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thunderheadfred · 3 years

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❄️Todoroki HC's🔥

Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - -

General

Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.

He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.

He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.

Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?

Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.

Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.

Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.

He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.

He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.

Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.

Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.

Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.

This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.

- - -

Dating

A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.

Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.

Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.

Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.

Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.

He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.

STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.

Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.

Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.

He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!

The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.

- - -

Icy-Hot

I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.

If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.

Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?

Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.

Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).

His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.

Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.

Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.

His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #gender neutral reader #todoroki headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #smut #fred writes #bnha #mha

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sylverstorms · 3 years

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Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

#mother miranda x oc #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #commission #thank you so much :')

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tyunniverse · 4 years

Text

FRIENDS FOR A DAY (2)

pair: yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2654

parts: 1 | 2

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

It had been a long time since Yeonjun felt like this. Sometimes life in general had become too much to bear and the things that used to make him happy weren't working for him anymore. Times spent alone slowly became more frequent for him than times he'd spent with his friends.

He'd skipped the first day, not wanting to go back to that routine life just yet. And towards the start of the day, he would never have imagined meeting you and getting to spend the day doing things that strayed far from any of the schedules he'd previously planned. A breath of fresh air was what he liked to call it, and he had you to thank for that.

Unlike him, everything was new to you; a new city, a new school, new people, and a whole new life ahead. Yeonjun felt a little envious after realizing it when you'd talked more about yourselves during lunch, but after seeing how you seemed to enjoy every single second of your little sight seeing endeavor, he thought that maybe he could also be a part of something new in your life.

Best friends.

You had agreed to be his best friend from today onwards; the pendant around your neck serving as proof. Yeonjun finds his hand wandering over to his pocket, holding on to his old necklace.

Half of a star. He'd bought it a few years back. The necklace had a similar purpose with the one he was wearing now— meant to be worn separately by two different people. In his case, he had bought it as a whole and had decided to keep one half of it still in its case, stashed inside his closet. His reasons for purchasing it never really felt clear even to him but he also wouldn't call it an impulsive decision. Yeonjun liked to think that he'd be able to find a use for it in the future.

"Yeonjun." You call for his attention, pointing at the posters plastered on a random shop's wall. "It says that the annual carnival will be opening tonight. Wanna go?"

Yeonjun grins. Opportunities somehow kept showing up right in front of his doorstep. "Yeah, only if you want to though. Afterall, I'm only the tour guide for today."

"Shut up." You hold back a smile. "Have you been there before?"

Yeonjun repeats the question in his mind. As someone one would consider pretty popular, you'd expect him to be no stranger in hanging out at fun places like an annual carnival, but that's just it. Yeonjun had never visited that Carnival once ever since it opened. His friends had asked him to tag along but something about it just never seemed to make him want to.

"No." Yeonjun answers, scratching the back of his head. "If we end up going then this would be my first time too." The first time he'd actually wanted to go.

"I guess we're going then." You grin and Yeonjun finds himself smiling back. "It says here that the Carnival's just around the corner so it'd probably be okay if we just walked there."

"Yeah."

The two of you make your way to the Carnival. You still had a good amount of time left before it opened so a few quick stops at some stalls along the way didn't do any harm.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

In all honesty, Yeonjun didn't even know when and how he'd ended up holding your hand, laughing his heart off by the time you arrived at the entrance but it all just happened somehow. Was it the when your ice cream cone almost landed straight on his shoe earlier? Or when his hand nearly hit you square in the face when he noticed a bug flying towards you? It could've even been when a group of old ladies started hitting on him at the handbag boutique and all you did was stand there shaking, wanting to laugh your ass off.

No matter what the reason was, he liked this. Somehow, it just felt right.

The two of you pay for the tickets before heading inside. The place was larger than any of you had ever expected, cleaner too. People of all ages were enjoying their carnival experience to the fullest. Children were running around with their guardians following closely behind, couples and groups of friends chatting along and taking pictures— Yeonjun could swear he saw two old men arguing over who gets to take a picture with the mascot first.

"So, which ride do you wanna go on first?" You ask, turning to him.

"Well, how about that one." Yeonjun points at the viking and you feel yourself getting more and more excited.

"NICE—" Before Yeonjun knew it, you were dragging him around to every single ride at the carnival.

You liked to keep count of everytime Yeonjun freaked out while you went on the rides, and Yeonjun liked to do the same. Despite the thrill of being at a carnival keeping you hyped up, there were a few times when you had overestimated your tolerance with being thrown around. Yeonjun nearly puked twice: once at the twister, and a second time on the rollercoaster. Even you were almost a victim by the rollercoaster's loops.

Yeonjun had claimed he was an expert at navigating haunted house attractions, stating, "I've been watching horror movies all my life. Nothing scares me at this point, tbh." True enough, nothing scared Yeonjun except every single ominous decoration and jump scares the haunted house threw at him. You weren't too fond of horror yourself, but you ended up trying to be the brave one after Yeonjun basically clung to you half of the time. It didn't help whenever you freaked out since you ended up losing Yeonjun after he not so subtly abandons you at the slightest suspicious sound. It was a miracle you made it out in one piece.

"Yeah, so, uh, sorry about that." Yeonjun laughs it off the moment you two got out.

"Sure but you should know that I'm never gonna let you live it down." You tell him, smiling widely as you hold up the photos you received from one of the staff. "I got evidence."

Yeonjun snatches the photos from your hands. "Bold of you to assume these'll affect me— oh." It definitely did.

You watch as he slips the photos inside his jacket as if it wasn't obvious enough that he was trying to hide it from you. "Nice try but," You take out another batch of photos and wave it around. "Boom. Two copies."

"Wow, okay."

The two of you ended up laughing at each other before you suggest in trying out the stalls. They say time flies by fast when you're having fun and they couldn't be more right. There had been an unspoken competition between you and Yeonjun of who can win the most prizes and let's just say you weren't about to let yourself lose. By the time you got tired, you had a total of three plushies and a bunch of candy bars stuffed in your pockets and well, Yeonjun had the exact amount of prizes you had.

"Fine. It's a draw for now but only because I'm tired." Yeonjun holds the plushies tighter. "We should really get a bag for this. I wonder if we can get a huge plastic bag somewhere."

"Nah, we can just put em in here." You take off your back pack, opening it wide. "I'm sure it can fit all six of them. They're small enough." You were lucky that they did, finally leaving your hands free.

"Wait." Yeonjun pauses after putting the last of his plushies inside. "How can I be sure you won't just take my plushies for yourself after we leave? I'm pretty easy to distract so—"

"If you forget to get them back then I'll just hand them to you tomorrow at school. You go to HSU too, right?" You tell him.

"Yeah, but how will you contact me?"

"Obviously, we exchange numbers."

Yeonjun blinks. Of course that'd be the simplest solution but still. He'd been talking about staying as friends even after all this but the thought of exchanging numbers hadn't really crossed his mind. He takes out his phone and the two of you quickly added each other as contacts, somehow feeling a bit closer after the exchange.

"While we're at it—" Yeonjun pulls you in closer as he bends down. Only now that you've felt Yeonjun's warmth close to you have you noticed how cold it actually was outside . It takes you a few seconds to register that he wants to take a few selfies.

You bust out a smile and tried to go along with whatever weird faces and poses he did. "Send them to me later." You say after examining the photos. There's one where Yeonjun mimicked a kissing motion near your cheek, making you smile. Who would've expected you two were total strangers up until a few hours ago.

"Got room for one last ride?" Yeonjun asks as you return his phone.

"Yeah, sure. Which one?"

"Don't ask as if you don't know. I'm pretty sure you left this one out on purpose."

Perhaps unconsciously, you did. In every single movie that involved the two characters going to a carnival, for some reason, they always left the Ferris Wheel for last. It's not like you wanted something grand to happen when you ride it, but more like you just wanted to get a good view of the entire carnival before leaving. It seemed like the perfect final attraction.

Yeonjun notices how you've gone quiet and decided to hold your hand, pulling you along. "Let's go before the place closes."

