#yes she kind of sucks especially at first. that’s the point

[candidateofloyalty]

Franziska’s insistence on perfection is an attempt to live up to her father’s legacy despite that legacy being built on lies and ruining countless lives including that of the person Franziska loves most. Accepting that she is not and cannot be perfect is a major step in her development into not only a better person but a happier one. And despite all of this, every time she declares her own perfection my immediate impulse is to agree with her

[threebea]

I was thinking about how the Padawans being part of the war effort DOES suck and kind of bother me, but for some reason I don't really see it as an in universe moral failing of the Jedi.

First I was like: well Star Wars is aimed at kids . A pov character that is a kid makes sense. Especially in the early seasons of TCW and Rebels. This was added in the cartoon and it became part of movie canon after the fact that Padawans held military rank. Suspension of disbelief etc etc.

Then I was like... Wait. Padme was fourteen when she became elected queen, and although it was supposed to be a peaceful rule it got to the point where other fourteen-year-olds became her body doubles in case of assassinations. She also goes and leads an army to take back her planet. At no point was anyone like: you know what you're fourteen you should probably stay at base camp while we do this. We don't actually need you for the storming the palace part.

The GFFA in universe does not place moral significance on it. It isn't weird. If it did there is no way Shmi would have said: yes my nine year old son will do the death race when he doesn't have to even though he has never won or finished before. The plot must allow the gffa to be okay with child endangerment with the good guys still being good guys. No one says Shmi is a terrible mom when she agrees to let Anakin do it. She wasn't being coerced she's just convinced that the only way to help people is to put a nine year old in a death race. In real life if she did that we'd be horrified. And remember Padme isn't bothered because of Anakin's age she's bothered that they're staking everything on a random kid.

So Padawan Commanders makes sense in the GFFA.

Although yeah it makes sense to feel bad about Padawan Commanders in the real world, it also doesn't really say anything about the Jedi and their morality. They're pretty in step with the rules of morality of the universe.

The GFFA has similarities, but it isn't our galaxy.

Would I want children in real life to be trained as Jedi? No. I wouldn't want an eight year old to be trained as crimefighting hero Robin either. It's only when we're looking back at these things through an adult lens and ground fantasy in reality that it becomes a problem.

If you don't want to suspend your disbelief that's fine. But can you make moral judgements on the Jedi without looking at anyone else in the galaxy about this one particular fact? I don't think you can.

I don't know, funny to think about. Especially with the newer media which is aimed at for adults with nostalgia. Then the story does try to seem grounded in reality, but also trying to justify the past where our belief was suspended.

[bangtanintotheroom]

Plug & Play (M)

• Pairing: Guitarist!Hongjoong x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Rock Band!AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 10.3k

• Summary: Tonight is the night that you quit being a bystander and make a move towards the guitarist on stage with the devilish smile.

• Warnings/themes: a rock show!, swearing, drinking, pining, Y/N is a horny bean, Hongjoong and his dangerous smiles 🫠, Yeosang the wingman, flirting, making out, semi-public sex, oral (f. receiving), mentions of oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, fingering, fingers in mouth, finger sucking, protected sex (be responsible!), clothed sex, multiple orgasms

• Notes: SHE’S HEEEEERE 🗣️ the manifestation of my new love for yet another leader hehehehe 😚 I don't have much to say other than thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for doing a look-over, everyone enjoy and think of blond, rockstar HJ the whole time!

• Taglist: @loveateez @mellikestoread @itza-meee @roomsofangel @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @kiestrokes

“I’m gonna fuck him.”

Yeosang stared at you from behind the counter, wondering if he heard you right amidst the clinking glasses and rock music.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m gonna fuck him, Yeo.”

“Who?”

You rolled your eyes, rotating ninety degrees to point at the object of your desire on the stage.

“Him.”

There was little surprise on your end at the scoff you heard from behind.

“You’re still on that mission?”

Your head whipped around incredulously. “Yes! Why are you shocked by this?”

Yeosang’s expression reeked of indifference as he wiped some bottles down.

“Because I thought you would have given up by now.”

“I don’t give up easily, dude—” Your eyes watched as that certain someone tuned their guitar strings. “—especially when I really want something.”

And you really wanted the man you had in your sights.

Your roommate Yeosang worked as a bartender at a small yet intimate venue where many up-and-coming bands liked to perform, in hopes of recognition. He invited you to visit one night, knowing you loved to get a peek at new music. You couldn’t refuse the offer, especially when he snuck you a couple of free drink vouchers.

When you had come by the first night, you were surprised at the amount of people hanging both outside and inside the building. The couple of times you had stopped by previously to drop something off, only half of the room was filled. But this time had attendees hugging the wall and the bar counter, shoulder to shoulder.

Once you managed to reach Yeosang, you waited until he wasn’t scurrying with shot glasses to ask if there was a special occasion. He answered mid-pour and said one of the local bands was playing soon and their loyal fans flocked in when they got word. Leaving him to his work, you melded into the crowd, studying what the demographic was.

The ratio of women to men was in favor of the former, making you wonder just what kind of group was performing tonight.

You got your answer when the lights went down and screams erupted around you, nearly rupturing your poor eardrums. But when the lights came back on, you could see why.

Five insanely gorgeous men were spread across the stage, each with an instrument in their hands.

They all had their own aura, represented by their outfits and the expressions on their faces. Although, there was one in particular that caught your attention.

The one holding a shiny black guitar like it was his child.

His platinum blond hair caught your eye before you took in the rest of him. You liked how the sharp angles of his face had areas of softness that could disarm even the coldest of people. His outfit was flattering and a good balance of comfortable yet showy. But his smile was what nearly knocked you off your feet.

The way his white teeth would often flash while he strummed his instrument had a grin coming up on your own face. You could see that he was someone who cherished his craft by the way he’d keep up with the other members’ pace. And he would never stay in one place; you’d often catch him jumping around on the stage, from standing next to the drummer to nearly teetering on the edge in front of fans.

Plus, he was just adorable. But the cuteness would go into its hiding place at times, leaving a man that began altering your brain chemistry.

Too many times did you find your breath hitching whenever he’d throw his head back, mouth agape as he got into the music, fixated on the drops of sweat rolling down his neck. Or whenever he’d lower his head, looking up into the crowd with the wickedest of smirks that had you fantasizing about a certain position that would grant that view as well.

