#which she is!! most of the time aha

[wishchthumblr]

on todays episode of "mental health issues that could easily be solved by one single thing that i dont have", GET A MICROWAVE!!!

i just know SO many of my eating related issues (not all obviously but a LOT of them) would be solved if this house just had a goddamn microwave

today i ate like... 1/4th of those small frozen pizzas, 1/3rd of a grilled cheese, and 1/3rd bowl of macaroni and meatballs. and yall wanna know why i didnt eat the whole thing of any of them? its cause my stupid adhd ass took too long to eat and the food got cold. and then i Cannot Eat That anymore. so even though i was still hungry i didnt eat the rest of it and just went back to rotting on youtube shorts and being too hungry to do anything and feeling dumb and unproductive and being guilty of making food that i dont eat. just... feeling like a big ol' waste

but the thing is, if i just

✨owned a microwave✨

i could just reheat the motherfucking food and still eat it and not feel like ive wasted that food. ((because since that food is wasted i feel guilty about making it, so i dont make any more food until next meal time, but then i didnt finish that either cause im stupid and eat too slow.))

but we dont have a microwave. only an oven. and yeah maybe i couldve reheated the 3/4th pizza or the grilled cheese in the oven, but then again the oven uses a lot of electricity. and my mom is always complaining that i turn the oven on, forget that its on for a while, and that im wasting electricity. and i was too tired and hungry to deal with that possibility. plus with the oven theres a chance i forget it too long or have it too hot and burn the food and that would just make me feel worse

but we dont have a microwave, because my mom thinks having a microwave leads to "eating more unhealthy foods that you just heat up" instead of "real food". so i didnt reheat any of my food. so i didnt eat it. it got to the point where it got cold and gross so i just threw it in the trash and hope my mom or grandma doesnt notice.

but if i had a microwave, i couldve reheated that food. and i couldve eaten it. ((and yeah, maybe i wouldnt have ate the whole thing, but maybe half at least? that counts right? well it dont really matter if it counts or not cause it didnt happen.))

and then maybe i wouldnt have been feeling like im gonna faint the whole day and maybe i wouldve gotten literally anything done instead of just scrolling on pinterest and youtube shorts for hours and feeling worthless. and maybe if i ate i wouldnt have hurt myself today

but nope. no microwave. it leads to "unhealthy" habits. i guess not eating enough to count as even ONE full meal is healthier since its not "microwave food"

thanks mom

[tamagotchikgs]

last night i was poking around in my mouth as u do and i reached back where i had always felt this hard thing w my tongue for awhile now but was like ah maybe it's just like. my gums being inflamed in the back or smthn BUT,, no i poked that thing with my fingernail n it is a tooth that is a whole ass wisdom tooth

[icharchivist]

cw: child abuse (psychological, grooming, ect)

also speaking of parental abuse there's also this text of how Millie wants to be Tyra's mother, but she doesn't want anything that makes Tyra unique.

She started loving Tyra the moment she saw her find some dinosaure when she was dying in the cold and starved after being separated from her parents, seeing that despite her situation, Tyra was so excited about finding a Tyranosaure she was forgetting how desperate her situation was and instead loved the dino right away.

Millie saw how excited Tyra was about it, and loved Tyra right away enough to decide to make her hers.

But Millie hates dinosaurs, she finds them disgusting, she uses them as tool and keeps insulting them, hates that Tyra sees them as her family.

she used the dinos as bait to get Tyra to pay attention to her, and she used a particularities of the dino to mind control Tyra

but even now as Tyra is being brainwashed, everytime she looks at the dinos, Millie just tells her "don't look at those disgusting things, just look at me, your momma"

and it's another level of control that rings way too true on parents who """"""love""""" their children, but not for who they are -- just for what it brings them.

yes Tyra is cute. But everything she likes, everything that makes her happy, is disgusting. So it needs to be removed from Tyra's life. Her love and her excitement has to carry over to Millie, not to the stuff she actually like.

it's something way too real and it's genuinely giving me the yikes it makes me unwell.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was getting my associates degree I took a course on human sexuality. It was really fascinating and wonderful. One of our assignments was to write about the first time we ever masturbated which was very uncomfortable and silly at the same time.

Mine was extremely boring because there’s nothing exciting about a five year old realizing that climbing the fire pole feels really good.

I told a coworker at the time about the assignment and she laughed and told me about her daughter. They had these really old dining room chairs with carved legs. The chairs had smooth wood bulbs going up them that the kid loved to rub on.

Her mom didn’t want to dissuade her or make her ashamed but she also needed to establish that masturbation should always be private. So she talked to her daughter and explained that she could do that but must do it in her room alone.

The result of which was that everyone was aware the girl was going to masturbate when she dragged the chair into her room to be alone with it.

My friends was my favorite though, because his discovery was in stages. He liked it when his penis would get hard as a kid because it meant he could grab it and pretend to be flying a helicopter. His aha moment was when this happened once in the shower and the grabbing plus soap made him realize something else might be going on.

That was funny on its own, but nothing could match when in the most betrayed tone he said, “It was so much more fun then, before stuff came out at the end.”

[tame-the-lion-writes]

reader x dog shifter 141 [pt.2]

(If you haven't seen it yet, here's part one.)

It’s been a couple weeks, and you’re starting to catch on to just how smart your dogs are.

Not that you know what they actually are—but they’ve got this weirdly human intelligence behind their eyes, and weirdly human personalities. The Great Dane likes to sit on the recliner in your living room, regal and commanding, often watching your front yard whenever the gardener would come over. The gardener’s son replaced him once for a job, leaving grass cuttings in the driveway, and he was all huffy about it. It amused you at first, but then you realized his judgement wasn’t reserved for strangers. He was even more huffy the time you accidentally burned a steak. (Jeez, since when was he a dad?) Not to mention the empty whiskey glasses he likes to keep around, but that's not right—dogs can't have alcohol, can they?

The German Shepherd, on the other hand, is surprisingly clingy—but not in a bump-into-your-leg or overtly cuddly kind of way. Instead, he follows you while never begging for attention, attentive and patient as though a soldier awaiting orders. You’ve been jump-scared one too many times by his presence, when you think you’re alone and he appears out of thing air. A massive giant of a dog, with paws as silent as a shadow. And he’s stubborn—doesn’t initiate contact, but you swear you’ve caught a subtle bashful glance. Especially when you scratch behind his ears and along the scar of his cheek and chin.

But what the Shepherd lacks in open affection, the Labrador makes up tenfold. He doesn't pester about it, though, simply hopping up to your side on the couch to curl up or placing his muzzle on top of your knees. Still, while probably the most obedient out of the four, you’ve seen him get roped into food heists with the Foxhound, or stalking as closely and silently as the Shepherd. Very much the little brother who tags along with whatever. But you can't stay mad at him for long, either—not when he knows how to apologize—bringing you a freshly chomped-off flower from the backyard whenever you get mad. Then he'll sit at your heels with a faint tail wag, whining 'til you're settled and appeased.

The Foxhound is perhaps the most talkative, in both a noisy and conversational way. His joy is unrelenting around you, and he greats you like you’d expect any other dog. Still, he’s awfully communicative. It’s how you’ve learned their names—with you wandering aloud what to call them, and him making faces at every suggestion. He eventually settled for playing retriever: playing charades by bringing you back bottles and bars of soap. For the Great Dane, he grabbed an old receipt from the trash. For the Shepherd, he threw on a sheet. He seemed awfully confused on what to do for the Labrador, though, and just kept whining as if in apology.

“So Soap, Price, Ghost, and…,” you trail off, glancing at the Labrador with a slight pout. “Oh, I’m sorry, boy. I really don’t know what to call you. And Soap here seems like he’s run out of braincells.”

Ghost snorts in amusement, which is returned by Soap’s unfettered glare.

The next morning, though, there really is no explanation as to how Soap learned the alphabet, how to write, or to arrange your bedsheets in the following name: GAZ.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

"Aha... what the fuck."

Price has face-palmed (face-pawed?) and Ghost just walks over and calmly almost slapstick-esque baps Soap on the head. Meanwhile, Gaz looks dejected, pressing his forehead to the front door, like he's expecting you to kick them out in the next five seconds.

Not that you would, of course—but we can queue the mild horror and existential questioning of what the hell these dogs actually are. You call your friend to rant about your theory—that they could be escapees from a top secret government laboratory, or spies from another country. She just says to enter them into a dog show, or make ‘em celebrities on social media.

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover !

featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)

notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!

Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)

About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.

About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.

About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.

Gepard Landau

About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?

About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.

About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.

Jing Yuan

About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…

About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.

(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.

Jingliu

About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.

About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.

(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.

Kafka

About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?

About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~

About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.

© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[wileycap]

So, uh, Netflix Avatar, huh? Yeah. I guess I'll make a really long post about it because ATLA brainrot has is a cornerstone of my personality at this point.

So.

It's okay. B, maybe a C+.

That's it.

Now for the spoilers:

The biggest issue with the Netflix version is the pacing. Scenes come out of nowhere and many of the episodes are disjointed. Example: Aang escaping from Zuko's ship. We see him getting the key and going "aha!", and in the next scene he's in Zuko's room. And then he just runs out, no fun acrobatics or fights, and immediately they go to the Southern Air Temple where he sees Gyatso's corpse, goes into the Avatar state, and then sees Gyatso being really cheesy, comes out of it, and resolves that conflict. Nothing seems to lead into anything. The characters don't get to breathe.

The show's worst mistake (aside from Iroh fucking murdering Zhao) is its' first one: they start in the past. Instead of immediately introducing us to our main characters and dropping us into a world where we have a perfect dynamic where Aang doesn't know the current state of the world and Katara and Sokka don't know about the past, thus allowing for seamless and organic worldbuilding and exposition, they just... tell us. "Hey, this is what happened, ok, time for Aang!" There's no mystery, no intrigue, just a stream of information being shoved down the audience's throats and then onto the next set piece.

The visuals are for the most part great, but like with most Netflix productions, they just don't have great art direction. It feels like a video game cinematic, where everything is meant to be Maximum Cool - and none of the environments get to breathe. It's like they have tight indoor sets (with some great set design) and then they have a bunch of trailer shots. It's oozing with a kind of very superficial love.