"Okay." You look up at him, nodding.

· · ───────────── ·.☆.· ───────────── · ·

The Ferris Wheel ride wasn't all you had expected it to be. It looked pretty slow in the movies but right now? You were about to puke.

"Yeonjun, wait." You hold on to Yeonjun who was sitting opposite to you.

The Ferris Wheel was going too fast to your liking and you started feeling dizzy. Getting a good view of the carnival seemed impossible at this point and looking at your partner made you even more miserable.

Yeonjun was having the time of his life. He loved the feeling in his stomach whenever the ride went down, and the fact that you were lowkey suffering right in front of him made him laugh even harder.

The speed went on for a few more rounds until it finally slows down. Your heart and probably everything else stilled once the ride came to a complete stop just as your car reached the top. "Thank God. I felt like I was going to die."

"Well, you're safe for now." Yeonjun grins, leaning back in his heat. "You wanted to enjoy the view, right? We'll be stuck here for probably about a minute or two so enjoy it while it lasts."

"Yeah." You smile back, looking outside the window.

The winds were colder up there, reminding you of how warm it felt when you stood close to Yeonjun earlier. Yeonjun catches you warming yourself up with your hands and chuckles. He takes off his jacket and hands it over to you. "Here, put this on."

"Thanks." You quickly put his jacket on. Usually you'd go for the polite route and turn him down but if you were going to continue this friendship business then you weren't about to suffer in the cold when the dude's practically handing you a solution.

Yeonjun gives you a little smile before you continue to admire the view. Down there, the lights almost looked like a sea of stars. The music around the place didn't really help set the mood but somehow, the mixture of it along with the laughter and delightful screams of the other visitors made it feel right. After everything that happened today, you felt like it was the right decision to end the day with this breathtaking sight.

And Yeonjun couldn't agree more. The lights below reflected in your eyes in a way that made the atmosphere lighter. He could tell you were happy and right now, that seemed to be enough for him.

The Ferris Wheel began moving. Yeonjun snickers as he felt you grab for his hand, worried that the ride might throw you off once more, but it didn't. The way down was slow, allowing you to enjoy the ride in peace. Your pendant started to shine, reflecting the lights. It reminded him of everything that happened, from the moment you two met and agreed on a friendship that would last for only a day, up until now where he held your hand on the Ferris Wheel after deciding to be friends for real this time. The pendant became the sole proof of that friendship and Yeonjun couldn't help but wonder if the ones he bought a few years back would truly be of any use in the future. But what would it symbolize for? Who knows, he might just give you the other half.

Your car comes to a stop and the doors open. The realization that the day has officially come to an end left you feeling disappointed. Yeonjun squeezes your hand, bringing your attention to him. He gestures for the two of you to get up and you do, finally stepping back on the ground.

Both you and Yeonjun felt that the way back to the entrance was too fast. It really did seem like the two of you wouldn't see each other again despite the fact you went to the same university. The thought felt silly but that's just how the carnival experience gets to you.

"I guess this is it." Yeonjun speaks up first. "You live pretty far from here, right? I can take you home if you want."

"It's okay. My cousin lives nearby and I texted her earlier that I'd be staying over." You tell him, not wanting him to worry. "How about you? Will you be alright on your own?"

"Yeah, definitely." Yeonjun reassures, holding up his hands. "Oh, and by the way. Is it okay if I leave the plushies on your bag for now? I can't exactly carry them on the way back. If it's ok with you."

"Don't worry. You can just take them back tomorrow." You grin and Yeonjun smiles back. "Also, I'm keeping your jacket for now. I'll return it after I clean it up."

"I can work with that." He shouldn't feel this happy but he did. In a way, he was able to find an excuse to meet up with you tomorrow without things getting awkward. Maybe this friendship could work out afterall.

"Thanks for today. Honestly, this was the most fun I've had ever since I got here." You say, taking one last look at him.

I should be the one to thank you. "You know, I have a lot of things I wanna say to you right now but I think I'm gonna wait until I feel like it."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I'll text you later." Yeonjun gives you a quick pat on the shoulder before running off to the opposite direction. "See you at school! And don't forget to bring the kids!"

You raise a brow. Did he just refer to the plushies as his kids?

He felt dumb, running away from you. The longer he stayed, the more he had trouble leaving, which was new for him. It's been a while since he actually found someone he'd like to hang out with and he was having trouble controlling his excitement. Soon, you'd be able to visit each other's houses, hang out more freely, talk about your days as if it were nothing, and get to know each other more. Honestly speaking, Yeonjun couldn't wait for that day to come but I guess he'll just have to start with tomorrow.

#txt imagines #txt x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun

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starlit-serenade · 4 years

Text

Kiss and Make Up

🧡 Summary: Months after a heart-breaking break-up, your best friend Hyunjin begs you to attend a late night party at his home, where you see the last person you'd wanted to see--your ex-boyfriend, Bang Chan. (Requested)

🧡 Word Count: 2,421

🧡 Pairing: Christopher Bang/Bang Chan X Reader / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Producer!Bang Chan; Hwang Hyunjin (Hyunjin);

🧡 Rated: T for swearing / Warnings: swearing / Genre: GenderNeutral!Reader; Angst; Fluff (?);

You stare at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you look good enough or if you need to change any part of your appearance. You want to look attractive enough for the party, but not attractive enough that you'll attract any unwanted attention from men.

Not that you don't like men. You just don't want a boyfriend anytime soon. You just got out of a relationship about a month or so ago and you haven't fully recovered yet.

You sigh and redo your hair. Still, you just aren't satisfied with your appearance, but you promised your friend Hyunjin that you'd be there at 10, and it's already 9:30.

You arrive at Hyunjin's home only a few minutes after you'd planned to. The place is filled with dancing people that you recognize, but most that you don't know. It's Hyunjin's party and the only people here are friends of his, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends. You don't see him anywhere as you enter the house, but you expect him to be in the kitchen near the drinks, so that's where you start.

You see Hyunjin leaning against the counter with a red cup in his hand, and push through the crowd of people dancing to music to walk toward him. His long, blonde hair is tied back in a messy little ponytail, and he's dressed

"Oh, look who's finally here," he says. He passes you a cup, which you sip from slowly. "Don't drink too much. We both know your alcohol tolerance is shit."

"It's not that bad."

"Well, there was that one time where you got absolutely shitfaced and threw up, and Channie had to take you back to our dorm."

You glare at Hyunjin at the mention of your ex boyfriend, and he ducks his head apologetically.

"Sorry. I won't say his name."

"You had better not. Why did you want me to come here, anyway?"

"Because I didn't want you cooped up in your room forever, idiot. You need to get out."

There's a long moment of silence between you two, filled by the sound of loud music and people dancing and singing along or talking. You hadn't been to one of these parties in a long time, mostly because you were afraid you were going to run into Bang Chan, a frequent party-goer. But Hyunjin had texted you last night, saying he wanted you here.

You start tapping your foot to the music as you look over the people dancing in the living room. You think, for a moment, that you see a familiar form drift through the crowd and tense up.

"What?" Hyunjin asks, frowning at you from the side.

"I thought I saw . . ."

Chan emerges from the crowd again, wearing a black cap, and leather jacket over a black T-shirt and black jeans. He looks around before his eyes fall on you.

"Fuck," you mutter, lowering your head, hoping that he didn't recognize you. You turn your head and stare, wide-eyed, at Hyunjin, who has his hands up in surrender. "Did you know he was coming? Is that why you asked me here?"

"Who?" he asks.

You glare at him accusingly. "Bang Chan," you hiss.

"Well Y/N, I just . . . he asked me to let you know if you were going to be here, because he wanted to fix things with you and--"

"Fuck off," you mutter.

"Y/N, he wants to fix things. He loves you."

"Whatever." You turn around and march past Hyunjin and pour yourself some more alcohol. Fuck it.

You broke up with Bang Chan a few months ago. Not because any of you did anything to each other, specifically. Neither of you hurt each other physically or insulted each other. After just over a year of dating, you knew you had loved him. But that didn't mean the relationship was perfect.