Before your mind could fully catch up on whatever was happening in front of your eyes, cheers erupted around you. You blinked into reality and watched as the band waved and thanked everyone for attending tonight before making their way off the stage. You were jostled into moving when an attendee bumped your shoulder, shooting an apology to your still form.

Desperately needing to decompress, you ran to the bar to catch Yeosang as he finished making a tray of shots. He could tell by the look on your face that he made a good choice in inviting you out before your mouth began running a mile a minute. You didn’t care if he wasn’t able to hear half of your ramblings, running to continue doing his job as a sudden wave of people came by.

Your excitement had to get out of your system somehow.

But it turns out even that wasn’t enough.

You would keep thinking about the handsome guitarist on a day to day basis, at the most inopportune moments. It didn’t help that you would look up the band’s music online and listen during your commutes and free time. They legitimately made good tunes, playing to their strengths and composing lyrics that wouldn’t escape your head.

Lyrics that were joined by the constant flashing of a devious smile.

And so you found yourself returning to the venue for their next show. To say Yeosang was stunned by your surprise appearance was an understatement. You managed to shrug it off and say that you were starting to become a budding fan of Halazia.

It was technically the truth. He didn’t need to know about your other reason…yet.

With this visit, you were hoping you’d catch the blond doing something that would kill your interest or that your eye would wander onto some of his bandmates instead.

You realized by the end of the performance that it was futile.

Not even the drummer going shirtless halfway through to show off his well-muscled physique could completely distract you from the fully clothed one wailing on his guitar. Trudging out of the building with two cocktails down had you realizing how doomed you were.

When your titillating thoughts started forming into full-blown fantasies, you had to come up with a solid way to get them to disappear. At first, you hoped your hand and a few explicit videos would be enough, but even that got old after a while.

Which led to your current objective as you watched the band continue to set up for the night.

It might be a pipe dream, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried, right?

Yeosang thought it was ridiculous, but never said it was impossible or a bad idea. He begrudgingly supported you from the sidelines, even if he called you crazy at times. A true friend, through and through.

“Oh, don’t I know it. You kept hounding me for weeks to help you put your bookshelf up.”

“And you did such a fantastic job! Shit would have fallen apart if I did it myself.”

Yeosang shook his head at your flattery, yet the tiniest of smiles tugged at his mouth. “Uh huh.”

Giggling, you picked up your glass and finished off the last sip. After you set it down, you sensed a person coming up to stand next to you.

“Yeosang!”

The bartender grinned at them. “Yunho! Amazing job, as always.”

“Ah, stop, you say that every time. Do you mind if I put in an order?”

“Not at all. What would you like?”

Curiosity got the best of you and you looked up to see what this Yunho looked like. Imagine your surprise when you saw the bassist of Halazia standing next to you. Damn, he was tall.

“Two rounds of shots and eight beers, please.”

Yeosang lifted his brow in that fashion of his before replying, “Eight? Not ten?”

Yunho sighed and shrugged. “Seonghwa is feeling fussy tonight and San needs to be able to walk home.”

“Makes sense. Alright, give me a few minutes.”

“Thank you!”

Yunho seemed to notice you watching the conversation now, giving you a polite smile before heading back to his table. Your eyes followed him until he sat down, switching targets to take in the blond man with a megawatt smile next to him. Just watching as he threw his head back and laughed had your heart pumping faster.

You couldn’t hold off any longer. You had to do something tonight.

Your mind began coming up with a plan on how to approach while you turned back around, watching as Yeosang began putting together the drinks.

“Damn, big order.”

“Tell me about it. They must be parched after their performance.”

You studied the two trays as he started filling it with shot glasses and beer bottles, knowing that he’d have to make two trips to get everything there.

…or just one trip, if he had an extra set of hands.

You could see the lightbulb start to flicker on now. A simple yet effective plan to get within speaking distance of the man who had been plaguing your thoughts for the last couple of weeks came to fruition. You committed to your decision just as the bartender finished up the order.

Okay. Showtime.

“Hey Yeo—” Your roommate paused as he was reaching for one of the full drink trays. “—need some help there?”

Yeosang blinked owlishly at your offer.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, Y/N. It wouldn’t be good if you dropped these.”

“Hey now, I used to be a waitress, remember? Come on, it’ll save you some time.”

You watched as he pondered for a moment, grinning in triumph when he nodded.

“Alright, grab one and let’s go.”

A salute was given as you hopped off your stool, carefully reaching for one of the trays and lifting it above your shoulder. Muscle memory took over as you balanced it, waiting until Yeosang came out from behind the counter and led the way. You made sure to not run into anyone and kept an eye out for any sudden surprises, thankful when you reached the table in one piece.

And even more thankful at one of the pairs of eyes that landed on you.

“Our savior!”

The one man you recognized as the lead singer rejoiced as you and Yeosang set the trays down on the table, bringing a giggle out of you.

“Jongho, I didn’t hear water in Yunho’s order…”

Yeosang’s playfully stern tone made Jongho wave a hand in the air. “Water, shmater, we’re big boys! We can hold our drinks!”

“We can, not this one, though.”

The next one that piped up was the unusually beautiful man you saw strumming away at his rhythm guitar, pointing to the pouting drummer who now wore a white tee.

“Hyung, don’t call me out like that!”

“San, we had to carry you out the last time, we’re not looking for a repeat.”

Your focus was now on the object of your desires as he gave San a strict yet concerned look, the expression only making him look even better.

“You won’t, that’s why I passed on the beer!”

The guitarist made an unconvinced sound. “We shall see.”

Yeosang chuckled and interjected, “I’ll bring some water over, just to be safe. Sound good, Hongjoong?”

Now you learned that the man you had been eyeing up was Hongjoong, trying not to stare too hard as he grinned at your friend.

“Definitely.”

He caught you off-guard by shooting you a smile now.

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

Your reaction was delayed, but you managed to give a nod, forcing yourself to follow Yeosang as he headed back to the bar. Only then did you realize you were holding a breath in, exhaling as you leaned on the counter.

“Fuck.”

“I thought you were going to hop on his lap for a moment.”