Netflix still doesn't know how to do lighting, and with how disjointed the scenes are, the locations end up feeling like a parade of sets rather than actual cities or forests or temples. As for the costumes, Netflix still doesn't know how to do costumes that look like they're meant to be actually worn, so many of the characters seem weirdly uncomfortable, like they're afraid of creasing their pristine costumes.

The acting is decent to good, for the most part. I can't tell if the weaker moments come down to the actors or the direction and editing, but if I had to guess, I'd say the latter. Iroh and Katara are the weakest, Sokka is the most consistent, Zuko hits the mark most of the time, and Aang is okay. I liked Suki (though... she was weirdly horny? Like?) but Yue just fell kind of flat.

The tight fight choreography of the original is replaced with a bunch of spinny moves and Marvel fighting, though there are some moments of good choreography, like the Agni Kai between Ozai and Zuko (there's a million things I could say about how bad it was thematically, but this post is overly long already.) There's an actually hilarious moment in the first episode when Zuko is shooting down Aang, and he does jazz hands to charge up his attack.

Then there's the characters. Everybody feels very static - Zuko especially gets to have very little agency. A great example of that is the scene in which Iroh tells Lieutenant Jee the story of Zuko's scar.

In the original, it's a very intimate affair, and he doesn't lead the crew into any conclusions. Here, Iroh straight up tells the crew "you are the 41st, he saved your lives" and then the crew shows Zuko some love. A nice moment, but it feels unearned, when contrasted with the perfection of The Storm. In The Storm, Zuko's words and actions directly contradict each other, and Iroh's story gives the crew (and the audience) context as to why, which makes Zuko a compelling character. We get to piece it out along with them. Here - Iroh just flat out says it. He just says it, multiple times, to hammer in the point that hey, Zuko is Good Actually.

And then there's Iroh. You remember the kindly but powerful man who you can see gently nudging Zuko to his own conclusions? No, he's a pretty insecure dude who just tells Zuko that his daddy doesn't love him a lot and then he kills Zhao. Yeah. Iroh just plain kills Zhao dead. Why?

Iroh's characterization also makes Zuko come off as dumb - not just clueless and deluded, no, actually stupid. He constantly gets told that Iroh loves him and his dad doesn't, and he doesn't have any good answers for that, so he just... keeps on keeping on, I guess? This version of Zuko isn't conflicted and willfully ignorant like the OG, he's just... kind of stupid. He's not very compelling.

In the original, Zuko is well aware of Azula's status as the golden child. It motivates him - he twists it around to mean that he, through constant struggle, can become even stronger than her, than anyone. Here, Zhao tells him that "no, ur dad likes her better tee hee" and it's presented as some kind of a revelation. And then Iroh kills Zhao. I'm sorry I keep bringing that up, but it's just such an unforgiveable thematic fuckup that I have to. In the original, Zhao falls victim to his hubris, and Zuko gets to demonstrate his underlying compassion and nobility when he offers his hand to Zhao. Then we get some ambiguity in Zhao: does he refuse Zuko's hand because of his pride, or is it his final honorable action to not drag Zuko down with him? A mix of both? It's a great ending to his character. Here, he tries to backstab Zuko and then Iroh, who just sort of stood off to the side for five minutes, goes "oh well, it's murderin' time :)"

They mess with the worldbuilding in ways that didn't really need to be messed with. The Ice Moon "brings the spirit world and the mortal world closer together"? Give me a break. That's something you made up, as opposed to the millenia of cultural relevance that the Solstice has. That's bad, guys. You replaced something real with something you just hastily made up. There's a lot of that. We DID NOT need any backstory for Koh, for one. And Katara and Sokka certainly didn't need to be captured by Koh. I could go on and on, but again, this post is already way too long.

It's, um, very disappointing. A lot of telling and not very much showing, and I feel like all of the characters just... sort of end up in the same place they started out in. I feel like we don't see any of the characters grow: they're just told over and over again how they need to grow and what they need to do.

To sum it up: Netflix Avatar is a mile wide, but an inch deep.

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with quickly shrinking fifteen feet between you two, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pour in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[branded-rose]

“So I was like, ‘Yeah it was great, call you later!’ And I am TOTALLY not gonna call. She wanted to do the lamest positions EVER- What?” Adam tossed a grape into his mouth as he noticed Lute stop what she was doing.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I saw your head shake! I saw your eyes roll.” He ate another grape as Lute sighed and set the dish down in the soapy water.

“Sir, there isn’t any point in bringing up something we’ve disagreed about at length before.” She turned back to the sink, flipping on the faucet.

“AHA! I @#$%#@ knew it! This is because you think sex HAS to have a purpose. You can totally @##$ and it not mean anything. I do it all the time.” Adam finished off the last of his grapes before grabbing a wine bottle and digging around in the drawer for his corkscrew.

“Besides, you’re just saying that because you’re the most virgin angel in Heaven. You’d change your tune REAL quick Dangertits if you had experience~” The cork flew across the kitchen, narrowly missing his lieutenant’s wing by a hair.

Lute pressed her lips together, puffing her cheeks as she tried to formulate a response.

“Uh-SIR! What are you doing??”

“Getting a drink, I’m thirsty. You want some?” He poured himself some wine, turning to see Lute shooting him a look and motioning pointedly to the glass in the dish drainer.

“I just washed the one from dinner.”

“Uh-huh. Looks great.”

Lute looked at him flatly. She then tossed a towel at him, motioning towards the dishes that were on the rack.

“Then you shouldn’t mind drying them.” She pushed her sleeves up, setting back to work.

Adam regarded the towel flatly, sipping his wine before moving to lean on the counter next to her.

“Quit changing the subject. What’s stopping you anyway?”

“From what?”

“Sex. What’s stopping you? And don’t tell me you buy into all that lovey-dovey ‘I’m waiting for the right guy’ bull.” He set his wine glass aside.

“We’ve had this conversation before-” 

“Yeah, ages ago. Come on. What’s stopping you?” he repeated. 

Lute lifted a plate from the water and brought it close to her face, using her nail to try and dislodge whatever dried on food had stubbornly tried to reside on the ceramic. When she was satisfied, she returned it to the water, sighing when she realized she had to actually consider Adam’s question.

“Sex won’t help me protect Heaven more.” Simple.

“But what if it did? What if your virginity was stopping you from being the baddest @#$%#@ this side of Heaven?” He took the plate, setting it on the counter.

Lute arched a brow, pausing in her work and resting a hand on her hip.

“I thought I already was?”

“Then what? You’re scared?”

Lute scoffed at the notion.

“I fear nothing.” She turned back to the sink, running the plate under the water to rinse it off. She then held the plate out for Adam to take, nodding towards the towel he had unceremoniously discarded on the countertop.

“Then what the @#$% is it? Cause I’m not buying it.” He took the plate, looking at it for half a second before setting it down next to the towel.

She sighed deeply as she returned her attention to the remaining dishes, her eye catching the one she had tried to hand him.

“The moment hasn’t ever come up.” She picked the plate off of the counter, once more holding it out for him to take. Which he did, only to put it right back down.

“That’s because you don’t KNOOOW what you’re missing. The moment could be right there and you’d have NO idea.” He snorted.

“Sir.” Lute picked up theplate, again.

“What?” He scooted towards her, returning the ceramic dish to the counter.

“Will you just dry the @#$%$@ plate?”

“Why? Frustrating you or something? Hmm?”

Lute closed her eyes and pressed her lips together as she gripped the edge of the sink. After a moment, she exhaled deeply through her nose, her face heating up as she felt his breath hot against her neck.

“…Adam.”

“Lute.” His smirk widened as the golden hue spread across her cheeks. He then leaned in closer, his forehead just barely touching hers.

“This enough of a moment?”

Lute swallowed. “Sir, are you… coming onto me?”

“I dunno. You want me to be?” He reached over and grabbed his long since forgotten about wine, taking a sip as he backed up.

She considered the question for a long moment before she reached over, taking the plate off of the counter a final time. She pushed it at him, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“I want you to dry the plate.”

--------------------------------------

I return from like a 800 year hiatus to post this monstrosity because... I am so intrigued by the concept of these horrible angels doing the most mundane of things.

Also there is just something a bit oxymoronic to me about a show about redemption having irredeemable characters such as these. That alone makes them interesting and I hope at the very least LUTE is explored more in season 2.

Adam & Lute © Vivziepop/A24

Artwork © Branded-Rose

[qqueenofhades]

Leaving aside possible reversals, disasters, doom & gloom, can we take a moment to savor the Trump meltdown over Harris/Walz and the momentum that makes a possible blue tsunami seem an entirely plausible outcome? I'd love to give you the space to ramble about it if you'd like, as my current fandom at least for the moment has shifted back to US politics (but not, for the first time in a while, to doom scrolling politics!).

Aha, I feel as I have probably already said most of my current thoughts, but here are a few things that really make me desire a heaping helping of butt-whooping blue wave in November:

The state that has had the most volunteer sign-ups since Harris took over the ticket? Fucking Florida, with over 18,000. The Villages, formerly a hotbed of Trump support (and y'know, probably still is), also had a major pro-Kamala event, and she is allegedly up 15 points in Miami-Dade (after Biden won the county by 7% and lost the state only by 3%). Now, we all know that Obama won Florida twice, but it has become such a symbol of retrograde Trumpian/DeSantisian politics that winning there would be literally seismic. I'm not going so far as saying that it's in PLAY play, but let's just hold onto that happy, happy idea.

Likewise the poll I mentioned the other day, where Trump is struggling to break 50% in Ohio, once a swing state and now also reliably red. The fact that this is Vance's home state and he's dragging the ticket down every single time he opens his mouth, thus offering the smallest sliver of hope that Ohio (which DID legalize abortion and weed by major margins last year) could also go blue? Incredible. Amazing. Showstopping.

Harris is also tied with Trump (46%-46%) in North Carolina and there is a lot of chatter about how the terrible GOP governor candidate could give a boost to Democratic turnout statewide.

The Mormons have apparently announced their intention to abandon (or at least support much less than they usually do) the Republican presidential ticket in 2024. Remember when Obama won Indiana in 2008? In my wildest dreams, I imagine Utah going blue in 2024. It won't but shh.