Bang Chan loved you too. You knew that. But he was often too busy to show it. He was also a hard worker, dedicated to his job. That meant that he was rarely home, and when he was, he was always working or too tired to give you enough attention. You had once tried to tell him that you needed more attention, but he waved you off. You eventually realized that you couldn't live like this, feeling alone, and broke it off with him. You loved him, but you couldn't stay in the relationship if you were going to feel isolated. It broke your heart.

You've spent the past few months recovering from the pain of missing him, intentionally avoiding any place you might see Bang Chan. It didn't help that your friend Hyunjin was friends with Bang Chan.

You take another sip of the drink in your hand. You've been trying so hard to get over Bang Chan, and you know that seeing him will undo all of that work. Might as well drink some more so you can survive the rest of the night after seeing him.

Halfway through your third cup, someone taps your shoulder. You turn, and unsurprisingly, it's Bamg Chan. He looks really good. He's removed his baseball hat, so you can see that he dyed his hair back to black sometime since you broke up with him.

"Hey Y/N," he says, looking you up and down. "Can we talk?"

Fuck.

You're halfway through your third cup of whatever-it-was, but you're still not drunk enough for this. You're drunk enough to make stupid decisions, but you're not drunk enough to be unaware of them. Every stupid thing you may or may not do, you'll remember clearly.

"Sure," you say, facing him and leaning your weight against the edge of the table. "What do you want?" you ask somewhat drunkenly.

God, that sounded lame.

"I just wanted to apologize," he says. "I was thinking back to our last conversation."

You can feel your head is dizzy, but you shake your head and ignore it. Chan seems too focused on his speaking to notice.

"I realize that I was being a real dick. I wasn't listening to you back then. I wasn't giving you enough attention. I was too absorbed in my work, and I didn't see it then. I was too obsessed with my--"

You don't know what comes over you. You just want him to shut up and stop talking. You grab the car of his stupid leather jacket and kiss him. It certainly shuts him up.

He's frozen for a moment, before he places his hands on your waist and starts kissing you back. You hum and your fingers wind into his hair, pulling him closer. He tastes so familiar.

His fingers squeeze your hip gently. That brings you back to reality.

Why am I kissing him? We broke up.

You pull away from him, letting go of his jacket, your hand covering your mouth in shock. Your head hurts. You don't know if it was drunk you or normal you who kissed Chan. You're sober enough to know that that was stupid, though. Chan doesn't know that, though. He could think you're just drunk out of your mind, right?

You push past him and can hear him calling your name. Calling for you to come back. You need to get out of here.

You wake up the morning after, feeling like absolute shit. Your hair is a mess. You're tired, from seeing Bang Chan at last night's party. But it's the weekend and you have no plans.

Your phone has several messages from Hyunjin, asking if you're okay and got home safe, but you're too emotionally exhausted to respond.

After sitting in bed, thinking about how you kissed your ex boyfriend Bang Chan, you decide to take a refreshing shower.

After you finish your shower, you wipe yourself off in your towel. As you stand in the mirror, your towel wrapped around your body, your phone rings and, to your horror, it's Bang Chan. You'd deleted your number from his phone during your last argument, and his from yours. He doesn't have your number memorized, you know that. So how can he have called you?

You pick up.

"How did you get my number, Christopher?" you say before he can speak. You rarely call him Christopher. Usually, it's Chris or Chan or Channie. It's only Christopher when you're mad, and you've been mad at him for months.

He pauses. "A friend we both have."

You groan. "I'm going to kill Hyunjin."

"Y/N, I have a request," Chan says on the other end of the phone. You groan.

"I can't guarantee I'll say yes, but just say it."

He takes a deep breath. "Can we meet for breakfast? I want to just talk."

You know you should decline for your own sanity. But deep down, you miss Chan. You miss his kisses, his hugs. You miss him.

"Alright," you say, your voice coming out much softer than you intended.

"Can we meet at our breakfast place? I mean--it's not our breakfast place anymore. But can we meet there?"

You tense. "Okay."

"Thank you."

You hang up and finish up getting ready for the day. Halfway through dressing yourself, you realize you're wearing one of your nicest shirts, as if you're dressing up for a nice party. You tell yourself you're not dressing up for Chan, but deep down you know you are.

You head to the coffee shop you and Chan used to go to for regular dates. It was a great place to focus on work and school. As you walk in, you see Chan sitting at your usual table. He waves you over and you sit across from him anxiously. The table already has your usual breakfast and drink. He remembered it. Your heart melts. You'd thought he didn't care enough to remember, but apparently he did remember.

"Hey . . ." he says, smiling nervously, fidgeting with his fingers on the table.

"Hi." You look up at him. He's smiling sadly at you, like you're something he wants so dearly, but just out of reach. Perhaps that's how you felt before. You had wanted to be his, but you never felt like you were when he would only focus on his work instead of you. Realizing there was no point in trying to get his attention, despite him already being your boyfriend, you gave up.

"So . . . last night at the party."

You freeze up. "I was drunk."

"I know," he says. "But you know what they say. Drunk words and actions are sober thoughts."

You glare at him. "Did you call me to breakfast just to rub it in my face that I miss you and kissed you? Why did you call me here, Christopher?"

"You miss me?" he asks, eyebrow raised cockily, as if he couldn't tell from how you two made out last night.

"Christopher!"

"Sorry," he says, ducking his head. "So how have you been?"

"I've been alright," you say. His question feels forced, like an awkward transition, but you answer anyway. "How has producing been going for you?"

Chan winces. "It's been going alright. After we . . . after you left, I didn't sleep for a few days. I didn't want to go home because I didn't want to come home to an empty apartment. Then when I finally went home, it finally hit me that you were gone. I couldn't produce anything for weeks. Changbin and Jisung were worried."

You nod. "I'm sorry that I took you away from your work by just not being there."

"No," he says, shaking your head. "It was good. It gave me time to think. About us. About my role in the break up."

"I'm glad."

"Y/N," Chan says suddenly. You look up at him, and he's staring at you. "I was saying it last night--before you kissed me--but I understand, now, what I couldn't all those months ago. I wasn't giving you enough attention. I was too obsessed with my work to see that I was neglecting you. I loved you, I love you, and I didn't show that enough. I'm so, so sorry. I want to ask you if I can have one more chance. I don't deserve it, but please. If you give me this chance, I promise I'll be better. I've toned it down with my work. I will listen to you."

You stare at him.

Honestly, you miss him. You think back to your relationship with Chan. You loved him. You still love him. You never stopped. But near the end of your relationship, you felt so alone. It felt one sided. You were in a relationship with Bang Chan, and Bang Chan was in a relationship with his work.

But looking at him now, you know he's grown, and you're sure he's changed. It's not like he meant to hurt you. He was just being stupid and unaware. Now he's very aware of his mistakes, and has changed a lot.

You look down at the food and drink that Chan ordered for you. He remembered your tastes, what you like, your favorites. You'd thought he wouldn't remember things like that. But he did. Perhaps . . .

"Okay," you say softly. Chan looks up at you, eyes wide in surprise.

"Really?"

You smile and nod. "Yes. One more chance."

His smile is bright and wide, and he grabs your hand from across the table. You feel warm inside. "Thank you, Y/N. I promise I won't disappoint you."

You feel yourself smiling. Bang Chan's smile is something you've missed seeing, and now that he's smiling at you again, months after your breakup, you feel so happy.

"I know." You squeeze his hands gently.

"So . . ." Chan looks around anxiously. "Do you have any plans after this?"

You shake your head, smiling.

"Do you want to spend the rest of the day with me?"

You nod. "I'd like that."