You shot a scowl at Yeosang as he worked on getting the water together.

“Yeo, I’m not that shameless. I was just…taken aback.”

He looked up to give you an unconvinced stare, paired with a lifted brow.

“Sure, let’s call it that.”

He looked back down in time to miss the middle finger you shot. While he continued, you started reining yourself in from the very brief encounter.

You learned two things; Hongjoong was his name and he was even more handsome up close. Stage lights weren’t over exaggerating his sharp features, his nose and jaw looking like they’d be able to cut glass. His grin was blinding and the teeth beneath them were damn near perfect.

Although, you wished you had mustered enough courage to say something to him.

It would be somewhat awkward to go back empty-handed and start a conversation with him, especially with his bandmates right there. Just because you wanted to get in his pants didn’t mean you wanted to come off as nothing but a groupie to them.

“Here.”

Your thinking was interrupted when two full pitchers of water were placed in front of you, prompting you to look at Yeosang with bewilderment.

“Maybe this time you can actually talk to the guy.”

His suggestion finally clicked, your eyes widening in gratitude.

“I fucking love you, Yeosang.”

He smiled and shook his head, giving one of your hands a pat. “You can tell me through your teriyaki chicken, Y/N. Go on.”

With a megawatt grin and a mental note to pick up some chicken to cook tomorrow, you lifted both pitchers before turning to make your way back to the table. You had to make sure your hands didn’t shake the closer you got, not wanting to spill water on any of the guys.

As soon as you were close enough, you cleared your throat to capture their attention.

“Your water, gentlemen.”

Setting the refreshments down brought a small wave of cheers.

“Thank you! Maybe we can get San out of here in one piece tonight.”

“Aish, stop!” San batted at Jongho’s head, the vocalist dodging as he snickered.

You grinned at the two’s antics, straightening up when you realized something.

“Oh, I should get you guys some glasses. I’ll be right back.”

You quickly turned around and power walked to the bar, asking Yeosang for a small stack of drinking glasses before returning.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks. Are you new here?”

Your head shook at Seonghwa’s question. “No, I don’t even work here. Just helping my friend out while he gets slammed with customers.”

The pretty guitarist smiled softly.

“That’s very nice of you.”

Your cheeks couldn’t help but warm a tiny bit, shooting him the same look. “Thank you. He has to listen to enough of my ranting at home, might as well ease his pain somehow.”

Yunho blinked curiously before asking, “You’re roommates?”

“Mhm.”

He made a sound of understanding, yet another voice cut in before he could say anything.

“Thought you looked familiar.”

You focused your sight on Hongjoong, recognition on his attractive face that had your heart beating a little faster.

“Me?”

“Yeah—” His mouth quirked. “—thought I saw you hanging around Yeosang the last few times we were here.”

Oof. You weren’t sure how to react to him basically saying that he recognized you from afar. It wasn’t a bad thing, at all, considering your end goal, but you were surprised he even remembered with the amount of people in this building.

All you could muster was a scratch of the back of your neck, trying not to fluster further under his gaze.

“Haha, that’s me, always bugging him.”

Hongjoong gave a soft laugh, eyes scrunching in humor. It only made you more bashful, trying your best not to rub the toe of your boot into the ground.

Noticing that Yunho was roped into a conversation with the others now, it left you alone with the lead guitarist.

A window of opportunity!

But for some reason, you couldn’t muster the words to continue speaking with him. Even though he continued to acknowledge you with his gaze, your eyes averted to watch the stage behind the dining tables.

“Hey.”

Your ears perked up, looking down to see Hongjoong eyeing you with curiosity.

“What’s your name?”

A lifesaver.

You had to hold back the large grin you wanted to give, settling for a polite smile instead.

“Y/N.”

He returned your expression, nodding before replying, “Nice to meet you, I’m Hongjoong. Actually, you probably already knew that.”

With a little more confidence, you replied, “I actually didn’t. I’m pretty bad with names, plus I was too distracted by your performances to really focus on that.”

Hongjoong lifted a bleached brow, cocking his head.

“Oh yeah? You like us that much?”

You nodded with little shame. “Absolutely. I’m surprised you guys aren’t a household name by now.”

Hongjoong grinned, although it was paired with a slight flush of his cheeks.

“Stop, we’re not that good.”

“But you are! Look, I’ve been seeing local bands since I was a teen and I can say you guys are one of the best.”

Something a bit sobering slithered in his eyes as he stared you down, lips straight as a line.

“No bullshit?”

Now you managed to keep the gaze steady.

“None whatsoever.”

It was another few seconds before he finally took your compliment, appreciation written all over his face now.

“Thank you, Y/N. We really appreciate it.”

“Of course! I wish I knew about your music earlier—” You frowned. “—I’ve only seen you guys play a couple of times.”

Hongjoong shrugged, saying with more positivity, “A couple is better than none.”

You could see he had a point so you nodded in agreement. But all of a sudden, you wondered if you were bothering him. He had just finished a harrowing performance; maybe he wanted to kick back and relax with his friends, not indulge you with conversation.

“Hongjoong?”

“Hm?”

This hurt to say, but—

“If you want me to give you some space, I can.”

The musician gave you a look that came off as bewildered. “I don’t mind. Unless you have somewhere to get to?”

A hand came up to wave in the air as you placated, “No, I don’t, but I’d hate to impose—”

“Looooving youuu~ Is easy ‘cause you’re beautiful~”

Out of nowhere, singing erupted, prompting both you and Hongjoong to look at the source of the sudden noise. What greeted you had you chuckling.

“Seems like the drinks are already starting to set in.”

The blond’s wisecrack had you raising a brow as you both took in Jongho holding San’s face as he crooned a love song to him and Yunho waving his hands to the beat while Seonghwa pulled his phone out to record the tender moment.

“I can see that.”

Hongjoong scoffed in amusement and shook his head.

“Every time.” He glanced aside for a moment before looking at you again. “Maybe we should move somewhere quieter.”

The suggestion made your heart skip, unaware of what the intentions were behind it.

“Oh?”

“Yeah—” His sudden beam erased any doubt you had. “—I can’t get to know you with all this noise here.”

You uttered a silent thanks to both Yeosang and whatever being resided in the sky for giving you this opportunity. You held back a bit as you grinned and said, “Lead the way.”

