t know him. The people at school don’t know him,” she answered quietly. “You guys aren’t the ones who have seen how kind and selfless he can be.” 

“Lumine, what are you talking about—”

“He's been there for me a lot recently. He’s saved my ass more than I can admit, and I think that speaks for itself.” She clasped her hands together. “I don’t think he’s such a bad guy as we thought in the past.” She looked up at her brother. “Give him a chance.” He deserves it...after all he’s done for me. 

Aether’s face was worn with confusion and pain. Lumine could understand why. 

As twins, they always had a special connection together. They were always best friends, knew all of each other’s secrets, always following each other, always side-by-side. 

And now, they were on two different sides. All because of one orange-haired troublemaker. 

The door next to them opened, and out walked the doctor, who informed the twins they could go in and see Childe if they wished, before heading off. 

Lumine stood while Aether remained seated. She waited by the door, but Aether didn’t budge. 

“I…,” he started. He stood up slowly. “I’ll see you back home.” 

There was a twinge in Lumine’s heart as she watched her brother walk away. She had half a mind to go after him, to agree with him, and have her life return back to normal. 

But she didn’t move. She stayed right there, her hand on the door handle. 

And then the door opened, pulling her abruptly inside, and causing her to trip over her own feet. 

Fortunately, Childe caught her. 

“Childe?” Lumine looked up at him with wide eyes. There were bandages wrapped all over his body, and his face was twisted in a wince as he struggled to hold her up. 

Lumine quickly scrambled out of his arms. “What are you doing up?! Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” 

Childe rubbed his arms. “I got bored.” He tilted his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school right now?” 

“Why would I be at school when you’re—”

“Injured?” A large smile stretched across Childe’s face. “So you’d rather be here to take care of me than be a responsible president and stay at school?” 

Heat crept into Lumine’s face. “I am being responsible,” she said. “I was the one who got you here in the first place,” she continued as she went to the hospital bed, readjusting the pillows and blankets, “so it’s only right that I am here for your recovery as well.” 

“What a treat,” Childe chimed. “The President is playing nurse for me.” He turned towards the door. “I’ll have to indulge later. Being cooped up in here all day has made me antsy.” 

Lumine threw herself against the door, shutting it closed. “If you don’t like being cooped up, I’d say you should actually rest so you can recover quicker.” 

Childe laughed, then put an arm above Lumine’s head, and leaned forward, his body towering over hers. “Make me,” he murmured, his face dangerously close to hers. 

I love you, Lumine. 

His words flashed through her mind, and her whole body jolted with electricity.

She put her hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly. “I-If you don’t,” she stuttered. Her eyes focused on the floor, unable to meet Childe’s intense gaze. “I-I’ll hate you forever.” After a moment, she looked up to see Childe’s expression had softened. 

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Well, now.” He moved back from her. “I wouldn’t like that very much.” He made his way back to the bed, leaning back on the pillows. He looked back to her, blue eyes shining. “Does this mean you actually like me right now?” 

“S-Shut up!” she blurted. She flung the door open, and muttered, “I’ll be right back,” before stepping out of the room. 

She let out a shuddering breath, leaning against the closed door.

Damn you, Childe. 

Her hand clutched her shirt, feeling her heavy heartbeat through her chest. 

What are you doing to me? 

* * *

Lumine looked over the list in her hand, stacking up all the books and paperwork she needed. She picked up the heavy stack, shuffling towards her front door. 

“Where are you going with all that?” Aether asked behind her. 

Uh-oh. 

“I…” She started to come up with a lie, but stopped herself. Aether wasn’t someone she could lie to. She sighed, setting the books down. 

“I’m going to Childe’s place,” she said. “He’s been out of school recovering so I’m going over to help catch him up.” 

Aether stared at her. Lumine braced herself for another lecture about her involvement with Childe. 

But then he stepped forward, picking up half the stack of books. 

“I’m coming too,” he said simply, walking out the door. 

Lumine was confused, speechless. 

What was he doing?

* * *

“Are you sure this is his house, Lumi?” Aether asked.

Lumine looked down at the piece of paper with Childe’s address written on it. “That’s what he wrote here.” 

Before them stood a grand estate, something Lumine and Aether had only seen in movies—a great stone mansion decorated with lush topiary gardens, glistening fountains, and delicately stoned pathways, all guarded with tall, iron fencing and a large gate currently blocking them. 

“How...How do we get in?” Lumine wondered. 

Suddenly a black box attached to a nearby stone pillar buzzed to life.

“Please state your business,” a voice crackled from the box. 

Lumine approached the box carefully. “I am, uhm, a classmate of Childe’s,” she answered. “I’m here to help him study?” 

There was a long pause. Then the gate buzzed as well, and slowly started opening. 

“Master Childe will greet you at the front door,” the voice informed. 

Lumine and Aether exchanged confused looks. 

Master Childe? 

The twins made their way up the long stone driveway, finally reaching the grand double doors. Lumine awkwardly knocked.

After a moment, the doors swung open, and Childe stood there, an equally confused expression on his face. “You...You actually came?” 

Lumine blinked. “...Was I not supposed to?”