#stray kids #bang chan #christopher bang #bang chan fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #op #text #bang chan x reader #myfic

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ariahearthockey · 5 years

Text

Love Me, If You Will - Chapter 3

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

_/_/_/_/

Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin

Tags: 2017 NHL Playoffs, Concussion, Memory Loss, Medical Inaccuracies, Unexplained Medical Conditions, Alternate Reality, Time Travel (sort of), Pining, Fluff, Porn With Feelings, Happy Ending (sort of)

Soundtrack: Dancing On My Own - Calum Scott

_/_/_/_/

Chapter 3

He feels odd walking down the familiar hallway towards the locker room in the PPG Paint Arena. Everything looks as it should be and yet, it feels somewhat difference. He has just finished a brief chat with Sully in his office, relaying the good news after his follow-up check-up with the team doctor. As expected, Dr Vyas has cleared him to play in game five but not before he is reminded to keep a look out for any more symptoms. He has decided not to enclose his issue with his messed-up memory, and it is arguably the most conflicted he has ever felt. It feels a lot like a betrayal of trust to the management, but with the playoff on the line, too much is at risk.

On the drive from their house to the rink, he has some time to think about the matter on hand and he has decided not to let anyone know other than himself and Geno. He is still shaken about it for sure, but years of practice has allowed him to compartmentalise his fear and do what needs to be done. And what he needs is for this to not interfere with his chance to go for the Stanley Cup with his team.

It took him more than half an hour in the staffs' parking lot to convince Geno. Geno has looked so offended when he has first suggested to keep it a secret. Geno was absolutely appalled and almost recruited Brisson to talk some sense into him until he begs Geno not to. He talked to Geno with as much sincerity as he could muster, reasoning with Geno that there would not be a quick fix to his condition. What if Dr. Vyas decided to pull him out for the rest of the playoff? What good will that do to the team?

And Geno had been so angry that he said to hell with the playoff because everything else pales in comparison to Sidney's health. Sidney would have been really touched by that, that Geno is genuinely scared for his sake. If only he wasn't a selfish bastard.

He pried further into Geno's weakness and used it to his advantage. He pleaded Geno to understand his desire to keep playing, telling him how much it would mean for him if he could raise the cup over his head again, how happy it would make him if they could kiss the cup again and bring it home together. And that if his memory never comes back, then at least he could have this, and they could build new ones together. It was a cheap shot, borderline manipulative to be taking advantage of Geno's kindness like that, but he was desperate, and it did get him what he wanted. Geno's reluctance was torn down bits by bits, and finally crumbled down when Sidney promised to come clean right away when he feels any worse.

So, as of right now, the secret is safe.

In a moment of honesty, he is willing to admit that he has never been as shaken as he has. He is somehow thrust in the center on an entirely different life that he knows nothing of. He has a husband and a beautiful, doting 3-year old daughter. Sofya, the child who is rightfully theirs through surrogacy. He is still not done digesting the fact that his own sister has volunteered to donate her egg and carry the child to term. It feels all too weird at first, but when he sees the picture of his—their daughter—on Geno's phone, he has never been more thankful. Dressed in tiny hockey gears, bright smile on her face, and clutching a giant penguin plushie in her tiny arms, she is just a ball of sunshine that makes him want to weep. A little bit of Geno and a little bit of him, she is just the perfect little miracle that melts his heart through and through.

And then he wonders to himself, how could I have forgotten my own child, as sweet and as beautiful as her? And all that has accomplished is making him dispose of any doubt he has for keeping his condition under wraps. This whole thing about not remembering is messing with him quite a lot. He can't seem to shake off the gnawing feelings his guts. It grows stronger with more stones being turned, and he can't ignore that something is disproportionately wrong with him. He thinks that it is his body trying to tell him something, that maybe his time as a hockey player is dated. That thought leaves him petrified and that further pushes him to make the most out of whatever time he still has.

He doesn't know what to expect when he pushes the door into the locker room. It smells just as it should be right after every practice session and just as loud too, maybe even louder. The picture of twenty over something men in all states of undress is a comfortable norm to him and for brief moment, he feels at home for the first time since he woke up. He doesn't know why but he comes in, prepared to feel somewhat out of place, but the warm greetings and lame chirps from his teammates give him a sense of familiarity he didn't know he craves until now. It calms him.

Geno is already out of his gear—thankfully with his undershirt still on—when he makes a beeline over to Sidney. He ducks down to give Sidney a chaste kiss on the mouth and hears some of the guys in the room hollering at them to get a room or something along that line and Geno chirping back. He doesn't know what to make of that little display of affection, nor he has the time to, because his mind is still reeling with it as he is being escorted back to Geno's stall. It isn't much, just a brief touching of lips on lips but it is enough to keep him stunned for a bit. The guys don't seem to bat an eye to see their captain and their alternate kiss, which tells him that it may be something of a frequent occurance.

Oh, yes. Of course it does. He just remembered that he and Geno have been married for five fucking years. They are practically one of the old married couples now.

"Sid, talk with Sully okay?" Geno asks and he almost can't hear it when the younger guys throw a couple more dirty chirps their way that comprises of their sex life. Sidney blushes and nods at Geno as a respond before they are once again interrupted, this time by Cully who comes by and gives his back a couple of friendly pats.

"Hey, babe. Good to have you back in one piece. You scared the hell out of a lot of us when you stayed down on the ice, especially your protective Russian bear over here."

"It's true, I can attest to that." Chimes Phil who looks like he has just came out of the shower judging by how his hair matted on his forehead. "You know, this guy here looked about to hurl when you went down and it took three of us to physically stop him from going over to make Niskanen pay."

Sidney chuckles when Geno grumbles disapprovingly at the two babble mouths and to his surprise, he finds Grumpy Geno kind of adorable. "Well, it's really just bad luck that he got me that way. It's just how it is, right? I don't think it was on purpose or anything. It's just ill-timed, is all. I think he left me several texts, probably apologising, but I haven't check them out yet, so."

"Ill-timed my ass! More like perfectly timed to me, man. If he hits any harder, who knows if it's gonna end it for you right there and then, huh? I don't know about you guys, man, but Flower definitely agrees with me, right Flower?"

"Huh?" Flower looks up from his lap where his helmet is on, and takes a few moments looking back and forth between Kuni and Sidney to catch on to what is being asked of him. He tosses a roll of tape onto the bench and smooths his long fringe away from his eyes. "Oh, yeah. For sure, man. Sid, so glad you're okay. What Nisky did was so not cool and I'm gonna make sure he knows that we're very upset with him."

Sidney frowns because Flower is usually not much of an instigator but he must say, he is curious to see what Flower would do to show his dissatisfaction. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. I'm sorry for making you guys worry about me. But hey—it's game four. You guys are gonna kill it tonight, eh?"

"Hell yeah, baby!"

"You bet your gigantic ass we will!"

"We're gonna take this game for you, man!"

"For Sid!"

"Watch and learn, boys. I'm gonna make Ovi cry like a baby tonight."

To say that Sidney is touched by the support from his teammates is an understatement, especially when Horny make his way over without a word and gives him a tight, bone-crushing hug. It lasts longer than any ordinary locker room hugs should be, and probably longer than Geno has liked because it has him practically prying Horny's arms away to end it. When they part, Sidney thinks he caught a glimpse of Horny's watery eyes before he heads out of the locker room. At that moment, he thinks himself as the most privileged guy to be surrounded by these group of good people and he is grateful.

He stays in the room while he waits for Geno to come back. Geno is with Dana in the equipment room, sorting out some issue Geno has on his pair of new skates. Some of the rookies come to him and they talk for a bit, mostly asking how he is doing and talking about how to improve their plays. Shearsy—who is also out for concussion—sits quietly beside him and listens when he comments about Jake's wrist shots.

It is nice to be having these talks with the boys. It makes him feel like he is contributing something to the team, as much as it distracts him from searching for answers that never seem to be there. For what it is worth, apart from being called Mrs Malkin every five minutes or so—all in good fun, of course—the team is still more or less the same. They are still the same driven group and he wants nothing more than to help them achieve their best game, regardless if he is playing or not.