Basically, where we were braced for another agonizing nail-biting grind-it-out three-day election determined by a few thousand votes in key states (because etc etc the Electoral College sucks) we are now looking at the very real possibility that Harris wins at least one state, and possibly more, that Biden didn't, and which have been seen as out of reach for Democrats since Trump came on the scene. I don't think I need to counsel anyone against complacency, because we're all too damn scared for that, but yeah. Polls, even the good-looking ones that we like, don't vote. They are still skewed and subjective and do not represent the actual reality, whatever that may end up being. The Republicans and the media will be trying their absolute goddamnfuckingest to ratfuck us again in the 80-something days that remain, but:

WE CAN DO THIS, WE WILL DO THIS, WE MUST DO THIS.

WHAT IS THIS.... JOY SCROLLING? FOR AMERICAN POLITICS? IN THE YEAR 2024 WITH DONALD TRUMP ON THE TICKET FOR THE FUCKING THIRD TIME?

UNPOSSIBLE.

[rogueshadow1124]

TROUBLE

[BATFAMILY IMAGINE SERIES]

Batfamily x Batsis!Reader

Summary: Y/N Wayne gets in trouble at school, her father Bruce Wayne is called in to see the principal...

Word count: 2477

Warnings: swearing (not proof read)

There sat a young girl, dark Y/H/C locks messily arranged upon her head. Bruce Wayne, her father, was designated in the chair beside her, hands clasped together in his lap as he held immense eye contact with the headmistress who broke out into a sudden sweat under the icy blue hues of the man, not knowing whether to break the eye contact or keep it.

"I would appreciate it if you sped this up Dianne, I've been In this hellhole for more hours than I should have been." The girl sneered at the women who was making googly eyes towards her father, seemingly glaring through her thick skull. 'Pft stupid witch!'

"Y/N what have I told you about addressing adults in a respectful manner." Bruce peered down at his youngest child, squinting down at her as she pulled the innocent card, batting her lashes at the older man as she always did in these situations, which happened to appeal quite often. The Raven haired male switched his gaze back to the women before him and his child, shooting a charming smile that was hardly noticable. "Please, continue if you may Ms. Chèrmaine."

"Aha urm- of course Mr. Wayne." She lowered her gaze to the papers that were disorganised upon her desk, moving o few pieces around before she hummed and pulled out a file on the young girl. "It appears Y/N has made an offense towards another student."

"Is that so?" The man turned his head so he could face his daughter who had switched her eyes to look around the room, avoiding his own identical hues that were latched onto her. He sighed, bringing up a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose in a form annoyance. "And what is this offense you speak of ma'am?"

"I hope you understand that violence is not tolerated here at the academy Mr. Wayne and Y/N has bypassed these rules numerous times, this time however has been proven to be out of hand." The headmistress set her eyes on Y/N who was already staring at her, more so glaring harshly with a scowl forming on her lips. "Am I right to assume you are familiar with Mr. Hayes?"

"You already know I am Chèrmane, get on with it!" Y/N snapped.

"Y/N Y/M/N Wayne! What have I said about showing respect?" Bruce stared down at her, a look of disapproval overshadowing his features.

"Right right I'm so sincerely sorry Ms. Chèrmane."

"If I may continue- your daughter Mr. Wayne is a troublesome girl. This morning, a fight broke out in the cafeteria, we are yet to get to the bottom of the cause but we have reason to believe that Y/N had started it. We have CCTV footage as evidence." Dianne Chèrmane was now on the girls most hated list, how could that women have called Y/N as such as troublesome, maybe hot-headed but not at all did she herself believe she was troublesome. People- especially people like Hayden Hayes got under her skin so easily.

"I am not troublesome Ms. Chèrmane and I demand to know why you have not been willing to hear my side of the story." Y/N rose a brow at the woman, eyeing her sitting form up and down in a judging manner. A scoff passed the girls lips as she felt a tiny nudge on her arm, coming to now side-eye her father. "At least have the decency to hear my side of the story if you will...Please."

"Go ahead Y/N..." The headmistress nodded at the girl, motioning with her hands to speak on.

"It all started when that stuck up Hayes kid came and sat at my table..."

[In the cafeteria early today...]

The young Wayne was sitting quietly at one of the tables in the cafeteria, eyes scanning over the words on the page of the textbook she was currently reading. Her fingers tapped rhythmatically against the wooden surface, the tapping came to a stop when she noticed a shadow casting over the space infront of her, hearing the sound of a chair squeaking as it was pulled out, allowing whoever had moved it to take a seat.

"Oh little Wayne." A male voice called out to the girl tauntingly, her head slowly rose so her icy gaze could be set on the sandy haired boy sat infront of her, a low grumble echoing between her lips.

"I have no time for you Hayes." She stated coldly, slamming the textbook close while coming to a stand from where she was previously sat in the chair. "You ruined the little peace I have in this wretched place."

"How come you think your so high and mighty because your daddy's rich huh?" Hayes seethed, jumping up from his chair and proceeded to slam his hands down on the table eyes trailing over the bored expression that plagued the girls face.

"Are we done here? I havent such time for inconvenience." She arched a brow, smiling fakely as she watched the boys face change into one of annoyance and frustration, his nostrils starting to flare in his moment of agitation. "I will take my leave."

"No you won't Wayne, I wanted to talk!"

"Oh yeah well I dont want to talk nor do I have time to waste on you." Y/N turned her back to the boy, setting off towards the exit of the cafeteria only to be stopped by a hand grasping onto her wrist.

"I bet you daddy's so disappointed in you, your a nobody Wayne, a nobody you hear me?! Nobody cares about you, your a mess up, somebody who is only the slightest bit lucky to exist-" Haydens speech came to an end when the girl swung around and connected her fist to his face, a cracking sound echoing through the silence.

"Dont you ever talk to me in that way Hayes."

"Huh..." He hummed, hand clutching his nose tightly, eyes glaring at the girl menacingly. He brought his bloodied hand nearer to his face, examining the amount of crimson that laced his fingers. "I admit you have quite the force for such a small thing Wayne but you've made a huge mistake."

As the male went to make a move on the girl, she caught him by the wrist just as his hand had raised at her. She huffed, rolling her eyes not at all fazed by the advance the boy had made, she twisted his arm harshly, swinging his front into a wall, pressing hardly to where he had started to whine and wince at the oncoming pain.

"Don't you ever touch me Hayden, I may be a girl but I can sure handle myself and y'know what I dont think I'm high and mighty i just like this thing called personal space, something you obviously dont know of but i would take this as a warning if i were you, i could do so much more damage." She twisted his arm more, smirking when he shouted out in pain, his arm pulsing hardly as it felt like the bone was about to pop out of its place.

Then she let go, allowing the boy to slide down the wall as she waltzed out of the cafeteria not minding the other students who were left silent and stunned from the scene.

[Back to the office in present time...]

"Technically it was his own fault." The girl declared, slouching back in the chair that she had been sat in for ages, feeling it start to become uncomfy.

"That does still not give you the right to nearly immobilize the boy Y/N." Ms. Chèrmane spoke, looking at the girl intensely, not knowing why the younger was completely unfazed and looking rather bored in the situation.

"Are you saying I should have allowed that boy to lay his hands on me?" She spat out, staring down the headmistress who seemingly shrunk back in her seat as the girls agitation rose from nothing to something in only the few moments that passed by with the conversation. "I do believe I am finished here."

Y/N pushed back in her chair, making it squeak against the wooden boards of the floor. She set off towards the office doors ignoring the calls of her name that fled from her fatyers lips, hand reaching out to the brass knob of the door only to fling it open harshly, not bothering to stop it from swinging into the wall before she stormed away and through the halls.

She was absolutely livid, how could some woman be a headmistress of a school if she didnt even take into consideration both sides of the story. Y/N does have to admit that she did indeed act out maybe a little too much on the school grounds but that doesnt mean that only she was in the wrong, Hayden Hayes had made an advance to lay his hands on her and that would not at all be an acceptable move to make by any means on not only her but any other female or student within the school.

The girl barged through the exit, hopping down the steep stairwell vastly. She set into a quick pace down the opposite way to where her fathers vehicle was parked and headed straight for the city, her mind drowned in the thoughts of what she was to do next, she didnt want to go home yet or face her father- in her mind she did believe that she was infact a disappointment, she was always the one to be in trouble, she couldnt do much right by her family- trouble always seemed to follow her and she hated it because this made her a burden.

How could she hold the name Wayne, she couldn't live up to being under such a powerful name. She wasnt at all like her brothers- Dick Grayson was so very graceful and kind, something she couldn't conquere or be. Jason Todd, she related to him the most being reckless and resentful but he had qualities that she didn't, he could control and restrain himself, he was the charmer after all. Then theres Timothy Drake, he was a technical genius, smart and generous, he was above many but he was humble. And theres Damian Wayne, her actual half-blood brother, he was an absolute prodigy, a cocky bastard and a know it all, he had not many flaws, he seemed so perfect.

A vibration from her pocket caught her attention, taking her away from the haze her mind was slowly suffocating within. She whipped out her phone from her pocket, noticing how the screen had lit up with her fathers name, she grumbled pressing decline, going to put it back in her pocket only to have it start buzzing again, only this time it was one of her brothers.

"What do you want Jason?" She hadn't meant for her voice to shake when she spoke, also currently noticing that her throat was becoming dry and her eyes burned as water had started to build and make her icy blues become glassy.

"Where you at little bird, Bruce is flipping his lid." Jason's voice echoed through the device, a slight hint of worry wavering in his tone as he waited for an answer.

"M'just catching some fresh air Jay, no biggie I'll be back later." Was her response, a heavy breath breaking through her chapped lips shortly after when she heard her older brother whisper something incoherent under his breath.

"Fresh air? This is Gotham Y/N/N, theres nothing fresh about the place." He attempted to joke, not raising any kind of applause in return, nothing but a low hum on the girls behalf. "Where are ya' I'll pick you up."

"Gotham city park." She whispered, taking a seat on one of the benches. She could hear a few ruffles through Jason's end of the phone before he grumbled a goodbye to whoever was in the room with him.

"See ya in five kid." He ended up hanging up the phone before another word could be spoken.

Y/N's eyes were lowered towards the ground, body unmoving as she breathed unrhythmatically in an attempt to calm her nerves as she was beginning to grow upset. She hadn't meant to get so out of hand, she never does but she just cant control herself at times and she absolutely despises herself for that. She could be a better person, she could try harder.

Her thoughts begin to overcrowd her mind, making her become overwhelmed and she succumbed to the words that swarm her head. A tear had finally fallen, sliding down the length of her smooth pasty cheek, trailing over the ridge of a scar she had gotten on one of her nightly patrols. She hadn't cried for over a year and now she had broken, after all this time of having her feelings build up.