Hongjoong was quick to stand up, grabbing his two beer bottles before jerking his head towards the stage. With a quick glance to make sure his friends were still occupied, you began following him. He walked to the foot of the stage and sat his drinks down, using his hands to lift himself and sit on the ledge. You followed suit, taking care to make sure your skirt didn’t ride up, sitting as close as possible without getting in his personal space.

As soon as you were situated, a bottle turned up under your nose.

“Thirsty?”

You blinked at the offer. “You sure? It’s your beer.”

The blond shrugged, wiggling the brown glass a bit.

“My beer, but I’ll make it yours now.”

A chuckle came out as you accepted the drink, peeling off the half-open cap before taking a sip.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. So—” Hongjoong took a sip from his own bottle. “—are you a regular here?”

You shook your head.

“Surprisingly, no. I’ve been to almost every venue in town except for this one. Figured I’d give Yeo a rest from seeing me at home and work.”

Hongjoong snickered, lips curled in humor.

“Understandable. I’m guessing we were your first show here?”

“You were. Have you guys been playing here for a while?”

He hummed, looking up in thought before responding, “Kind of. This was our seventh performance here, but we’ve been playing at other places too. I’d have to say this is the best looking one, by far.”

“Let me guess—” Your mouth twisted up on one side. “—you’ve performed at Miroh?”

The way Hongjoong grimaced was enough of an answer for you.

“Sadly. Never again. Yunho almost got a bottle to the head because his amp was a little too loud.”

“Yikes.”

The two of you decided to move away from the topic of horrendous dive bars and to lighter ones, from behind the scenes knowledge about Halazia to what you did outside of going to concerts. You liked that Hongjoong had an equal part in the conversation continuing, not wanting to come off as desperate and scrambling for something else to talk about.

Not that you couldn’t find anything.

He was rather easy to talk to, paying close attention whenever you spoke and answering your questions with thoroughness. The way he would motion with his hands at certain points endeared him to you, smiling and giggling with admiration at his theatrics. It was also fun just to watch him, in general.

“So how do you like living with Yeosang?”

The subject change surprised you a bit, but you answered after finishing off your beer. “No complaints on my end. Well, except that he can be a space cadet at times.”

Hongjoong snickered over the lip of his bottle.

“Not surprised he’s still like that.”

Your ears perked at his statement, giving him a curious stare.

“Still?”

“Mhm. We used to live together, at one point.”

If you were in the middle of drinking, you would have had to hold back from choking or spitting in shock.

“Really?!”

Hongjoong nodded, lips stretched at your stunned reaction.

“He mentioned having a roommate before me, but I never would have dreamed that it’d be you.”

The musician shrugged and replied, “To be fair, I wasn’t around much. Spent most of my time at the studio or at work. I only moved out when Seonghwa got a spot open at his place.”

Following along with his explanation, you decided to be mischievous and question, “Was it that or did you drive poor Yeo crazy?”

Hongjoong feigned offense, a twinkle in his widened eyes as he leaned back.

“Y/N, are you accusing me of being a bad roommate?”

You couldn’t hold the urge to lightly tap your foot against his, smirking with impishness.

“And what if I am?”

Lifting a bleached brow, the guitarist leaned towards you, making your heart beat quicker with how close he got. Close enough for him to whisper, “Then I’d have to defend myself against that.”

Your eyes remained locked with his, jerking your chin lightly before challenging, “Go on, then.”

Hongjoong seemed pleased with your encouragement, setting his now empty bottle to the side as the gleam in his eye shone brighter.

“I was well-behaved. Kept the place clean, rotated chores, minded my own business. Yeosang almost didn’t want me to leave.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah—” He chuckled. “—gave me the biggest pout when I gave him the heads up. Made me feel like an asshole.”

Your eyes rolled with no hint of annoyance. “Sounds like Yeo. But I guess you really helped take care of the guy, huh?”

“I sure did.”

Hongjoong lightly knocked his knee into yours, but it remained pressed as he purred, “I like to take care of people close to me.”

Whatever wholesomeness that statement would have had was erased by his actions. You welcomed the touch, though. It merely boosted your confidence and will to step closer to your long-awaited goal.

You did your best not to overthink as you gently rubbed the side of your foot on his calf, lips twitching at the subtle shift in his expression.

“What about the people close to Yeosang? Would you take care of them too?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrow ticked at your question.

“Of course.”

Play coy, Y/N.

“It would be nice if I was included too…”

After you trailed off, nothing was said. Only sounds from the rest of the bar came through, various conversations mixing with background music from the speakers. But you weren’t too focused on that right now.

No, you were hyper-focused on the way Hongjoong was watching you.

The way his eyes traveled down your face and over your form let you know that digging in your closet for this outfit was worth it. Everything only became sweeter with what he said next.

“Taking care of you would be a pleasure.”

The heat underneath his words took your interaction to the next level, bringing a light feeling to the base of your gut. Thinking about what ‘taking care of you’ would entail erased the last bit of caution you had.

“Then maybe you can help me with a problem I’ve been having.”

“Shoot.”

You laid one of your hands on his jean-covered thigh, faintly feeling the muscle underneath twitch.

“Ever since I started watching you guys perform, I’ve been wondering something.”

Hongjoong jerked his chin forward, prompting you to continue. Not wanting to take a chance at someone walking up and overhearing at the last minute, you leaned in closer, almost brushing your lips against his ear to breath out, “I keep thinking about what it would feel like to fuck you. Something about you caught my eye from the jump and I haven’t been able to shake the idea. But there’s only one way I can figure it out.”

Your head pulled back enough to get a clear view of Hongjoong’s now intrigued face, shooting the sugariest of smiles at him.

“Will you help me solve my problem?”

Even though it was becoming clear that the blond shared a mutual attraction, a part of you couldn’t help but prepare for rejection. But your fear was allayed when he presented you with a low chuckle, followed by a smirk that was rife with teeth.

“Of course, Y/N. Although—” Now he came close to whisper in your ear. “—I don’t think we’re gonna find out by sitting near all these people.”

The underlying sensuality in his voice brought a pleasant shiver down your spine. Were you actually about to sneak off with Halazia’s main guitarist to help satiate the improper fantasies you’ve been having about him?