Optimistically, everything will return to normal once he regains his lost memories. But realistically, the brain is quite a fickle thing and God knows what will happen to him in the near future, if his health will deteriorate drastically at some point. Whichever way his health leads him to, he wants to be able to look himself in the mirror and says that he has done everything he can to help his team be the better team.

"Okay, rookies. Time's up. I'm take husband back now."

"Come on, Geno. Don't hog Sid all to yourself, man."

"I'm hog because I'm put ring on it. Now fuck off, Olli."

Geno squeezes himself into the space between Olli and Sidney and pushes Olli's blonde head away. Olli pushes back playfully and it makes Geno loses his balance a little, causing him to land onto Sidney's lap. Sidney catches a lapful of Geno and his hands flies up to Geno's waist on instinct, just as Geno wraps his arms around Sidney's shoulders. He has to bite back a moan when Geno moves to sits himself more comfortable and—probably not deliberately—grinding onto his crotch. He can't help the blush that rises when the rookies give them some horrified scandalous looks.

"Oh, come on. Really? Stop with the foreplay, dude. You know we can't unsee this, right?"

"Don't be baby. You see worse." Geno snarks at Jake as he make a show to tease the watchful eyes around them by tracing his hand slowly down the line of Sidney's spine. Sidney can't help the shiver that wrecks through his body and hides his profile behind of Geno, shielding his blush that is unmistakably colouring his cheeks.

"Ugh, don't remind me. I'm still trying to bleach that image of your naked ass out of my brain."

"Hey, is good ass." Geno counters and defends his ass further when the rookies shakes their head in disbelief. "You not believe me? Wait, I'm show—"

"Yeah, okay. I think we're just gonna go now and leave you two to it. And Sidney, try not to drain too much out of Geno, okay? We kinda need him tonight? Alright. Good talk, team. Dismiss!"

It is amusing to see how fast the rookies can disperse at the threat of seeing Geno's ass. Just in a few minutes time, Sidney finds himself alone with Geno in the room, with Geno still perched comfortably on his lap. He is in no hurry to get Geno off, and he will never admit it to Geno, but he is starting to lose feelings in his legs.

"Sorry for long wait. I'm make sure Dana do job."

Sidney glances up and stunned to have Geno's face just inches away from his. "It's fine, G. New skates, I know how it is."

"Yes. Dana say Sid worse than me."

Sidney shoves him away with a firm push and laughs a little guiltily when Geno lands on the carpeted floor with a thud.

"Hey, why Sid push me? What I'm say?" Geno asks as Sidney straightens his suit and heading for the door.

"Yeah, keep playing dumb, Geno. Come on, I'm hungry. Hurry up or I'm leaving without you." He shouts over his shoulder just as the door closes, and hears Geno chuckling lightly on the other side of the door.

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#sidgeno #fanfiction #Love Me If You Will #ariahearthockeywrites #men's hockey rpf

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

I hear two Atlanta Police Officers with missing vehicles called the Mayor and apologized to her for thinking of only themselves, admitted they were afraid that if they were in the same situation they would been fired as the other two in the Rayshard Brooks case and they couldn't allow that to happen to,themselves and the community so they wanted to show what would happen if it did because like me they all saw it as a justified homocide, a honorable weapon's discharge.

But after reading what i wrote last night. They fully regrret their decision and would like to have a meeting with her today, the entire 25 that stayed home for 3 days and they will all drive up to see her, in their personal cars of course.

Of course they got her mussing her mascara and all. Weeping she is. Don't mean she's weak. Just means she knows love. And she knows how evil attacks it and makes love so painful.

... ...

I mean I'm real surprised at Atlanta. I never had any problems with them they was always "The Next New Orleans" i called them.

Always just witchy with it. Good and a skip ahead.

So besides my anger at the situation created...

Look. I come straight outta the 90s.

Back then... Man. Our history been lost in 30 years. Our soul soul soul filled history. Its gone. It ain't there.

Back in the 90s we had about a 15 year break. From the protests from Vietnam War. Love not War Protests. We had them nice little 1950s with "Hello Technology: introduction to the TV" ONWARD to the "60s Hippies. Make love not War" taking it right onto the 70s which came back with the Civil Rights

So our 90s. Y'all they were the most beautiful. They were the combo of the 60s and 70s.

The riots and protests being taught to me and we made it big as we could with all the best parts of being a Human Rights Activist with brand new only 1990s fluorescent neon dripped could bring in.

That was all lost. Its all gone.

But the fight. The rights. THE TRUTH we went all 1950s and stayed in and raised our kids right. People wanna say shit about the Millennials. But we spoke truth. We spoke from our heart and we let them find,the truth as safe as possible and form their own opinions based on truth alone.

So now people wanna beat our kids. People i went to high school with they got high school graduates. Mine will be 17 this August. Real honest to God birthday and age.

Those are my babies. Our babies. They are our future. In 50 years they're gonna be like old man Bernie Sanders. 70 years old bent over fighting because we're gonna be near dead at 90 and more.

And people neglect and beat and ...

Man Our kids got it bad enough already. Simply because THEY KNOW THE TRUTH.

And man we got to protect them. Protect their hearts. Their minds. Their souls.

And they getting allllllll this stress. Put on them. Stress that is simply avoided.

By one dancing in the streets.

By 15 officers stating their badge numbers.

By the police owning up to who they are and why they exist.

Don't they want peace? Used to be they were called Peace Keeping Officers.

Now they called Lice Officers. Coming in on Native American Reservations claiming unwashed hair bread bugs. Let me tell you something. My daughter and I got lice a while back.. Like 8 years. The only thing that killed them was coating our hair in oil

Lice breath through holes in their exobody. So the oil makes them suffocate to death and die. Furthermore people whom smoke reject lice more frequently than those that don't. It takes me 3 months longer to get lice than a non smoker.

Peace pipe anyone?

So historically police aren't loved. They aren't wanted.

Being a police or military. It becomes a color of our skin. I'll post a tattoo that isn't finished being colored or lined. It's not done. I'll show you we can balance it.

Get out of your comfort zone. Step out of your skin.

We can't stop being black. We can't stop being what drives us to be police.

But we can control it.

"BURN ALL THEIR FUCKING CARS" demanded the international head of the CIA.

"No ma'am. This is what we did" they didn't tell me No before. They just did it. Because they knew it was better. They knew it would cause all 25 of y'all to have to stand up and say "my car is missing. This is how i feel. I do/don't want it back"

Where yall can't pretend what y'all did didn't matter and just get up and go to work the next day. All sneak in and get back to business.

No. You got a fucking problem. You forcing others to take on your load, Zone 5.

Were not walking away and being all its fine what ever. You got a problem. We need to tackle it in a for real state.

Foooorrrrr Reeeaaaalllll state.

You got a problem in your mind? Those become tangible. They aren't floating thoughts. They are what makes us do what we do.

Make it concrete. Take away their cars.

I ain't saying the charges will be dropped. That's all a whole other issue. I don't work in the justice system. Court. Law. I tell you how to win in court. But i ain't about telling some DA how to shove it. I just sue them. When its courts. I fight their game. With paperwork and all that shit. So like i said that's not on me to say the charges will be dropped.

When it's a basketball game you use a ball and circle to drop the ball in.

Use proper tools

Atlanta PD could and should said "alright let's picket the DA. Lets go in uniform. Leave our weapons in the car. Unbutton our shirts. Put red paint on our foreheads to show where they're hurting us. Show them the DA now made us defense less and stripped"

Half hour. 10 minutes. 2 hours. Don't matter. As long as you make that statement.

NYPD did that.

Sure i can ask Tree, tree why ain't you posted that? Taught them?

But why didn't NYPD pull out thier hands and say NBC, FOX. Where's them videos of what we use to do and so we can stop and make this shit right in the streets?

Thata all i did. That's all im doing now. Yeah I'm,the most brilliant and all

But the last since November i been telling y'all "shake them tail feathers"

How is Gary Trump's brother going into human trafficking for 24 years to be found by me. Then murdered by his brother that took his name and lied about who he was? And his brother didn't care. He said "ill go by Gary. It don't matter. Hes worked hard under my name"

How is the ACTUAL Donald Trump not allowed to be in a Black Lives Matter movement? How come no one is shaking their tail feathers to a man killed by the government for greed and white power?