"Hey baby bird." She heard the soft masculine voice of her brother, she peered up through her lashes glancing at the boy who had crouched down infront of her. "Talk to me kid."

"I'm sorry..." she whispered, watching as his face contorted into one of confusion. "I never mean to be the way I am, i cant help being a disappointment."

"Woah, let me stop you right there." A hand made it's way under her chin, tilting her head upwards so her eyes could meet a pair of candy apple greens. "You are nowhere near a disappointment Y/N, nowhere near."

"But dad was so mad, I make him mad."

"Y/N/N you don't make Bruce mad, he just doesnt want you to turn into something we all know your not. We want you to be safe and happy, we dont want you to end up hurt." His thumb reached out to swipe at the tears that had continuously started to fall, a light smile lacing his features when he saw the girl's lips lift at the ends.

"I dont want to be a bitch all the time." She concluded, leaning into the boys hand that now layed on her cheek, seeking the comfort he was providing at this time.

"I know kid, but we all have our ups and downs- take demon for example, he's an absolute cocky little shit but we still love him." Jason mused, chuckling lowly when he saw a flicker of light seep through Y/N's eyes as she started to smile a little more. "That stays between you and I."

"I dont know Jay, I might just let it slip." She taunted, smirking her brother when he rose his brows. "I'm joking."

"Those words ever get out, I'm coming for you little bird."

[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Scuttling back in to say;

YOU MAKE ME WANNA WRITE MORE STUFF SO BADDDDD ITS SO GOOD

+

Would there possibly be room for a Dogday & Catnap scenario where reader came in sick, because they simply refuse to take sick days, and those giants just hate seeing them like that and just take care/help with work?

Keep up the good work buddy, I LOVE EATING READING IT

Gentle Giants

Note || AHA- thank you!

WC || 1,152

Sypnosis || your fuzzy companion refuses to let you overwork yourself, even in sickness.

CatNap – 

You had him CONCERNED, and he doesn’t feel like that rarely for anyone else. Right off the bat when you come into work he can tell you are sick, he voices his concerns with Bobby who he thought of having good advice for a situation like this. She had suggested that he help take the load off of your workload at least, as you were stubborn and proclaim you can do work all by yourself. 

CatNap didn’t want you to ever accidentally hurt yourself, seeing as how you will go to every corner of the factory to get your duties done – even if you had some work to do as a caretaker, just a temporary one. He decided that he had enough of it, seeing as how you’d only get worse when you're working. 

Halfway through your shift, he decided to intervene, picking you up around the waist and laying you on his back despite your many protests to leave you alone. CatNap retorted with an audible snort, refusing to relent against your words. He’s seen what happens to employees when they come in sick, not taking a sick day off. No way would he allow that to happen to you. You simply were far too precious to CatNap, you were; kind, patient and gentle with him, despite his many times that he had treated you a little… rudely. 

The insomniac cat thought it would be best to bring you to his sleeping place, clean and unmarked of his scratches (though save for the few claw marks here and there against the walls). His stretchy tail had elongated far enough to pick you up by the waist again, which in hindsight did startle you a little as you had gotten used to being on his back for a long period of time. Gently, CatNap settled you on his bed, promptly laying you down in the proper position as if he had done this all before – with children, of course he’d have this experience to do so. You were tired, lethargic, simply just flopping against the orange mattress and finding comfort in how springy and just comforting it was. 

Truth be told, he did admit to snatching you away. Only to another employee who asked where you were, they were understanding once he had pointed out you were sick. People needed rest after all, and the employee knew you were quite the stubborn type. CatNap had finally returned with a blanket that was draped over his shoulder, and a bucket of water he held in his mouth alongside the rotund rag that laid at the silver edge top of the bucket. He had steady motions, setting down the bucket that was hanging from his mouth beside the large mattress bed. Soon enough, he had also finally covered you with the blanket, quiet enough as to not wake you as he had seen you fall asleep in his absence. 

At first, he wasn’t sure what to do with the rag, just sitting there at the top of the bucket. But soon enough he had found a solution. CatNap had found one of the brand new fresh miniature smiling critters, who was alive like he was and filled the rag with water, then laid it across your forehead.

CatNap was glad, though he knew the process of having to wet the rag over and over again as it can get dry after some time.

DogDay –

Cuddly, protective and very stern when needed. DogDay was happy at first to see you coming to work again, but overtime it became less of happiness and more so concerned as he began to realize you were most likely sick. He took his thoughts to Bubba, as he knew him to be smart and informative for the most part. Bubba had told him you just were most likely sick, knowing how you didn’t like taking sick days off even if you really truly were sick.

DogDay needed a plan, action to help lessen the load on your shoulders. He won’t stand for the fact that you are working actively while being sick at the same time, heck even a dog like him knew this! He wanted you to get some proper rest, but how was he actually gonna be able to do so? But as ever, DogDay remained to be looking on the bright side of this as he asked Bubba once again what he should do. Bubba was very smart in comparison to him, he wasn’t that well informed with sickness himself.

Bubba had suggested that he take half of your workload at least, so he went exactly to do that, people had eyed him for his weird out of place appearance outside of where one usually would find him. He didn’t really care for it, just continuing to do your work load without your knowledge. When you had gone to do your other duties, you were waved off, confused as to why – they had told you someone had already done it all for you. 

You were practically already done with your work for the whole day, you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew who had done half the work load for you. When you went to confront DogDay, he had admitted under the weight of your glare, saying he had done the other 50% of your work because you were sick. You were surprised to say the least, touched at the thought he did it because he knew you were sick. But you never told him, which raised a few brows from you.

“Aha, angel.. Dogs can be good at noticing things better than humans normally do.” He said with a tinge of nervousness. You sighed, walking up to hug him despite the vast differences in size that was comparable between you and DogDay. He was elated to know you weren’t angry, bending down to hug you, finally he had you trapped. DogDay picked you up, which had elicited a yelp from you, feeling he had now carried you bridal-style. 

DogDay had insisted you needed rest, taking you with him as you relented to his insistence. Truly he was a leader and a friend till the end. 

Both –

When the both of them team up, there is no way you are getting away with working while you're sick. They both reassure each other what they are doing is okay, they both care about you very much. CatNap just kind of drags you away, bringing you to his bed while DogDay had walked alongside him, checking your forehead for how hot your fever may be. 

Luckily, DogDay slipped away while CatNap had set you up to be in a comfortable position while you were sleeping. DogDay came back with a bucket of water and a rag to administer to keep your fever down as much as possible. 

With these two, you practically have nothing to worry about.

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

The Addams curse is just the far majority of the family being demi-sexual and insane.

It’s why that although they are a family of powerful witches no one has managed to break the curse. Because no curse was actually cast.

But the legend and subsequent ‘proof’ of its existence has lived on so they all believe it’s true. Most of these ace-spec bitches genuinely believing they’re immune until they fall in love and then they’re like “aha! the curse has struck again!”

Morticia figured this out not long after meeting Gomez’s extended family, but shit stirrer that her younger self was decided to keep that information to herself and played along for her own amusement.

Which has paid off ten fold as she now gets to watch her fiercely independent walking advertisement for the Addams curse of a daughter drive herself mad trying to break the curse after noticing that she’d developed *gasp* feelings for an overtly sensitive, brightly coloured werewolf girl with the personality of a rainbow.

“I’m not in love with Enid. The very idea is ridiculous. I just like looking at her and smelling her and holding her hand and sometimes I fantasise about dying in her warm embrace… But those are just symptoms of the curse, there is no other explanation. I should have taken the warnings more seriously.” - W.A.

Which then leads to six months worth of frequent conversation similar to the following that Morticia will never let go of,

Wednesday: Mother it pains me to say this but I need your help. The curse has me in it grasp and it’s killing me. I cannot focus on breaking the hold it has on me and our family because all I can think about is her… and the way my name sounds upon her sweet lips as if she’s calling me to my own doom.

Morticia, flipping through gothic wedding magazines and trying to think of ways to include pink without making half their family nauseous: Why don’t you take Enid out on a friendly excursion darling. Perhaps if you’re around her for an extended period of time the yearning will wain and you’ll be able to focus on your task more efficiently.

Wednesday: Good idea. I’ll take her for a walk through the cemetery.

Morticia: There are roses in the conservatory I’ve yet to chop the heads off you can bring to her. And don’t forget to tell her she looks pretty or your father will be very disappointed in you.

Wednesday: Obviously. I’m not an animal.

Morticia: And if you feel the need to kiss her I wouldn’t fight it. Who knows what will happen if you do.

Wednesday: Nothing good, I presume. It must be done. Thank you, mother. You’re advice has been satisfactory.

Morticia: Of course, darling. Have an miserable date with your beloved.

[yujinnieswifeu]

can you do one where the reader feels like they have lost their sex appeal and asks a friend for help to understand the situation? (Here my inspo and can you do a g!p too plz)

Pairings: sub!fem reader x g!p dom!wonyoung

Warnings: smut, g!p wonyoung (wonyoung has a dick)

a/n: hi anon! Just wanna say thanks for the inspo, i really like it when people request a plot which you did, and also i rlly hope you enjoy this cause i sure did when i wrote🥹. U didn’t request any specific idol so i just went w wony to complete ot5 and also cause i feel she would fit this inspo the best! (Btw, i recognise the fanart hehe, should i write for genshin too? 🤭)

It has been weeks since you and Wonyoung did that. Every time you try to initiate it, she would decline it, telling you she wants to go to sleep or that she was tired. It has you overthinking, what if she doesn’t like you in that way anymore? Are you just not attractive to her? So many thoughts whirl in your mind and you really needed to let it out. So who else than your bestie? Surely she can help you with this situation right?

。。。(it means time skip)

“I..I don’t know how to tell you this.” You say, feeling embarrass even thinking about the situation you were going through now, your cheeks feeling hot at the thought of telling something so personal to your best friend. But she was the only one who you could rely on whenever you had troubles. “y/nnnn, you better tell me now.” She dragged her words, rolling her eyes in slight annoyance. You had been this way for the past 30 minutes, and Rei was starting to get frustrated she was not able to get it out from you.