Yes. Yes you fucking were.

“Then do you mind if we have some one on one time?”

The hand that reached for your own to take it into a firm grip let you know that you hit the jackpot.

“Not at all.”

You were sure the rest of the guys eventually noticed and picked up on what you two snuck off for, but you couldn’t care less about what they thought. Your wish was finally coming true.

Hongjoong led the way, clearly more familiar with backstage than you were. The two of you passed a handful of workers, the man in front of you giving them polite greetings and acknowledgments. It was nice to see that he wasn’t one of those snobby types of rockstars.

He stopped in front of a door with a sign that said ‘Reserved for Halazia’, going for the handle before turning it and pushing. His hand let go of yours, only to motion you in first with a smile. You gave one of your own and stepped into the room, looking around with curiosity. It was a typical dressing room, nothing too chaotic.

But the best part was that it was empty, perfect for what was about to go down.

“So…”

You turned around, hearing the door shut and lock before Hongjoong approached you, lips curled akin to someone ready to indulge in the sweetest dessert of their life.

“Is this a much better spot?”

Your mouth twisted in humor, nodding as you replied with delight, “Much better.”

“Good.”

The both of you looked into each other’s eyes, bodies thrumming with energy that was ready to be unleashed at any moment. Although, no one made a move for a moment.

That is, until Hongjoong chose to take a step forward, leaving the tiniest of spaces between you two.

Having him so close directly in front of you had even more of an effect than before, his fresh scent invading your nostrils while your heart pumped faster. It got worse when a hand came up to brush some hair behind your ear, his touch making you bite your lip.

Hongjoong noticed your shift and chuckled, “Nervous?”

You shook your head.

“No, just…excited.”

His grin only widened at your admission, sliding his hand down to gently cradle your jaw.

“Same. Didn’t think I’d ever get to be up close and personal with Yeosang’s pretty friend.”

Although you were melting inside at the compliment, your eyebrow raised in amazement.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“So why didn’t you make a move first?”

You hoped to trip him up, but the guitarist didn’t seem fazed, straight teeth almost blinding you.

“I wanted to see how badly you wanted me.”

His low response brought a mixture of exasperation and lust to you, your eyes rolling as you huffed, “You rockstars and your egos.”

Hongjoong laughed at your quip before leaning in to plant his lips on yours, ironically making the first move into what was expected to go down in here. Not a second passed before you kissed back, upping the pace a bit. The two of you got lost in each other until he started walking forward, forcing you to step back to avoid having your toes crushed.

He managed to distract you with his skills as you suddenly felt something hard press against your spine. One of your hands went back to feel a smooth surface behind you, realizing that he had walked you towards one of the vanity tables.

A nip to your bottom lip made you focus on the bigger picture once more, answering back with a bite of your own. The groan that rumbled against you was nothing short of satisfying.

Hongjoong pulled apart to pant softly, “Nice to see you’re not shy.”

You brought a hand to the nape of his neck, absentmindedly playing with the short, blond strands as you queried, “You think I’d be back here with you if I was shy?”

He conceded with an amused ‘no’, allowing you to pull him back in for another kiss. The longer this went on, the warmer you were beginning to get. You skipped on a jacket tonight, leaving you with a thinner, long-sleeved shirt on top, but the leather skirt below seemed to be the cause of your rising temperature.

Time for it to go.

You released Hongjoong’s neck and reached back to unzip your skirt, only to feel his hands take a hold of yours. Lips pulled away to give him a confused stare.

“Uh uh—“ He released you before grabbing onto the hem and pushing it up with a smirk. “—the skirt stays on.”

Well then. Whatever he wants, he gets.

You nodded, bringing your hands away from the garment as further approval. He pecked your lips in gratitude and went for the top of your stockings next, shimmying them down until your boots interrupted the journey. Humming at the inconvenience, he unzipped before sliding them off your feet and tossing them to the side. You didn’t even get a chance to wiggle your toes as he continued relieving you of your tights, letting them join your shoes.

The slightly cool air hit your now exposed legs, but the heat Hongjoong directed up at you next erased it.

“Sit on the table.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his command, bringing your hands behind to hoist yourself onto the vanity. The guitarist was quick to stand and slot himself between your spread legs, taking your mouth in another hungry kiss. Even though he was doing an excellent job occupying you with his tongue, you could feel his fingers run down your hips until he brushed the soft skin of your thighs. You enjoyed the sensations, lulling into a pleasant vibe until he traveled inwards and stroked a finger along the front of your panties.

You felt him hum before he released your lips, giving you one of his sharp smirks.

“I hope you haven’t been like this all night.”

A giggle left as you bucked your hips forward. “I plead the fifth.”

Hongjoong chuckled and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Poor baby. Lemme fix that for you.”

With lightning precision, his fingers dove up to grasp the elastic, tugging the damp fabric down until it was pulled off and tossed to join its friends. The air hitting that area only exacerbated just how wet you were, thanks to the man in front of you. Although, he was swift in covering you with his hand, digits beginning to tease with confidence.

“Oh…”

The soft exclamation left when you felt him travel upwards and circle your swelling clit. He applied just the right amount of pressure to make a pleasant heat begin to form in your belly. Just when you were about to close your eyes in bliss, Hongjoong slid back down to play with your folds, the slickness allowing him to glide with ease.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. All this for me?”

Your reply meant to come out as words, but the way he spread you open made it turn into a positive hum. He chuckled at you, bringing his free hand up to rest a thumb on your swollen lips.

“You like how I’m playing with this little pussy of yours?”

“Yes—”

Hongjoong began stroking his thumb over your mouth, choosing to match the rhythm with the one between your legs, making your eyelids flutter.

“Is this what you thought about every time you watched me play?”

You breathed out, “I don’t know if I should say yes. Your rockstar ego might over-inflate.”

Hongjoong laughed, little offense in his tone. “I wouldn’t mind the push.”

You played as if you were mulling over a decision, trying not to crack the facade at the mild pout on his lips. Just when he was about to ask, you directed a smirk at him.

“This is tame compared to what’s been running through my head.”

Now you captured his entire attention, eyes burning with curiosity.

“Oh yeah? Indulge me.”

This time, you didn’t want to hold back, nonchalance coloring your face as you looked dead into his eyes.