The faux Donald Trump that is our impeached President is a racist.

So why isn't his brother being named? Black Lives Matter.

One person says "Let's Shake Our Tail Feathers".

Dont matter if you believe me. Its the movement. Quite literally.

Its confusing and alive and can make us all sick. It is its own plague. "Shake ya tail feathers" it's a mental plague if you refuse truth.

Regardless how i named it. I still taught it and spoke it. And led y'all to dance it.

Bye bye stress. Bye bye human trafficking.

Bye bye inequality.

Instead it's crazy

It was already planned to be crazy. Burning down buildings calling them Liberty Torches.

Civil Rights . Civil Liberties . take No Justice/Fairness and make it a sight to behold.

Is it fair to me financially to burn down my own economicially profiting legally businesses to make a Park and Garden where you can get fresh and,free vegetables and fruit for life? HELL FUCKING NO.

I got to pay security and taxes and i don't get a single domestic dime in return.

Kids go play on my slides and swings and wear them out having too much dam fun. Then i gotta spend More Money to make sure i am making sure they even get a single second to know what fun is.

I spent my whole life working. Every dam day.

One day I went out and I was 18 years old and i heard laughter. And i didn't know what it was. What made people laugh? How could people even be happy? Or want to laugh?

I was 18 years old. Didn't under stand a human thing.

And it just kept going and going and going. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to do whatever it took. And I didn't know why. Because i got my car keys out and opened my car door the second time that day. This time to make it stop. I put my car key between my fingers. Next thing i knew, I was sitting back down. And starting the car. Obviously my mom knew I was crazy with worry. And lost my mind. Shoved my ass back in the car and said "no you're just gonna leave and leave those innocent people alone"

I was so angry and bitter. And now my life is even worse.

If I couldn't attack them people. No one else can attack innocent people in public.

I don't care how fucked up you are. YOU CAN'T ATTACK SOMEONE FOR THEIR FREEDOMS.

Laughter. Black Lives Matter. Blue lives MATTER. All lives MATTER.

Some ignorant fool was arguing with a store clerk saying how her Black Lives Matter sign offended him

Watch me, #BLM #BLM ONE OF THOSE IS BLACK. ONE OF THOSE IS BLUE. TOGETHER WE ARE BRUISED BLACK AND BLUE.

Why can't y'all see and accept that?

We can't we be one. One truth.

One life to live

I can't live as Cleopatra or anyone of my past lives. I can't even live the life I led in the 90s. I can't even walk

We have one life to live and this is it.

So do we kill each other? Or do we protect each other?

Why aren't we being One?

When you're alone you can think of only you. You realize how important you are. We all need alone time.

When im with you i can only think about how important you are.

There isn't enough room in my brain to say how important we both are at the same time unless we do and think and act the same way all day long. Even for twins and clones its impossible.

So in my brain and in yours. You can only think about how much ONE life matters at a time.

ONLY ONE LIFE IN THIS WORLD MATTERS. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!

We. Our. Us. You can't stop a great combination.

Power and love = unified. Unity. United.

Watch me, #BLM #BLM ONE OF THOSE IS BLACK. ONE OF THOSE IS BLUE. TOGETHER WE ARE BRUISED BLACK AND BLUE.

Stop the pain. Hold our hands. Let the love flow. Let the Heart speak until it sings.

So yesterday old Blackfeet and Regina didn't see each other for the DUMBEST thing. She said "oh baby ill move in the nursing home with you"

He says something all "nonsense that's dumb shut up" all Grumpy Bear.

I don't even want to be with you.

So i talked to Michael about their unique situation.

He could had said "I'm well enough to move into a regular home with you. We don't need the nursing home. I moved to (US state) to be with you. To be close to you because you mean more to Me than Anything in the world. And you deserve a big ole castle. Because i love you and we gotta do all this best and right. No nursing home. We got another 50 years plus i wanna be doing you on the kitchen table and not here. All I can smell is stinky old man diapers from the neighbor"

And she could said had he continued the fight "oh idk what I'm saying I've never even seen the nursing home. Do you mind i come visit you there? Id really like that"

It would taken ONE. Only one to stop their ninny war.

And they would been holding each other. With love.

Instead of living in Hell.

So, now what happened was we put it all on old dad. Because hes the Black Beethoven who can suddenly sing a ballad of symphony in the midst of telling some real bad history truth.

Then moments later Regina said "well i could said something different, too".

It takes two to tango.

So I challenge y'all to punch inequality in the face. BLM. there is no difference between.

Black. Blue. Red. Purple. Yellow. Green. All bruises.

Challenge each other. Black and blue.

Force it. There is no difference and it must be seen.

Chant it. Turn on the "Boombox" and dance together. Dance if some won't. But do it in their face.

Laugh. Be happy. In their face.

If they're bitter like an 18 year old me and don't have a Angel Mommy to bust their ass back down into a sitting position. Someone will beat the shit out of them. Someone will stop them and i Will go after them and send you services for legal and medical. Free.

Acknowledge.

You are hurt. I am hurt.

Lets Live. Lets be happy.

Lets try. Trying makes perfect.

"MOVE BACK"

"TAKE THAT FIRST STEP"

"MOVE BACK"

"SEE WE ARE HURT SAME AS YOU" point out the ones that have fear. The ones that try to intimidate. -- The I Can See You -- let them scream in your face youre nothing but a piece of shit. And yell back they're someone inside a police uniform. And you can see it.

Beat their asses like fucking Care Bears.

Teach you a little photography. 1. Dirty lens. Dry skin. 2. Lotions the skin. Hannibal lectur. 3. Cleans the lens. 4 & 5 close up with flash. 6&7 close up without flash.

After meeting some kids in college. Native Americans from tribes near Gallup. Very very. Very Racist.

I began to question my life long believe of how I could live with being a military based person. And being an Native American.

I didn't know. I just knew i could and it wasn't fair to me to destroy the very being of me. Simply because it don't make sense without actual factual historical documents.

Remember Oregon Trail was First. That made Atlas.

Then down the coast to find gold. So NM DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT NO FUCKING TRAIL OF TEARS SO GET OUT MY FACE.

And so my owl... Its every thing. I didn't design it normal. It has wings that are out stretched yes.

But it has a secomd pair of wings. Which are pins from the United States Coast Guard. Those wings are like hands. To do things close by to the body.

Its slightly designed after a Hindu God. She has 6 arms.

Here the wings are keeping the body warm and safe and sound.

How could myself own an owl to represent my secret past of S.Leigh if it can't have hands to represent both my heart and mind?

There figlirliee on the head. That's not for me. Its because I think about you. The mass population of Earth.

I need more simply than what the Earth can provide in the reality of which exists on Earth.

There's an hour glass of water on it's side, traveling... My baby bird is flying with an hour glass.

If you look. You'll see a woman under and between the two shields. And she has "duck lips"

For the real "Not Gary Donald Trump"

Her lips are actually a heart. But they look off..

A rose each sits above the shields. A diamond in the midst of the tail feathers.

No piece

No area.

Is just a feather. A stroke of color.

Each is an item. There's no nothing. It is all something

The military did not just beat us and we took it as Muscogee Creek Nation. We built an Atlas. Recivejed the City of Atlantis -- the Spain sent supplies to help us for years. All the way from Florida.

There was Something. It all wasn't nothing

Or for nothing. Everyone looks for the truth. Looks for the Lost City of Atlantis and i am the one who sunk it. Because I am the Goddess.

The diamond has a purple eye. Diamonds are the hardest and toughest known substance.

Well i know my mind is gonna cut you and rip you apart from what I've seen. So my eyes are like diamonds. My mind

Our tounges are diamonds. We can slash each other apart.

Or we can acknowledge the riches we have.