“Fine! Ugh, ithinkilostmysexappeal!” The words comes out quickly, the pout on your face as you look at the floor instead, suddenly finding that to be more interesting. The sudden sound of laughter floods the café instead, your head immediately shoots up, looking at Rei who was now laughing. You looked around, seeing some people stare your way and you glared at her. “Keep it down!” You whispered and she wiped the tears that escaped from laughing so much. “I-i’m sorry, i just can’t believe you just said that.” She said, now more calmly as you sighed frustratingly.

“Wony has been ignoring my advances when i try to initiate.” You say truthfully, your brows furrow in thought, your expression showing how worried you were that Rei becomes serious. “And what does she say?” She frowns, her fingers wrapping around the straw as she stirs her drink, taking a sip of it. “She just tells me she does not feel like it, sometimes she says it’s because she’s tired. I’m worried Rei.” You looked at the table as you let out your emotions, and Rei pouts as she stares at you.

“Maybe she’s just tired like she says? Honestly, i know Wonyoung could never stop loving you with how she keeps talking about you.” You looked up at her, tilting your head. “How do you know that?” You were surprised, Rei has never told you stuff concerning your girlfriend before, so it came off as surprising for you. That was until you could see the slight tint of red on her cheeks, a smirk appearing on your face instead. “Rei…don’t tell me…it’s Liz isn’t it?” You squealed, and it wad Rei’s turn to look at the floor, covering her face.

“Aha, i knew it!” You say rather too loud, attracting some eyes at your table once again, and you mutter a sorry in their direction, looking at your friend who only groans. “Yes but i can’t help it when she looks like a teddy bear most of the time!” It was your turn to laugh, but not as loud this time, with Rei quickly bringing you back to the topic at hand. “Anyways, i think you don’t need to worry so much y/n yah, maybe you just need to..up your game?” She raises her brows in a playful manner, which makes you giggle a little. “You mean…dress something that makes her want to do that with me?” She nods her head, and you give it a thought.

Dress something..what always makes Wonyoung go crazy? Your mind reeled with different images of you, and you were sure your face was red. Rei was giggling at your face, taking pictures from her phone as you groaned, trying to snatch her phone from her.

。。。

You were nervous, your heart was racing every millisecond at this point, you looked at yourself one last time in the mirror, the headband rested on your head was one with bunny ears, and you had wore a lingerie with her favourite colour red. When Rei told you earlier to wear something that would make her go crazy, you immediately thought of this since you had wore something similar before and it had made her go feral. You just hoped the outfit you had on would make her go as feral as that time.

Soon you could hear the sounds of keys jangling, the door opening, and her voice ringing throughout the house.

“Baby i’m home!” She had said, and instead of replying or your usual, where you would greet her with a hug, you immediately jumped on the bed, sprawling yourself out instead to look sexy for her. “Babes?” Her voice echos again, and you could hear the door to your shared bedroom open, your heart was racing as she opens the door fully, her eyes immediately on yours as she froze there on the spot. Her eyes were boring holes into your skin, it made you feel naked, the electric feeling running through you. “Welcome home Wony..h-how do you like my outfit? I dressed up for you since you haven’t been giving my body attention a-and though-” She stops your rambling instead by kissing you with hunger, her hands lost in your hair as she slides them down your back, feeling your skin on her fingers as you melted into her, moaning against her lips.

She pulled away, her eyes now a darker shade of brown, as she bit her bottom lip. “My bunny wants attention that bad huh?” There was that nickname, you only whimper at her words, her hand slides up to play at your headband, stroking the ears as her eyes stayed glue to yours. “Fuck..you make me so hard y/n..” She whispers against your ears, her tongue probes out, flicking against your earlobe as she grinds herself against you, making you feel how hard she was and you gasp, your fingers around her back pulling her closer to you. “Y-you feel that bunny?” Panting, she pulls away, giving you a show as she undo her blouse and unclasps her bra quickly, the bra falling off as she throws it somewhere across the room, leaving the blouse on as she knew what it does to you.

Moving next to you, she pats her lap and you get the message, your thighs over hers as you watch her undo her belt. The bulge was already obvious, poking at her pants wanting to be freed of its confinements. It only makes you squirm on her lap, watching her as she finally pulls down her pants, helping her to get rid of it fully as you throw it at the edge of the bed. You stared at her covered bulge again, a damp spot evident on her panties. It makes you bite your lips, and you hear her clicking her tongue. “Eyes up here bunny.” The nickname rolls over her lips, making you whimper again as you look up into her eyes, feeling like a prey as she stares into yours like a predator. “I want to see you bounce on me bunny, you’re good at that aren’t you? You’re a bunny after all” She cocks her head to one side, and you nod your head desperately. The feeling between your legs was uncomfortable at this point, just aching to be filled with her cock.

You feel her pressing her fingers over your clothed area, the pressure on your clit makes you move your hips, moaning softly for her. She bites her lips, watching you as you masturbate on her fingers, it only makes her harder. She stills your hips with her other hand, sliding your panties to one side, looking down at how wet you are, it almost makes her moan. “Fuck…you’re such a fucking tease huh bunny? Wearing my favourite colour on you..and those bunny ears, you know what it does to me.” She groans, feeling her squeeze at your hip where her hand stayed, before feeling her pull your body closer to her, reaching to take her cock, stroking it and slapping it over your clit.

You gasp, your hands gripping her shoulders as she continues to slap her tip over your clit, making it red and puffy just how she likes it. “So pretty for me, i love you like this bunny..now show me how you bounce on my cock.” She orders, making you whine out. Your hand goes to your panties, wanting to take them off before feeling her hands stop you. “Don’t. I want it on bunny.” She warns, her eyes glaring into yours to not talk back which makes you gulp instead, feeling her guide her tip over your sopping hole. Your eyes rolls to the back when you feel her tip past your hole, the feeling only makes you moan loudly, gripping at her shoulders.

She pulls you down slowly over her cock, letting you adjust to her size before she was fully inside of you. The feeling only makes you whimper, as you start to bounce on her cock. She groans as she watches you move up and down on her cock, her hands goes to your ass, giving them a small squeeze before spreading your asscheeks apart, stretching your hole. It only makes it easier for you to move all the way, the added sensation causes your body to tremble slightly, a shiver running down your spine as you continue to milk her dry.

“W-what a good bunny.” She praises you, pressing her lips on yours as you both make out messily, her tongue slides across your bottom lip asking for access and you part your lips, the feeling of her tongue around yours makes you moan softly, still bouncing on her cock. You could feel her fingers running up your spine, making you shiver as she goes to unclasp your bra.

Pulling away from the kiss, she watches you as you continue to masturbate yourself over her cock, the feeling of your walls wrapping around her makes her moan softly, her hand goes over to your breasts as they shake with each bounce, stimulating them. She could feel your walls tightening around her, making her head tilt to the back as she lets out a throaty moan. “S-so fucking tight bunny.” She groans out, before gripping on your hips, guiding you over her cock.

You could feel your stomach coil, the need to come washes over you “I-i need to cum please Wony?” You struggle to say, and she holds your hip in place, driving her cock in and out of your pussy instead. You cry out, head lost in her neck as she moves her hips even faster, fucking you roughly, making your eyes roll. “I-i’m going to breed this pussy full of my bunnies, o-oh fuck fuck fuck, cum with me bunny!” Her words only sends you over the edge as you cum all over her cock, your eyes rolls back as you see white, crying out her name as your walls closes around her, feeling her seeds paint your insides white.

She pants softly, your head nestled in her neck as you both take some time to come down from your shared orgasms. “Wow.” She wearily says, her fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. You look up at her, and she smiles down at you. “Finally back to earth?” She teases, and you roll your eyes playfully. “Well no, i’m still in heaven.” You reply, a smile forming on your face and you could see her cheeks turn slightly red. It was like a whole different demeanour from when she fucked you, but you liked it either way.

“You going to tell me why you dressed up as a bunny now?” She changes the topic, and it makes you bite your bottom lip nervously. “I just…just thought that i lost my sex appeal.” You tell her truthfully, and her brows furrows in thought, thinking back on how she has been the past few days, the realisation hits her and she sighs. “Baby, look at me.” She says, making you look up into her eyes and she cups your cheeks in her palms. “I’m sorry, i didn’t notice i was neglecting my poor bunny, but i swear i still love you okay? I’ve just been really busy with work and just want to sleep each time i hit the bed.” She pouts, her eyes now looking sad as she stares at your face. You gave her a comforting smile instead, before pressing your lips on hers once more.

“And i’m sorry i did not communicate this with you sooner, it was wrong of me too.” She giggles, her infamous grin appearing on her face instead. “Well, i quite like this one though, you looked so hot in that bunny outfit.” She bites her bottom lip, and you only hide your face against her neck, whining for her to stop teasing you. Giggling, she pulls your face to hers, pecking your lips. “I love you my bunny.” She says, her forehead against yours. “I love you too Wony. And we should wash up now.” You were about to pull away before she pulls you back into her embrace.

“No, let’s stay in this position for a while, i like being inside of you my bunny.” She teases, and you knew you had a long night ahead of you.

[krakereir]

My Best Friend's Girl (you're something else) Trafalgar Law x reader

T+/M. Mild sexual content. Masturbation. Themes of adultery. fem!reader

“Again, I’m really sorry about this, Law,” she calls from the other side. “Don’t sweat it. You’re here now, might as well stay. Shachi will be home in a couple of hours.” “I’ll make it up to you somehow,” she says, sticking her head out from behind the door, shooting him a bright smile.  Law nods curtly and locks himself in the bathroom, trying not to think about the fact that he’s totally attracted to Penguin’s new girlfriend.

Law is finally home. He kicks off his shoes, hangs his key on the wall and sighs out. Shachi is still at work. Penguin’s on a work-trip.

Peace and quiet. 

Under his arm is the World Economic Journal, which he is looking forward to skimming through impatiently before skipping straight to the newest strips of Sora. Then he’ll make a cup of coffee and read the whole paper through in the comfort of his favourite chair by the window. For dinner he’s gonna make shakshouka over rice and then afterwards he’ll maybe open the bottle of wine he’s been meaning to try.

But first he needs a shower. Desperately.

He opens the door to the bathroom and is met with the sight of a strange girl looking back at him. She’s standing hunched over the sink, face drenched with water and she looks shockingly ravishing. Flushed cheeks, wet lips, eyes slightly red. Law has to take a step back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, and it doesn’t carry even a hint of the irritation he was going for. She blinks, looking back at him.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, as if that would explain everything. “Didn’t Penguin tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. He said he would tell you. I’m Penguin’s-”

“Aha,” Law interrupts, as it hits him. Penguin’s new girlfriend. “He did tell me about you.” 