“I’ve thought about how your fingers would feel inside me.”

The image of his digits flying across the fret of his guitar only emphasized your current pleasure, spurring you on.

“Wondered if they’d play me as well as you play your guitar.”

A low hum came from Hongjoong at your words, dark eyes twinkling with sensuality.

“I think I’m answering your question right now, no?”

A sudden strum to your quivering bud followed, making your hips jerk.

“You are—“ It took a second to find your breath. “—but I still have a couple more.”

“Oh?”

It was a struggle to speak past the moans building in your throat as he continued, but you powered through.

“Thought your head would look nice between my legs.”

You wouldn’t call yourself timid at all, but even this was a new level for you. To be so blunt with someone who you had only known for a short time was crazy. But the spark lighting up on Hongjoong’s face took away whatever shock you had at yourself.

“Is that so?”

Your nod brought the most salacious smirk from him. He moved his hands away from your body, disappointment at not having his touch anymore hitting you. But he was quick to bring up your spirits, placing them on your knees before spreading them further. He then dropped down to the floor, gaze still steady as he raised a brow.

“Like this?”

Your pulse spiked at the sight. It was a nice start, but it wasn’t quite there yet.

“Come closer.”

Hongjoong obliged, cheeks nearly brushing your inner thighs now.

“How about now?”

Much better.

“Perfect.”

The guitarist chuckled, blinding you with his smile.

“Good. Now you can sleep at night.”

A mix of a scoff and a giggle escaped, leaning down to give his forehead a gentle poke.

“Thank you for your services.”

“Any time, baby. Although…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes lowered, looking directly at your exposed cunt. “While I’m already down here—”

You had little chance to prepare as he darted forward and ran his tongue over the entirety of you, ripping a hitched gasp from your throat.

Shit.

Clearly the one lick wasn’t enough for Hongjoong, going back in with a few more that had your head tipping back against the mirror. Soft pants left you, morphing into stronger moans when he directed attention onto your clit. You could feel vibrations from him at times, feeling pleased to know that he was enjoying this as well.

“Fuck, Hongjoong—”

He pulled off, lips glistening as he husked, “You taste fucking amazing, baby. Gonna make sure I get my fill tonight.”

Your lower body bucked at his words, shifting forward until your ass nearly went over the edge of the table. The blond shot you a grateful look for giving him more access, hands sliding up your trembling thighs to take a firm hold of your hips before continuing his actions.

You were trying your best to keep your eyes on him the entire time, but he was too damn good.

Certain moves would make you throw your head back, whining as Hongjoong worked you up with his mouth. You got frustrated at one point when your skirt partially obscured his handsome face. A grunt left your lips before you reached down and tugged the offending fabric up even higher, giving you a clearer view of him eating your pussy.

Watching him had you transfixed, seeing his eyes closed for a good moment as he indulged in you. Though they would open up soon, focusing on you with a heat and precision that you’d only see a fraction of while he was on stage. You weren’t uncomfortable with the stare at all.

It turned you on beyond all belief.

Your fingers tangled into his short, blond strands, feeling the slight perspiration on his scalp. Whether it was leftover from the show or because of the current situation, you didn’t know. You gave the lightest of pulls, subtly asking for more.

Hongjoong raised a brow before moving his mouth away, just a few centimeters. He then went and stuck his tongue out, running the flat of it from the bottom of your slit up until he reached your clit, giving it a harsh flick.

“Oh fuck—“

A short chuckle washed over your area before he did the move again. And again. And again.

“You’re gonna kill me, swear to God.”

The musician giggled at your claim, eyes and nose scrunching with humor.

“You’ll live. But in case you don’t—“ You felt something prodding your entrance, looking down to see one of his fingers there. “—I need to see how good this pussy feels first.”

Hongjoong began sliding it in, your grip on your skirt tightening as he stretched you out a bit. He was quick to start thrusting, pausing at one point to curl and search for that sweet spot inside. When you felt him brush against it, you squeezed around his finger, bringing a triumphant smirk to his face.

“Right there, baby?”

“Right there—!”

He paired his cooing with a solid pump into the area, ruining whatever composure you had. There was no mercy as he kept on with the movements, making you squirm on his digit as a ball of pleasure started to form in your gut. Unable to take anymore of his teasing, you pulled his head closer again before pleading, “Keep eating my pussy, please.”

Hongjoong had no qualms about your begging, groaning lowly before diving back in.

The dual sensations of his mouth and finger working together pushed you higher and higher towards a precipice. Your own lips were babbling praises and noises to let him know how fucking good he was at this. He never pulled off to banter like before, laser-focused on your pleasure. All you received were his sharp brown eyes, watching you like a hawk.

Just when you felt yourself getting close, you tugged at Hongjoong’s hair. He pulled off, albeit reluctantly, shooting you a questioning stare. You gave a wobbly grin, bringing him back in until his wet lips were level with your pulsating nub.

“I come easier this way.”

Thankful for your advice, the guitarist winked before giving his undivided attention there. As you expected, your high raced towards you in no time, showing itself as you cried out and clamped down on his still thrusting finger. Your entire body trembled while he continued to roll his tongue over you, hand letting go of his hair at some point so as to not pull any strands out by accident.

Finally, the tremors stopped, making you slump against the mirror like a limp noodle. Your eyes couldn’t help but shut, feeling more tired than content thanks to the good orgasm.

A good orgasm at the hands (and mouth) of Hongjoong.

“You still alive up there?”

The teasing made your eyes open, shooting a deadpan expression down at his beaming face.

“Nope. Died and went to heaven. Murderer.”

Hongjoong cackled at your quip, standing up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ll send my condolences to Yeosang.”

Now you laughed, reaching for the lapels of his star-printed jacket to tug him in for a deep kiss. Your tongue was quick in meeting up with his, tasting the lingering of your arousal. The longer your lips were locked, the faster your desire returned, wanting to take this even further. You needed to see how his cock would feel inside you, fucking you until your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Hongjoong removed his lips to catch his breath, hot puffs of air washing over your swollen ones before he husked, “Satisfied?”

You knew your answer right away.

“Would you be mad if I said no?”

The guitarist’s head shook. “I was hoping you would say that—” He took the chance to come closer, pressing his concealed cock into your bare thigh. “—didn’t want to let you out of here just yet.”