“Well, I never expected you to actually come here.” Childe let out a tiny chuckle, laced with disbelief. “But here you are.” He looked at Aether. “With the Vice Pres too.”

“Of course,” Lumine responded, indignant. “Studying is serious business.” 

“Is this...actually your house?” Aether asked. 

“Yes, yes, don’t worry: I didn’t steal some random house for a joke.” He gestured behind him. “Come on in.” 

The two blondes made their way through the doorway, and both of their mouths fell open at the sight of the interior, which was just as grand as they suspected: tall, vaulted ceilings, polished marble flooring, huge windows that bathed the walls with bright light. A glass chandelier dangled above, and a wide, grandiose staircase sat before them.

Before the two could soak it all in, there was a mad pattering of footsteps coming from the stairs, and three tiny heads bobbed into view at the top—three children who looked like Childe: all varying degrees of adorable orange hair, blue eyes, and freckles. 

“Ah, Anthon, Tonia, Teucer!” he called to them. The children in question, shyly ducked out of sight. Childe sighed, crossing his arms. “Now, now, remember? You must always kindly greet guests, right?” 

There was a burst of giggles, before the children came clambering down the stairs, standing before Lumine and Aether. 

“This is Lumine, and this is her twin brother Aether,” Childe introduced. “Say, ‘hi.’”

“Hi, Lumine and Aether,” the children sang in unison. 

The little girl, Tonia, smiled at Lumine. “You look like a princess!”

The smaller boy—Teucer—stepped forward, loudly whispering, “Are you brother’s girlfriend?” 

The other boy, Anthon, grimaced. “Ew! Girlfriend?!”

“We are your brother’s friends,” Aether interjected, while Lumine tried not to choke on the air. 

“Okay, good job greeting them!” Childe said just as quickly. He started ushering them up the stairs. “Go on and play; we have to work!”

The children disappeared in their burst of giggles yet again. 

“You look after them all yourself?” Aether asked. 

Childe nodded, his eyes still looking up the stairs. “Whenever my parents are away on business. Which is frequently.” 

“You can’t just...hire a nanny?” Aether said, glancing around at their luxurious surroundings. 

“That would be the easy way,” Childe answered. “I care about them too much to let someone else look after them.” His blue eyes flickered to Aether. “You get that, don’t you?” 

Aether didn’t answer, and Lumine glanced between the two nervously. 

“I know I’ll have to let them go when they get older,” Childe continued. “But they’re good kids. They’ll make the right choices.” 

Aether silently regarded Childe, and Lumine could tell he was thinking about something, deeply. 

“Ah, well, let’s get to studying...shall we?” Lumine suggested, trying to break the tension. 

“Pres, do you think of anything else besides studying?” Childe teased. 

“Psh, of course.” Lumine narrowed her eyes at the troublemaker. “I think that you need to think of studying more. I’ve seen your grades.” 

The ginger smirked. “Hmm, stalking me, are we?” He started walking down one of the lengthy hallways. “Since you care so much about me and my grades, I guess I’ll study for you.” 

Lumine stomped after him. “I-It’s my job to care about the wellbeing of my students as the President!” She turned to her twin. “Right, Aether?”

Aether was still silently looking at Childe. Childe stopped walking as well, turning and meeting Aether’s stare. 

Aether then made his way to Childe, putting the stack of books into his arms, never breaking their eye contact. “I actually have other things I have to take care of today.” He stepped back. “I’m sure you two are more than capable of studying without me.” 

Childe accepted the books into his arms. “Of course. I think your sister is very capable on her own.” 

“She is,” Aether echoed. 

Lumine furrowed her brows. What were they talking about? 

Aether made his way back towards the front door. “Well...I’ll see you later at home, Lumi.” He smiled—it was genuine, happy, but with just an edge of sadness to it. “Good luck. Have fun, sis.” 

After her brother walked out the door, Lumine turned to Childe. “Uhm, sorry about that. I don’t know why Aether was acting so weird.” 

“How weird indeed,” Childe repeated, though he gave her a knowing smile. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s with that smile?”

“Nothing. Can’t I just be happy that my President cares about me so much that she’d give up her weekend to help me study?” 

Lumine turned her nose up. “I told you: it’s my job.” 

“Oh? So you do this for every student who misses school?” 

“Maybe I should just follow Aether home.” 

“I’m just teasing, Pres.” He leaned in a tiny bit. “Thank you for coming here today.” 

“You’re welcome,” she responded softly. 

Over the next few hours, the two poured over their textbooks and classwork, Lumine essentially tutoring Childe, and keeping him on track (which was very hard considering all he wanted to do was work on Lumine’s training instead). It was also very endearing to watch as he juggled studying with looking after his siblings, and Lumine found herself indeed having fun as Aether had wished earlier. 

When she returned home that night, Aether was studying at his desk, and she tried to quietly slip past his room as to not disturb him. 

“Lumi? Is that you?” he called. 

Lumine popped her head into his room. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to distract you.”

“No, I’m glad you did.” He paused, then looked Lumine in the eye. “You were right. Childe...He isn’t a bad guy.” A small smile. “I’m...I’m glad you met him.” 

Lumine blinked, confused for a moment. Then, she smiled back. 

“I’m glad I met him too.” 

* * *

[part 8]