The girl lets out a sigh of relief. She grabs a towel and dries off her face. Wow, she’s pretty. Good for Penguin.

“Sorry if I frightened you,” she laughs weakly.

“No worries. Where is he?”

“You just missed him. He left for the airport just now,” she says.

And you’re still here? Law thinks to himself, but knows it would be rude to say it. 

“Pen has a tendency to promise things on behalf of others, I hope he didn’t force your hand. You’re a lifesaver who’s letting me stay.”

“Stay?” Law sputters. “For how long?”

“Oh, no. He didn’t tell you,” she laments. “He promised me it would be fine. I didn’t even believe him at first, knowing how he is, but he insisted! There’s mould in my apartment. I was supposed to stay here for a week.”

A week. A week? Law sees white. What on earth was Penguin thinking when he promised her this?

“I'll find somewhere else!” she says quickly. “It’s no problem.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Law mutters. She looks like a student, there won’t be anywhere affordably decent on that short of a notice. “If he promised you, then he should keep his promise. I’ll give him hell when he gets back.”

“Thank you so much,” she says with a grateful smile. “So you’re Shachi?”

“I’m Law.” 

Her eyes go big.

“You’re Law?” she says in disbelief. “Trafalgar Law.”

“In the flesh,” Law says without a trace of humour.

"Oh my god, I've heard so much about you!" she says excitedly. “Pen said you’d be out of town this week.”

“That’s next week,” Law says.

“That fucking doofus,” she moans, and it makes Law frown.

Penguin absolutely acts like an idiot most of the time, but hearing his totally new girlfriend say it so candidly feels wrong. Penguin had been very excited when he told Law about her.

She walks past him out of the bathroom and into Penguin's room.

“Again, I’m really sorry about this, Law,” she calls from the other side.

“Don’t sweat it. You’re here now, might as well stay. Shachi will be home in a couple of hours.”

“I’ll make it up to you somehow,” she says, sticking her head out from behind the door, shooting him a bright smile. 

Law nods curtly and locks himself in the bathroom, trying not to think about the fact that he’s totally attracted to Penguin’s new girlfriend.

----

All his plans for the night get flushed down the drain. There’s no point in even attempting to uphold his priorly planned out schedule. He no longer feels at ease in the living room, not in the kitchen either. He throws together dinner in a haste and eats at his desk. 

Sometime as he’s hidden away in his room, Shachi comes home. Law can hear him and Y/N getting acquainted in the kitchen and Law briefly wonders if he’ll be able to grab a hold of Shachi when he walks past and ask if Penguin told him about this, but Shachi doesn’t leave the kitchen. Law can hear increasing laughter, voices talking louder and the occasional opening of cans of beer. 

It annoys him greatly that Y/N and Shachi are getting along, putting him in the minority, but he can’t stay in his room all night either. That would be letting them win. He takes his finished plate and brings it to the kitchen.

“Captain!” Shachi exclaims. “Didn’t know you were home. You’ve met Y/N?”

Law finds that a simple nod suffices. 

"We're going out tonight."

“Join us!” Y/N exclaims. Her lips are painted red and she’s smiling wide, showing a lot of teeth, some of them unusually pointy. Law has always liked the feeling of sharp teeth. He likes the stain of red lipstick too. He likes-

“I have work,” he mumbles, putting away his final plate and walking out of the kitchen.

“Really?” Shachi asks from behind him.

“Stuff to read, things to write… you know,” Law lies. He turns around and stops in the doorway, attempting to look apologetic.

“Come on, I bought your favourite,” Shachi says, opening the fridge to show a six pack of Law’s go-to beer. If he wasn’t tempted to stay before, he definitely is now, but Law prides himself on his impeccable self control. It’s going to take more to tantalise him.

“Another time.”

The evening flies by in passiveness. Law continues to hide in his room. The wine stays unopened. Sora remains unread. The World Economic Journal lies untouched. 

Shachi and Y/N seem to be having a blast in the kitchen together. They play music and sing along, laugh and talk loudly. The hope of getting just a slice of the evening he had planned out gets bleaker by the hour and when they finally leave, going out to a club or bar, Law’s too tired to do anything else other than lie bed and think.

Think about Y/N.

It's just a little strange, that's all.

Penguin has never had a real girlfriend before. There was never more than one night stands and an occasional fuck friend and Law had never felt attraction to any of them. It’s an established fact that their taste is very different. They sometimes even joke about it when they’re out drinking. Shachi’s into men, Penguin’s into shy girls with sweet smiles and Law likes the ones that bite a little. The three had lived in perfect symbiosis.

Penguin always goes for girls with low self-esteem. Quiet, sweet, kinda needy. Law never gets to know any of them because Penguin very quickly loses interest and then Law never sees them again. Never has Penguin introduced anyone as his girlfriend before.

Y/N is confident, harder and freer than any of his prior flings, although maybe a bit too harsh on Penguin. In a way she reminds him of Shachi, but no one else is allowed to treat Penguin the way Shachi does, that’s reserved for only him. And on occasion Law. Y/N seems like someone that barges in and takes charge, not only feeling at home, but acting like it too. Unabashed and shameless. She absolutely reminds Law of Shachi.

Shachi and Penguin have been attached to the hip since they met at orientation. It’s no secret that Penguin himself has issues with confidence and that’s reflected in his choice in sexual partners, but when it comes to deeper relations it would make sense for him to fall for someone more like his best friend. Someone who completes him. 

It’s a pity that Law isn’t attracted to Shachi. He’s a great guy and although Law doesn’t actually think that he’s Shachi’s type, he could picture them together in a vague distant reality. Well, maybe not Shachi himself, but someone like him. Someone like Y/N.

Law shakes the thought away. He’s got to stop thinking. It’s 3 am already and he’s yet to get even a half hour of sleep.

----

“I just wish he told me that she was coming,” Law hisses at Shachi. He takes a large gulp of his lukewarm coffee.

“Give it a break. He thought you were going away this week,” Shachi argues. “Honestly I did too.”

“For fuck’s sake, that’s why we have a calendar! So there could be at least an inch of predictability in this fucking apartment. See, I wrote it down months ago,” Law says, pointing at the calendar on the fridge. Shachi raises an eyebrow at him. Law looks at it himself. The blood drains from his face. He’s written down the wrong dates. How did he-

“You were saying?” Shachi says, clearly amused.

“Fuck off, I don’t know how I…,” Law mutters. “I must have- No. They changed the date. That’s it! They changed it and I-”

“And you forgot to change it in the calendar. Well, there you have it. And that’s-”

“But I-,” Law protests.

“-not Penguin’s fault,” Shachi says with a smirk.

“I can’t believe it. What has become of me?”

“Fucking drama queen,” Shachi laughs.

Law has his little frustrated outburst and then he sighs deeply. 

“He should have told me even so. Doesn’t matter that he thought I was gonna be gone,” Law says sourly. Shachi hums in agreement.

“He told me like three days ago, I think it was a last minute emergency,” he says with a shrug.

“She’s not what I pictured,” Law admits.

“No, yeah, I get it. They’re different,” Shachi says. “She’s actually cool though, I think the two of you would get along. You should take this chance to get to know her, Lord knows Penguin’s not gonna let her around you again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that he was okay with letting her stay when he didn’t know you’d be home and he won’t be pleased to find out.”

“What the fuck, Shachi?”

“Come on. Don’t take it personally, you know how he can get-”

“Morning!” 

“Good morning, Y/N!” Shachi says brightly and turns to the door opening where Y/N has appeared, only dressed in a loose bathrobe.

“How much did we drink last night? I have a raging headache,” she moans and shuffles lazily over to the sink.

“You did go all out,” Shachi chuckles. “Do you need anything? Aspirin?”

“I already took one,” she smiles. “It’ll be okay, although I was wondering if you guys could recommend some cafes nearby? Somewhere you can bring a laptop preferably.”

“You should go with Law! He’s currently writing research papers, so he can get you into the university library, the exclusive part of it,” Shachi grins widely. “The little cafe there is the cleanest place around, really.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” she says to Law. “Any old cafe is fine really.”

“It’s no trouble, you can come with,” Law says, surprising himself. He never agrees to bring Shachi and Penguin around to his temporary office at the university, but a part of him is not against flashing his big-shot med-school fringe benefits in front of Y/N, hoping to somehow impress her. Just as friends of course.

“Thank you," she says with a wide smile. "Penguin told me you did residency at a hospital, are you done there already?” 

“No, I still do-”

“Law does both. Simultaneously! Yeah, I know. Smartest guy I know. Real catch this one,” Shachi lays it on thick and Law wants to strangle him. Not only is it fucking embarrassing, it’s also inappropriate. This is Penguin’s girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

“Wow, I’ll take your word for it,” she says to Shachi, but she’s smiling at Law. He looks away.

“I’m gonna take a shower, I’ll leave in 30 min. Be ready by then if you want to come,” he says to the floor.

“Thanks, Law!” she calls out after him.

Before he closes the door to the bathroom he hears the sound of snickering from the kitchen. Fucking hell, are they making fun of him?

----

“So when do you graduate?” Y/N asks. They’re driving to campus in his pre-owned, pale-yellow suzuki. Driving is a hassle because he needs to take the long way around to avoid midtown traffic, but he’s got his own parking, so he won’t complain. 

“I finished med-school last year and now I’m writing a PhD and doing post-graduate training.” Law’s grateful for how easy it is to avoid her gaze when he’s got his eyes on the road, but he still feels the pressure to keep a civilised conversation going.

“Post-graduate training?” she asks.

“The residency,” he explains.

“Ohh, wow. It’s so complicated becoming a doctor,” she says with a small chuckle. “You did 8 years and then on top of that you need more training.”

“Well, some people think it’s better to be over prepared when having the constant responsibility of real human lives in your hands,” Law says. It’s supposed to be a joke.

It doesn’t land at all.

When they get to the university, Law lets her into the small cafe at the bottom floor of his building and says, “I’ll drive back at 3, be ready at the exit by then if you need a ride back. The bus is also quite comfortable.” With that he flees up to his office on the fourth floor.