Your mouth twisted into a delighted smirk, pleased at the mutual feeling.

“Good, because I also thought about how it would feel if you fucked me.”

Now that you threw your final thought out into the open, the goalpost looked clearer than ever. Especially when Hongjoong presented you with the slyest grin you had ever seen on him. The ones he would give on stage paled in comparison to this.

“Is that right?”

When you nodded, his hand came up to hold your chin. A thumb tapped against it as he purred, “The feeling’s mutual.”

A peck landed on your lips before Hongjoong stepped away to head to the opposite side of the room where a few duffel bags laid. He began rummaging in one of them, standing once he found whatever he was looking for. That something was revealed to be a condom when he turned around. You were glad he wasn’t averse to protection; as horny as you were for him, your safety came first.

But just as he was about to make his way back, a few knocks came from the door.

Your expressions matched with irritation as you both frowned at the interruption. Hongjoong gave you an apologetic look before calling out, “Yes?”

“Hyung, it’s me!”

Because you were further from the muffled voice, you couldn’t decipher who was there until the guitarist swore quietly.

“Jongho, I’m in the middle of something right now.”

“I know, but I really need something from inside! Can you just grab it for me, please?”

Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as he seemed to debate on telling his bandmate to either leave or give him a moment. He went with the latter as he stomped over to the door, unlocking and opening it enough to poke his head out and avoid Jongho witnessing you in your partially-undressed state.

“What do you need?”

“Hyung, I need some condoms.”

“Why didn’t you pick them up when we were in here earlier?”

You could picture the vocalist shrugging, wide eyes adding to his defensive expression.

“I didn’t think I needed them! But Lia sent me a message a few minutes ago and she lives right down the road, so…”

You heard Hongjoong sigh before telling him to wait one second. He shut the door, turning and mouthing an ‘I’m sorry’, to which you waved him off with little bother. A momentary interruption was better than losing your entire chance.

He ran back to his bag to grab a handful of the foil packets before jogging back to the door, opening it and stretching his arm out.

“Here. Now can you promise you or the others won’t bother me until I come back?”

“Of course, captain! Have fun!”

Hongjoong shook his head at his bandmate’s well wishes, but saw him off with a chuckle and a humored goodbye before shutting and locking the door once more. With a swiftness, he turned and ran back over to you, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

Hongjoong looked grateful for your nonchalance, setting the condom down next to you before shucking his jacket off and tossing it to the side. Your eyes couldn’t hold back from raking over the skin now exposed, toned arms and shoulders causing your mouth to water. Just as you peeped the ink scrawled on one of his inner biceps, he started undoing his pants, bringing your attention to something even more interesting as he lowered them.

He caught your stare, smirking at how little modesty you had before reaching for the foiled wrapper. His hands were steady yet swift as he opened and slid the protection onto his stiff dick. As soon as he finished, Hongjoong grabbed your hips, tugging you down just enough to rest his tip against the apex of your thigh.

“Ready for me, beautiful?”

With little apprehension, you reached between your bodies to take a hold of him, lining up with your weeping entrance before giving him a confident nod. As soon as he earned your approval, the musician shifted forward, parting your folds until he started spreading you open. Both of your breaths hitched at the sensation, feeling his ringed fingers dig further into your hips.

“You’re just swallowing me up—“

Hongjoong’s gritted growl made your walls pulsate around his cock for a moment, proving his observation correct. Once he got in as far as you were pleased with, you took a hold of his waist before husking, “Fuck me already.”

A sharp inhale was all you got as you felt him slightly pull out before entering at a quicker pace. The rhythm built up soon enough, giving you the friction you oh so desired.

You were finally getting your wish.

Hongjoong was no slouch in this department, delivering strokes that were the right balance between gratifying and not quite enough. Perfect to have you whining for more a few minutes in.

“Hongjoong, give it to me—”

“Mm? Want me to fuck you harder, baby?”

The hold you had on his shirt tightened.

“Please.”

The chuckle you received had a thrill running down your spine, only to be replaced with a sharper sting as soon as he started plunging into you harder.

“So generous, letting me fuck this pussy how I really want to—”

Between the elevated pleasure and the way he hissed out his words, you were living the dream. You tried to fire back with your own quips, but couldn’t keep up with the way the blond was doing you and staring you down with those dark eyes of his. All you could do to let him know how good you were feeling was to tug him into messy kisses and rubs of your hands along his clothed torso. It seemed to be enough for him, judging by the groans you’d hear or feel.

At one point, Hongjoong pulled away from your lips, his own bearing hints of your smudged lipstick. Your fixation on his appearance was interrupted when he boldly stated, “Wish I could’ve been more thorough about this.”

Your head tilted as you asked, “What do you mean?”

His mouth twisted as if you made a joke, pausing his hips to make sure you focused on what he was about to say.

“I mean, I would’ve liked to do this somewhere a little more private. Because it’s a shame I can’t see all of you right now.”

His admission made your pussy flutter around him, watching as he looked over your still-covered body with heavy and curious eyes.

“Wouldn’t mind having more time to see what else is running through this pretty head of yours.”

He wanted to know what else you would have done with him, huh? There was one little act that you both skipped over, for time’s sake.

“Actually…there’s one thing I forgot to mention.”

Hongjoong’s brow lifted as you took a hold of one of the hands on your body and brought it close to your swollen lips. Making sure to keep eye contact, you rested his index and middle finger on your bottom lip before purring, “I’ve thought about how nice it’d be to suck your dick.”

Before you could get a reaction, you slipped his digits into your mouth, starting to gently suck them as if you were actually carrying out your wish.

The variety of emotions that came over Hongjoong’s face only upped your confidence, bobbing your head carefully to really sell the act. Only then did he finally say something, husking, “Fuck, baby— I’m really missing out right now, huh?”

A wink was what you gave, followed by your tongue beginning to swirl around the appendages, eyes fluttering shut as you pictured a different scenario.

Hongjoong leaning against this very vanity table, pants and briefs pulled halfway down. Watching close as you sat on your knees and worked his cock over with your mouth. You could feel his hips tremble occasionally, surely holding back from the primal urge to fuck into your hot and wet cavern.