My Ultimate Challenge is for the police to create a barricade when necessary. No weapons in hand. Hands on the top of their heads and chant BLM Bruises are the same.

We know black bruises hurt the worst, the same level as red.

Then purple. Then blue. Green and yellow rarely do.

So please fight blindness and inequality with me.

And please post it on the national news and international news. So that we know as a world we all fight together

Whether it's in the couches or in the streets.

Thank you for trying.

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bruiserelliot · 7 years

Conversation

A voltron Royalty! Au Prompt

This is a conversation between Keith Kogane and yourself, Prince!Lance.

Prince!Lance: Lance sat in the courtyard, lazily swinging a sword about while he watched the knights practice. Occasionally he'd make note of a flaw and jot it down, so he wouldn't make a mistake if he ever had to fight.

Keith Kogane: "Your majesty? What are you doing out here? You know it's not safe to be outside with all of the threats Zarkon has been making." Keith said walking up behind Lance, watching the Prince's sword move swiftly through the air.

Prince!Lance: Lance looked up at the sound of Keith's voice."I wanted to watch. It's too hot inside." He replied, rolling his eyes. These days everyone was ultra protective of him. Keith was at least more lenient than the others. Most of the time anyway.

Keith Kogane: Keith shrugged "I suppose it is hot inside. Mind if I watch with you?" Keith asked hesitantly. He felt bad for Lance, always being locked up in the castle. They treated him like a bird that would fly away if it got out of its cage. "I mean...if you would like, I can go back inside. I don't want to bother you." Keith said quickly.

Prince!Lance: Lance smiled."No, please, stay." He replied, shuffling over and patting the spot beside him. The knights in front of him had yet to say anything. Though Shiro, the head knight, was rather pleased that his younger brother and the prince got along as well as they did.(Lance is so polite in this au, it's kind of funny)

Keith Kogane: Keith nodded and sat next to Lance, making sure not to get too close in case he made the prince uncomfortable. "Why do you like watching the knights so much? This is the fifth time I've found you out here." Keith questioned, watching his older brother train with the rest of the knights. Keith glanced at Lance out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

Prince!Lance: Lance looked back at the nights."Well, honestly for learning purposes. Everyone thinks I'm this sort of dainty little prince who can't defend himself. And since Dad refuses to let me actually learn how to fight properly, I just come out and observe really." He put his sword on his lap."This is honestly more for decoration than actual use."

Keith Kogane: Keith smiled. "Prince Lance. I think it's...cool that you come out here and watch to learn. It shows dedication, and I know your not a 'dainty little prince' but your father doesn't want you to get hurt. I...I don't want you to get hurt either. So, please don't do something stupid, and be careful with your sword. It's pointy." Keith said with a small smirk at the end as he teased the prince. He so badly wanted to help Lance learn to fight but he knew his orders from the king.

Prince!Lance: (Sorry, I was afk) Lance blushed at Keith's words. Though at the end he chuckled."Yeah, I, uh, I guess so." He put the sword down."...I...I don't want to see you get hurt either. I mean, with all that you've already been through, with Zarkon and all, not to mention Shiro, it's kind of easy to worry about you Keith." He said. What he didn't know was that Pidge and Hunk were watching the two of them from Pidge's room, both smiling and wishing they had a way to document this.

Keith Kogane: Keith looked down at his lap and shrugged. "I don't need anyone to worry about me. I can worry about myself. You're a prince, you shouldn't worry about some lowlife like me." Keith said taking a deep breath and looking back up towards Shiro and the rest of the knights.

Prince!Lance: Lance frowned at that."Lowlife? Keith, you do realize where we are right now, right? And the fact that you've literally almost defeated Zarkon, which even Alfor himself couldn't do. And of course I'm gonna worry about you, I worry about all my friends." Lance protested.

Keith Kogane: Friends. Keith hated that word, especially when it comes from Lance. "Right. Well, I think I hear...Hunk? calling for me. If you need anything your majesty, you know where I usually am." Keith muttered, standing up. He nodded at Lance before his shoulders sagged and he began to walk away.

Prince!Lance: Lance blinked. Had he said something wrong? He frowned at that, and sighed. He started drawing in the dirt with his sword, trying to forget the look on Keith's face. Meanwhile, Pidge and Hunk were rushing to meet Keith. The Chef and the princess had been shipping Keith and Lance ever since the long haired boy had been assigned to the prince."What are you doing?!" Hunk stood in front of Keith, Pidge at his side.

Keith Kogane: Keith blinked in surprise at Hunk and Pidge. "What do you mean, 'what are you doing?!' I didn't even do anything!" Keith said in defense as he stepped back at the closeness of the duo.

Prince!Lance: Pidge gently pushed Hunk back."You're supposed to protect my brother, right? Right. You want to also spend time with him because it's obvious you like him, right? Right. So, I suggest you forget about pining for a little while and go do that." Hunk had to butt in. "Just not right now. Since he looks almost as rejected as you at the moment."

Keith Kogane: Keith scoffed. "What! I don't- I don't like Lance. He's a prince. It'd never work out anyways. Plus, he doesn't like me!" Keith said crossing his arms, looking away with a slight blush on his face. "I'm pretty sure he has a thing for that princess he met at the ball a few nights ago anyways...." Keith said with a pout.

Prince!Lance: Pidge and Hunk looked at each other, then back at Keith, then back at each other."He's hopeless." Pidge threw her hands in the air."He's utterly hopeless." She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Hunk looked at Keith."Keith, that princess was Allura, who has specifically expressed disinterest on account of the fact that she's too old for him and has a thing for your brother." He explained."And yes of course he likes you! He's practically shooed everyone else except us away, and he barely talks to us anyway. You're really the only one in the castle he frequently talks to. And don't even try to deny that you don't like him. And I hardly think that Lance would care about the fact that he's a prince."

Keith Kogane: Keith gaped. "Uh...Princess Allura of Altea? Princess Allura has a thing for...for Shiro?! As in Takashi? As in my older brother?" Keith asked with wide eyes. "A-and...Lance probably just has a hard time making friends. I'm constantly with him because I was assigned to guard him, that's the only reason he even talks to me.." Keith said in denial, glancing out to the courtyard where Lance still sat.

Prince!Lance: Now it was Hunk's turn to throw his hands up in the air."Not only is he hopeless, he's also utterly oblivious!" He raked his hands through his hair, and Pidge calmed down."Yes. YEs she does, but that is not important right now. What is important, is that I convinced dad to assign you to him because you two were both pining messes. And Yeah, Lance does have trouble making friends, but he's literally my brother, and has been friends with Hunk since he was 3. So I don't think that has anything to do with it. And he would talk to you outside of duty, except he'd be a blubbering mess otherwise."

Keith Kogane: "I- I don't know how to approach him! I get nervous cause he has pretty eyes and a nice smile! Look at me compared to him! How am I, a literal cheesestick looking Baffoon, supposed to talk to a prince that looks like he's a god? Hmm? Tell me what I'm supposed to do!?" Keith whined adding a lot of dramatic and frantic hand waving and flailing into his speech.

Prince!Lance: Pidge and Hunk facepalmed, and dragged him to Pidge's room. They locked the door and put Keith on the bed."Alright Kogane, listen up, you are not a cheese-stick looking Baffoon, Lance is not a god. He may be a prince but he's not a god. WE can't boost his ego that much." Pidge started." You are going to change out of what you're wearing, put on something relatively nice, comb your hair, wash your face, all that jazz, and you are going to talk to my brother!" She was shaking his shoulders by now, and Hunk had already brought a comb.

Keith Kogane: "Wait, what?! No! What does relatively nice mean? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Keith panicked standing up quickly. "Why do I have to wash my face? What's wrong with my hair?"

Prince!Lance: "Relatively nice as in you don't want to look like you dressed up specifically for him or else you'll both become blubbering messes." Hunk replied." And what you're wearing is covered in dust because you sat in the dirt with him. And your hair is always knotted and I finally get to comb it. AS for the face washing, well, it cools down the blush." He grinned as he handed Keith the comb. Pidge was watching with great amusement.