When he makes his way down to the first floor at 15.00 sharp, she’s not there. It’s a mild disappointment, but it does give him the opportunity to call his favourite person on the way home.

“Bepo, thank god,” Law says when he picks up the phone. “Shachi and Penguin are killing me over here.” 

“Oh, no. What happened?”

“Penguin is travelling for a week and his new girlfriend is staying here while he’s away. I’ve never even met her before and he didn’t bother to tell me she was coming.”

“What? That doesn’t sound like Penguin,” Bepo says. 

Law feels his cheeks heat up, not wanting to admit that he has fair share of blame in the situation. He wants Bepo to be on his side.

“Yeah, it’s weird, but anyway. How are you? It’s been a while,” he says.

Bepo is doing his residency out of town, which is how Law ended up living with Shachi and Penguin in the first place. Bepo used to live here. Law used to live alone. It would be a lie to say he’s never regretted the decision to change that. 

“-but I think they’re warming up to me. Though I can’t be sure. Anyway, I’ll get by,” Bepo finishes.

“Everyone likes you, Bepo,” Law comments casually. It’s really the truth. He can almost hear Bepo blush on the other side.

“But tell me about Penguin’s girlfriend! I didn’t know he had one. I honestly thought he was-” Then he is cut off. 

“Sorry, didn’t catch that last part,” Law says loudly. The car speakers might be going bad.

“I didn’t know he had a girlfriend!” Bepo repeats. 

Law frowns. Bepo thought Penguin was what?

“Law?” Bepo calls out.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Law says, realising he turned quiet. “He told me a couple of weeks ago that there was someone and that he was hoping they would get together. He was really excited about it too. Although pretty shy concerning the details, didn’t want to tell me much. You know how he gets.” 

“Eh, yeah…” Bepo says unsurely.

“You okay, Bepo?”

“Super! Is she nice?”

“Well, yeah. Or I don’t know. She’s kinda mean about Penguin,” he admits. 

“Mean how?”

“Like calling him an idiot and stuff.”

“I see, yeah, that’s not nice.”

“It’s probably fine. He’s a grown up, he can make his own choices. Other than that she seems nice. She's really pretty.” Law winces over the fact that he felt the need to add the last part. It's unnecessary to let others know that he feels this way about her, even if it is just Bepo. 

“What did Shachi do?”

“What?”

“You said he was killing you too?”

“Oh, yeah well… He’s just really friendly with Y/N, and I feel like they’re ganging up on me. It’s nothing big,” he says, pulling up to his usual street parking spot.

“Y/N?”

“Pen’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, weird.”

“Yeah,” Law says.

There’s a pause.

“So, are we still on for movies next week?” Law asks. “I’m staying from Sunday till Thursday. Most nights there’ll be a boring dinner, but I can catch something later in the evening.”

“Yes! Let's see the new Sora movie!”

“Again?” Law asks, as if he wasn’t thinking about suggesting it himself.

“Yes!”

Law laughs and says, “Looking forward to it. I’ll call you later in the week okay?”

“Okay! And good luck with the whole Penguin’s-girlfriend-situation!”

“Right,” Law sighs and cuts the engine.

That night Law goes to bed early. He lies in bed for hours, desperate for sleep to take him away, but sleep doesn’t come. When it’s like this he usually gets up and has a glass of water, a cup of tea, a cup of coffee if there’s really no chance of getting sleep, but tonight he forces himself to lie still and just try. 

Because sleep would be the only thing that could save him now.

----

“Law,” she gasps.

“Yes?”

He looks around, but there’s no one there. He’s in a dark room, a few windows letting in beams of sunlight far up the wall, but they only make the rest of the room feel darker. The ground is dirty and he’s sitting on his knees. He tries to stumble his way up when the voice speaks again. He feels a burst of pleasure brought on by the sound and falls back down on his knees, a slicing pain spreading from his kneecaps down towards his feet.

“Law, do that again,” it begs him. It’s a beautiful voice, like silk, the soft feel of it strokes him pleasantly over his skin.

That’s when he realises that he’s almost naked. He’s wearing clothes, but they’re unravelling slowly, falling apart at the seams. The cold air kisses his skin as it part by part gets exposed. 

“Law,” the voice says again, “I need you to touch me.”

“Yes,” he chokes out. “Where are you?”

Looking around, he still can’t see anyone else, but now the room is dimly lit by an open door letting in heaps of sunlight. It looks like he’s in a prison of some sort.

He’s not able to stand, but he staggers his way along the ground towards the opening. He can feel his clothes fall off him, one by one, and when he reaches the door he must surely be naked, but he doesn’t check.

The door leads out to a green meadow and when he reaches it, he can stand up. He runs out to feel the grass under the soles of his feet. 

He turns and looks back at where he came from and sees that he was inside an enormous, old tower mill. Its long sails are circling in the wind and every time they reach the ground, they’re closing off the entrance from which he just came.

“Yes, that’s it. I’m ready now,” the voice sings in his ear, a lot closer than before and he turns in a whirlwind to see a heap of hay before him and amidst it a naked woman, writhing in pleasure.

“Now, Law,” she orders, opening her eyes to meet his’. 

Law moves over to her and embraces her, sinking into her and she laughs out of pleasure. A melodic laughter that fills the world with sound and he lets go of the noises stuck in his chest. A long satisfied sigh, followed by a short grunt and a-

“Law,” she moans.

“Yes,” he answers. “Y/N, what do you need?”

“More.”

With a shudder it all slips away from him. 

He’s in his own bed, sweaty and alone. He’s achingly hard and instinctively rubs himself to ride the high of the dream.

Fuck. It feels below him having a sex dream, especially about someone he just met and who-

A sound is heard and Law freezes up. No, it can’t be. He must be hearing things, maybe he’s still dreaming.

He hears it again.

A noise that sounds a lot like moaning.

Law’s room is at the end of the corridor and it’s the room that in theory should have the most privacy, but when the assholes who rented out this apartment renovated it, they found that making two rooms out of one would be profitable if they didn’t put too much money into materials. That’s why Penguin and Law’s room is basically the same room only separated by the thinnest of walls, making it impossible not to hear whatever’s going on in the other room at all times.

It’s always been a nuisance, but it’s never been this much of a catastrophe, because Y/N is obviously engaging in some kind of sexual activity and Law can hear it. He would do his best to ignore it, pop in some ear plugs and deny it ever happened, if it weren’t for the fact that the sounds are so delicious. 

It’s crisp, each sound travelling through the thin walls without losing its quality. Law is able to differentiate what sort of actions might have spurred the different noises on, on a detailed level. He can hear when it’s pure pleasure and when it’s an aching need for more. 

He starts imagining what she might be doing. 

The obvious answer would be that she’s alone and masturbating, but what if she brought home someone? Someone who fucks her deep and slow, giving her just what she needs. Law reaches a hand down to touch himself again, but suddenly stops.

She’s with Penguin.

Even if she’s the type of person to do something like that, which he hopes she’s not, Shachi was hanging out with her tonight. He would stand up and put a stop to it before it came to that.

But what if she’s fucking Shachi? 

It’s not believable, but the thought is kind of hot. They’ve been having fun this week. Going out, just the two of them. Maybe the tension became too much and they lost all control.

Once again he’s got to stop his hand from reaching for himself.

Shachi would never do that to Penguin and as long as Law has known him, Shachi has never shown interest in a woman. To think that he would all of a sudden change his sexual preference just so that he can cheat on his best friend is ludicrous. Maybe Law is projecting.

But of course Law wouldn’t do that to Penguin either. Just because he wants to knock on her door and offer up his assistance everytime he hears her making that sound, so close to begging, doesn’t mean he would ever act on it. 

He wouldn’t.

But he’s got to do something. He needs to take care of himself or he will never be able to sleep afterwards. And these sounds are way too good to not take advantage of. Better than any porn. The perfect soundtrack to all his fantasies.

Fuck. 

He spits in his hand.

Yes. 

It sounds like she’s close now, the noises are getting quieter, but are coming more rapidly. It doesn’t take a lot before he’s close too. The dream. The sounds. The fantasy of having her on him, being the one getting her to make these sounds. It’s too much. He comes hard into his hand and can’t stop the groan that follows.

When he comes down from the high it’s suspiciously quiet from the other side of the wall. 

Oh no. 

She must have heard him and now she knows what he did.

He’ll never be able to look her or Penguin in the eyes again.

----

The next morning she doesn’t give him any reason to believe she caught on. If she did, she at least is not intending to make a scene about it. He’s eternally grateful. He can pretend to forget it ever happened if she is willing to do the same. 

Law spends the next couple of days avoiding both Shachi and Y/N like the plague. He works long hours, he eats out, he stays out, he comes home late and leaves early in the morning.

By the end of the week he’s fucking exhausted, but he’s managed to keep himself out of any inappropriate situations, with absolutely no help from Shachi, who must have noticed Law’s awkward predicament and has been doing everything he can to put him on the spot. A single day hasn’t passed without Shachi texting Law, asking if he can help drive Y/N somewhere or give her a hand with something else. It's infuriating.

Speaking of, Y/N’s been getting increasingly more comfortable in the common areas, walking around mostly in Penguin’s baggy shirts and shorts. No bra. 

It’s fine. 

He's almost made it to the day of Y/N's departure without embarrassing himself when it all comes crumbling down. 

In the middle of the night, there’s a knock on his door. He opens the door ever so slightly and peeks through.

"What do you want?" he asks gruffly.

It's Y/N holding up a bottle of wine.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

Law gives a wave of dismissal, she did not.

"I was just thinking and, uhm, well I'm leaving tomorrow and I've hardly gotten the chance to talk to you. So, last chance to bond, I guess." She laughs nervously. "I heard you like white wine?"

It hits Law how much of an asshole he's been.

To her it must have seemed like he had no interest in getting to know her at all. Come to think of it, he’s been treating her as if he suspects she’s not gonna stick around. What if Y/N is the love of Penguin's life? And he treated her like garbage just because he couldn’t get over his own crush on her? 

"Yeah, let me just," he says, going back into his room to put on a shirt.

"Wow, those tattoos really are rad," her voice rings way too close and he turns in a whirlwind. He left the door open and she had seen it as an invitation to come in. 

He's about to ask her to leave his room, they can do this in the common area like normal people, but that’s when Y/N sits down on the bed and scoots up to lean into the wall. 