Keith Kogane: Keith looked at the comb in his hand. "....help me pick out an outfit..." He mumbled slightly, a deep red brushing over his cheeks.

Prince!Lance: Pidge chuckled."With pleasure." She stood up."This is the most fun I've had in weeks." She grinned and went to the wardrobe. She mostly preferred shirts and trousers to dresses, so she had a great deal of hand me-downs

Keith Kogane: "Oh good god. Do I have to do this? Can't I just...disappear? Forever? That'd be easier than embarrassing myself in front of Lance." Keith groaned tossing the comb back to Hunk.

Prince!Lance: Hunk caught the comb with ease."Yes, or you'll be pining until Zarkon kills us all." He replied. As of late, that had become a common phrase. It was kind of sad to be honest. "Look, We'll get Lance ready after we get you ready, so you'll both be at the same amount of possible embarrassment." He replied, moving behind Keith and started to comb his hair back. Pidge grinned as she came forward with a red vest, a white shirt and some black pants.

Keith Kogane: (sorry, I got distracted) "what the hell is that Pidge? I'm not wearing that. I'll look...I dunno, I'll look like a monkey!" Keith said crossing his arms, looking away from the princess.

Prince!Lance: (Np :) ) Pidge looked at him."You are literally wearing a dusty, bright red, half jacket. You will not look like a monkey. Trust me, I thought I looked great in them." She flung the outfit onto the bed beside him. Hunk was almost finished with Keith's hair."Pidge, Hair tie." He told her. The princess obliged and passed one. Hunk gently pulled Keith's hair back into a ponytail."Oooooh, it looks so nice.:

Keith Kogane: Keith blushed and glanced down at the outfit Pidge grabbed for himt. "You guys suck." Keith pouted grabbing the outfit. "Give me a minute." Keith sighed, walking into Pidges bathroom. He washed his face and put the outfit on. Keith looked in the mirror and groaned. He picked up his previous outfit and walked out of the bathroom shyly. "Well? You guys happy now?"

Prince!Lance: "WE love you too buddy." Hunk patted his shoulder as he left for the bathroom. The pair of them waited patiently for the boy to come out, and were thoroughly satisfied."Ohhhh my god, oh Keith you look so niiice." Hunk had to refrain from squealing. He felt like a proud parent. Pidge simply gave a a thumbs up."Alright. Part one is complete. Now for part two." She ran out the door."Ohhh Laaaance!" She called out.(Can you be pidge just for a little bit since I"m controlling Lance? Sorry if I'm being annoying)

Keith Kogane: (Sure sure. You're fine) Pidge ran out of the room quickly and ran down to the courtyard where Lance was still sitting. "Lance! Stop sulking, I need you to come with me! I saw that little...whatever it was with Keith and decided I need to help you!" Pidge announced proudly, standing in front of her brother with a large smile on her face.

Prince!Lance: (Thank you :) ) Lance looked up at Pidge, ignoring the quiet snickering coming from the knights."Wait, what are you talking about? Help me out with what exactly? Keith just left. Nothing happened." He replied, sheathing his sword."You're delirious or something sis, from, like, how hot it is inside."

Keith Kogane: "Lance!" Pidge whined. "Everyone knows you have a thing for Keith. I'm gonna help you actually get somewhere with him so the pining stops. Seriously, it's stressful to watch." Pidge said with a smirk. "Now come on. Stand up and let's go."

Prince!Lance: Lance blushed and sputtered"I-I ,wha-wha, I.. I do not!" He protested feebly. "I'm not going anywhere with someone who just said I was stressful to watch!" He exlcaimed, bright red. Shiro walked over."Your majesties, might I help out in this?" He asked Pidge. Lance sputtered again."Wh-wha, no!"

Keith Kogane: "Yes! Please Shiro, please help!" Pidge grinned, sticking her tongue out at Lance. Pidge grabbed Lance's hand and tried to force him to stand up.

Prince!Lance: Shiro went a few steps further and picked Lance up, draping him over his shoulder."Wha, what, what are you doing, put me down, I demand you stop this at once!" Lance pounded against Shiro's back, which did absolutely nothing. Shiro only chuckled and followed Pidge."Alright boys, that's enough for today!" He called to the knights.

Keith Kogane: Pidge smirked and skipped ahead of Shiro and Lance towards Lance's room. "I've decided that your gonna dress up a bit...not too much...and your gonna go find Keith." Pidge said opening Lance's door for Shiro.

Prince!Lance: "And why would I ever to agree to that ever?" Lance replied as Shiro put him down."Because We're all very, very tired of watching you two skirt around each other like squirrels, your highness." He replied with a smirk."So Princess, what's first on the agenda?"

Keith Kogane: Pidge snickered at Shiro's response and cleared her theist slightly. "Right. First up on the agenda is hair. Lancey Lance. I don't know how you do your hair so get into your bathroom and do your damn hair. And your face." Pidge said sternly. "Yeah, go put in your face for Keith."

Prince!Lance: Lance was bright red at this point."I'm not a squirrel." He murmured. He looked up at Pidge."Why would I need to do that, my hair is already fine." He replied. Shrio reached forward and pulled out a leaf."That's why." Lance frowned, his shoulders sagging."And what's wrong with my face?" He asked. Shiro gently pushed his index finger to Lance's cheek."That's why." He pulled away a dust covered finger. Lance groaned and slumped to the bathroom.

Keith Kogane: Pidge smiled up at Shiro. "Thank you Shiro! Honestly though, I'm suprised that your helping." Pidge said plopping into Lance's bed.

Prince!Lance: Shiro shrugged."I meant what I said, My brother is a lot of things, including oblivious and scared. Lance is too and Oretty much everyone in the castle wants them together except your parents." He replied. Lance came out, his hair and face done."Okay, am I presentable now?"

Keith Kogane: Pidge shook her head. "Nope. Clothes. Change. Put on a nice outfit, something that's gonna grab Keith's attention. But not anything to extravagant. Y'know?"

Prince!Lance: Lance looked down at himself."What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?!" He exclaimed. Shiro sighed."Well for one thing, you're still covered in dust, just not in the face, and second, would you ever just wear a shirt and trousers to a date?" He asked. Lance turned bright red at that.".....I don't know what to pick." He admitted sheepishly.

Keith Kogane: Pidge walked to lances closet and scanned it quickly before she grabbed a light blue button up shirt and white dress pants. "Here Lancey. Put these on and roll up the sleeves to your elbow! And keep a few buttons open on the top!" Pidge said holding the outfit out towards Lance. "Take it. Change. Prepare yourself mentally."

Prince!Lance: Lance caught the outfit, utterly embarrassed."I'll prepare you mentally." He mumbled and went back into the bathroom, changing. Shiro smiled at Pidge."Well, this was utterly entertaining. I look forward to hearing the results your highness." He bowed and left the room. After that, Lance walked out of the bathroom and looked at Pidge."There, am I presentable now?"

Keith Kogane: Pidge took a moment to observe Lance. "Mmm....yeah. I think your good! Now stop being so sour! I'm just trying to help you! Now go, go find Keith. I'll see you later Lance~ Have fun!" Pidge said shoving Lance out of his room.

Prince!Lance: Lance reluctantly let himself be pushed. Why was he acting like this, he should be happy, he'd finally have a reason to have a non-protective conversation with Keith. He walked through the halls, already missing the sword, and tried to find his protector, only instead, to run into his father.

Keith Kogane: "Lance. What's with the outfit? Are you going on a date? When will I get to meet her?" Lance's father asked taking a look at Lance's outfit. "My son, whoever she is, she's a lucky one." The king said resting a proud hand on Lances shoulder.

Prince!Lance: Lance tensed a little."Um, y-yeah, I guess you could say that." Lance answered timidly."Th-Thanks dad." He smiled nervously and rushed past his father, darting around the corner. God, his father would probably kill him if he knew he had feelings for another man.

#voltron #keith #lance #Royalty au

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