He must have looked pretty appalled because next thing he knows she says, "I’m sorry, are you very particular about your bed? Should I sit somewhere else?"

Law doesn’t say anything because yes he is, but at the same time he really isn’t. And he can’t really ask her to leave his room now without sounding like an asshole, so he joins her on the bed, his heart rate picking up.

She opens the bottle and hands it to him, no glass, no cup. It even has a fucking screw cap. Jesus. To avoid embarrassing Y/N by being a total snob he takes it and takes a sip. 

Fuck, that’s vile. This must be the cheapest riesling available. 

"Shachi did those, right?" she asks, pointing at the tattoos on his chest.

He forgot to put on a shirt. A little late for that now.

"Yeah, he’s a really talented artist," Law says, shifting a little further from Y/N, now that he’s aware of how they’re almost touching. "He doesn’t do a lot of work anymore though. He's a teacher now. PE and swimming."

"He told me," she says, taking a swig of the wine before placing it on his bedside table. "You guys are so cool. I'm glad Pen has friends like you."

The mention of Penguin is enough to get Law to scooch an inch further away.

"Then there’s Bepo, you should meet him too. He lives out of town for now."

"Oh, I've met Bepo!" she says. "Big, blond guy, right?"

"Yeah, how did… when?" he asks her, confused. "When did you meet Bepo?"

"Last fall, I think," she says unsure. "He's great. Are you two close?"

Law can’t make out what to say. This makes no sense. Unless Y/N and Penguin must have been friends a long while before getting together. If that’s the case, it makes him feel even worse.

"I'm sorry I barged in and tried to force this whole thing on you. I just hated the idea of not getting to know you," she says. "You know, Penguin showed me your manifesto."

"My what?"

"Your manifesto? Three years ago, maybe four," she explains further, "you guys were at some party and everyone there were assholes, you got so angry with the world you decided to make a manifesto there and then? And then you-"

"Declared it at the party," Law finishes, wincing at the memory. They had been celebrating exams in the first year of med-school. "I was a fucking nuisance."

"It's a solid piece of work," she says with a chuckle. "Pen took a photo of the napkin you wrote it on and showed it to me that weekend. I thought you sounded like you were just the coolest person ever, so I tried following it for about a month."

Law looks at her, completely horrified. He remembers the embarrassment that is that so-called manifesto.

"Well, most of it," she adds. “Not number four.”

He snort-laughs loudly, remembering vaguely what he wrote and says, “I’m pretty sure I specified that the fourth point is directed at William, so you’re off the hook.”

“You’re right!” she exclaims. 

"I was young," he explains, half jokingly. “Drunk too.”

Her laughter trickles like pearls on a string and Law catches himself smiling. He self consciously rubs himself across his chin, forcing the smile away.

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time, Law." 

"Oh?" he asks, mouth suddenly dry.

She's a lot closer to him now. He can feel his will power is worn thin from all the push and pull through the week. He just wants to accept it. Accept her and take what she wants to give him. It's obvious now that she is coming on to him. This can't be anything else. Her eyes flutter, peeking down at his lips. Her hand is resting on his knee, making small circles with her finger tips. He wants this so badly.

When she leans in he's very close to meeting her half way, but instead he says, "You should go."

"What…? Really?"

"Yes," he says firmly, looking down.

"Okay."

She walks to the door and he follows her out. Before she leaves she grabs his wrist.

"Why?" she challenges him, forcing him to look her in the eyes. 

“I can’t do that to Penguin,” Law explains.

“I thought you wouldn’t care about stuff like that."

“Then you got me wrong, because I do care."

“Come on, what’s really the problem? I’ve heard stories about you and your borderline questionable morals, you know,” she says teasingly, still holding a firm hold around his wrist. “I didn’t think you’d be bothered by silly rules.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” Law hisses, ripping his arm out of her grip. “I still have some dignity left, thank you very much.”

“What? Law, I’m sorry, I didn't mean-” she calls out after him, but he’s already closed the door on her.

What a fucking mess. 

He collapses back on the bed, fighting the urge to groan loudly into his pillow. When he notices the bottle of wine still on the bedside table, he grabs it, intending to drown his sorrows, but then he takes a sip and-

Nope. No chance. That’s the most disgusting thing he’s tasted in a long time. 

Ugh, it's gonna be a long night.

----

Penguin comes back the next morning and Law waits. He hears him leave his suitcase in his room. He waits. He hears him talk to Y/N and Shachi by the breakfast table. He waits. Then he hears the goodbyes, the dangling of keys and the slamming of a door. Only then does he dare to leave his room.

He sneaks into the kitchen, desperate for coffee and freezes when he sees it. Penguin is there all right, but so is Y/N. Shachi is nowhere to be seen. Law has made a grave error.

“Hi, Law!” Penguin says cheerfully. “You’re back early? I thought you would be gone till tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m actually not going until next week. They changed the dates a while back.”

Penguin frowns. 

“Uhu, okay,” he says slowly, “so you’ve been… here, this week?”

Law nods, acting like everything is totally normal.

“Then I guess I won’t have to introduce you to-”

“Yeah, we met-” “We’ve already-” Law and Y/N say simultaneously. 

“Great,” Penguin says, clearly displeased. “Just what I needed.”

“Oh, come on, Pen,” Y/N pleas. “Can you be normal about this?”

Penguin looks at her, then he looks at Law, then back at her. 

“Oh my god, did you guys fuck?”

“What, no!” Law sputters. 

“Please say it wasn’t in my bed,” Penguin moans.

“We didn’t do anything,” Y/N says. 

“You know I don’t trust you an inch, you fucking snake,” Penguin says pointedly at Y/N.

“Ok, I admit I tried to, fucking sue me. But I was rejected,” she spits back at him. 

Law is having real trouble understanding the dynamic of their relationship, but his main priority is to reassure his friend. 

“Don’t worry, Pen. Nothing happened,” he says in all seriousness.

“Thank you, man. I honestly didn’t know if I could trust you on this,” Penguin says.

“Of course you can. I would never do that to you,” 

“I can’t believe you’re on his side,” Y/N sighs. “You’re so immature, both of you.”

“He’s MY friend,” Penguin says childishly.

“Why on earth are you jealous? He’ll still be your friend even if I fuck him, right Law?” Y/N asks, looking expectantly at him.

Wait, what?

“I’m not jealous, is it too much to ask that my sister keeps away from my mates?”

Sister?!

“Yes, it’s weird. You shouldn’t care-”

“Guys, stop!!” Law shouts. 

The two of them stop arguing and look at Law confused, and wow, they kind of do look alike when you think about it. Law is stumbling and has to grab a hold of the chair to keep his balance. He slides down into the seat.

“Hey, you alright there, buddy?” he hears Penguin ask.

“Your sister?” Law asks in a quiet anger. “You never said- I didn’t know you-”

“Law, speak up. What is it?”

“She is your sister?!” Law sputters as he looks up at Penguin.

“Yeah, how did you not know? You’ve been fucking her all week,” Penguin says bitterly.

“Oh my god, he did not-” Y/N butts in.

“ Shush ,” Law almost shouts at them. “You didn’t want us to meet because she is your sister?”

“Yeah, of course, I don’t want my sister to-,”

“I have been beating myself up over this all week, Pen,” Law says angrily, “because I thought that she was- If you had only told me from the start, maybe I would have known she was- And then I wouldn’t have had to…” Law wants to cry. "I've lost so much sleep over this."

“Law! Slow down,” Penguin says worriedly. “Who did you think she was?”

“Your girlfriend, Pen,” Law says bitingly. “You know, the one you told me about three weeks ago. You’ve never even mentioned a sister.”

In the background he can hear Y/N laugh quietly.

“Who do you mean my girlfriend?” Penguin asks, confused. 

“Pen, I think he means Shachi,” Y/N says, biting down her laugh.

“No, of course I don’t mean Shachi,” Law says quickly. “I thought you were-” He stops himself and looks at her. “What? What do you mean Shachi?”

“We’re kind of a thing,” Penguin says blankly, looking at Law with unsureness. All annoyance and aggravation seeps out of Law.

“Oh,” Law says simply. “How long has- uhm, since that happened?”

“Couple of weeks now,” Penguin says slowly. 

The two of them look at each other blankly.

“That’s… cool. I’m very happy for you,” Law says honestly, although somewhat strained.

“Thanks man, that’s- that’s very… yeah, thanks."

The silence is weird, mostly because of the big argument that raged on moments ago, which has now fizzled into nothing. Luckily for all of them, Penguin’s phone rings and he walks out of the kitchen to answer it, sending his sister a threatening glare before exiting.

"So you're siblings, huh?" Law asks her awkwardly. 

"Yeah," Y/N says. "I've been abroad a lot, so we don't see each other very often."

"Ah," Law says. 

This puts her actions into a slightly different perspective and Law is embarrassed by his own.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says. "I was mean."

"No, don’t worry about it," she says quickly. "It wasn’t fair of me to force you into that situation."

“Well, but I thought you were… as we already have established that you’re not. And that Pen was… which he isn’t," he says dumbly.

Long silence.

"Yeah, then that would have been cruel of me," she nods.

"It wasn’t on you, you didn’t know.”

“I’m just glad that it wasn’t because you hated me,” she says. “Penguin always talks about you and I was really looking forward to getting to know you.”

“No, not at all, I never hated you,” he reassures her. Memories from the past week come back to him. The looks, the touches, the dream. He feels warmth flooding to his cheeks and neck. 

“I just had a lot of thoughts about you,” he explains, “and I hated myself for thinking that about Penguin’s girlfriend."

"But I'm not," she says slowly, "Penguin’s girlfriend."

"No, you're not," Law says, feeling a smile slowly spread.

"So, what kind of thoughts are we talking about?"

“The bad kind,” he says.

“Care to give me a demonstration?” 

“I thought you knew all about me and my borderline questionable morals?” he asks pointedly.

“Oh my god,” she moans. “You must have thought me the worst person in the world.”

“Only the second worst,” he corrects, “after me of course. I almost gave in to you.”

“Oh?”

They move closer.

“For fuck’s sake!!” cries Penguin from the corridor. “I leave you alone for one minute and-"

Law’s manifesto 1. Fuck those guys who talk down, they’re not worth shit 2. We do it for the kids, not the profit 3. But we do need to live, so fucking unionize 4. Eat shit, William 5. Don’t let anyone treat Bepo like that

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