But just as you were getting deep into your fantasy, the fingers slipped out of your mouth. Your eyes flew open as you made a mild noise of surprise, only for them to widen at the hungry look on his sweat-beaded face. The same hand was quick to grab your jaw, Hongjoong leaning in so close that you could feel his harsh breath mingling with yours as he hissed, “Next time.”

He didn’t give you a second to process his foreboding words as he took your lips into a starving kiss.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead laid on yours as his hips went up to a reckless pace, burying his cock so deep that your back arched at the sharp jolt of pleasure racing throughout your body. This gave him the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with bites and kisses, pausing at times to growl sheer filth into your ear.

Everything combined had your body giving in to Hongjoong completely, leaning back against the mirror as all sorts of sounds surrounded you.

The slight creaking of the vanity and the jostling of the bottles sitting on it.

The smacking of his damp skin against yours.

How the groans leaving him gradually became tinged with a hint of whining as time passed.

Deducing that he was getting close to his end, you took his hand and slid it between your hips to give him a hint that you needed some help. He was quick on the draw, pushing your hand up as he began circling and rubbing your swollen clit with a saliva-covered fingertip. This only made a long moan escape you, head throwing back as it didn’t take long to catch up with your partner.

“That’s it, baby— Gonna make this little pussy come all over my cock.”

Hongjoong’s thick declaration made your legs wrap tight around his waist and your hands grasp onto the damp skin of his bare shoulders, holding on as he continued transporting you towards your end. You could feel his thrusts become a bit off-centered, but they were still enough for you to enjoy, and more than enough to bring another orgasm.

You announced it through a strained cry of the guitarist’s name, digging your nails into him as you trembled between his tense body and the mirror. It only took a few strokes for Hongjoong to join, swearing through gritted teeth as he plunged into you as far as humanly possible, throbbing as he filled up the condom.

Once the euphoria stopped running through your veins, the urge to slump backwards came strong. You followed your body’s wish, letting out a sigh of fatigue and satisfaction. A soft chuckle sounded near your ear.

“Tell me about it.”

The tiniest of laughs escaped you before taking a moment to simply enjoy the peace in the room. After the two of you got your bearings, it was inevitable that you’d part ways and head home with your respective parties.

But for now, you’d enjoy the way Hongjoong silently hummed into the crook of your neck as you ran your fingers up and down his back.

Yeosang was polishing the last of the clean glasses and talking to San when you strolled up to the bar, a pep in your step.

“Hey guys!”

Your roommate looked up, scrutinizing your appearance with a knowing smirk.

“Well, look who finally returned.”

You waved him off, only to now hear San teasing, “I hope you didn’t wear him out too much.”

A light laugh came out as you grinned at the drummer.

“He’s still standing on two legs, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good, the guys and I decided that none of us should be carried out tonight.”

The two of you giggled before he stood up from his stool, stretching muscled arms into the air.

“I think we should start heading out as soon as hyung is put together, I’m sure the two of you are tired.”

Yeosang shrugged, although you could see the slight lidding of his eyes.

“Take your time, I still have to do an inventory count.”

San shook his head. “No no, you definitely need your rest, it’s been nonstop for you. I’ll go gather everyone.”

You were grateful for his insistence, knowing how stubborn Yeosang could get when it came to his job.

“Thank you, San.”

A soft smile was directed at you before the drummer went off to get all of his bandmates together. Now that the two of you were alone, you spun around and gave your friend a winning grin.

“Mission accomplished, Yeo. And it was so worth it.”

Yeosang flicked a brow up at your declaration while grabbing his tablet to take inventory.

“Please don’t give me details. I still have to work with the guy on a weekly basis.”

“I’m not, I’m not! Just letting you know that I got my wish and now you won’t have to hear your horny freak of a roommate lament on how badly she wants Hongjoong’s dick.”

He shot you an exasperated look, clearly not as enthused about the news as you figured he’d be.

“Excellent.”

Snickering, you gave it a rest, leaving him to his work so the two of you could go home ASAP. You turned to take in the venue, noting the janitor sweeping up the last bit of trash and the busboys wiping down the tables that were sticky with alcohol. A few minutes passed before you spotted Halazia, minus Jongho, emerging from backstage. The men wore varying expressions, but all seemed to have a hint of exhaustion as well.

Although, most of your attention was on one specific member.

Hongjoong looked to be the most energetic of the group, eyes alert and responses swift. You weren’t surprised, considering what the two of you went through recently. It might be a different story when he reached home, though.

After nodding at whatever Seonghwa said, his head turned, blinking as he caught you watching him. A blinding grin was quick to come on before he made a beeline your way, making your pulse quicken. But he stopped next to your sitting figure rather than stand in front of you, his gaze on Yeosang as he typed.

“Yeosang, we’re gonna head out now.”

The bartender looked up, only to refocus on his tablet after giving the other a nod. “Stay safe. Great job, as always.”

Hongjoong chuckled, scratching the back of his neck in slight bashfulness.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you saying that, man.”

“Well, you better. Before you guys get snatched up by some big record label and I’ll need to go through security to speak to you.”

You giggled at his quip, receiving Hongjoong’s eyes now. “He has a point. We might be demoted to fans at this rate.”

The blond’s mouth twisted into a smirk as he continued to look at you, saying, “Oh, I could never forget you guys.”

Thank goodness Yeosang wasn’t paying attention to the way you were being stared down by the man who had his hands all over you not long ago; he definitely would not have let you live it down.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that. Have a good night, Hongjoong, tell the others for me.”

“Will do, Yeosang.”

Hongjoong slipped his hand out of his jacket pocket before holding it towards you.

“Y/N.”

You blinked at the formal gesture from someone who was up in your guts, but brought your own hand up to allow his to take a firm grasp.

“A real pleasure meeting you. Well, officially, I mean.”

A short laugh left as you teased, “Likewise, Hongjoong. I guess we’ll see each other at your next show?”

He kept a hold of your palm as he flashed his perfect teeth and winked.

“Absolutely.”

You almost didn’t want to let go, but you allowed the musician to pull away. But then you felt something odd. Looking at your palm, you spotted a piece of paper, folded over and over until it was a tiny square. Thinking that Hongjoong left something by accident, you prepared to call out until he brought a finger up to his lips.

The motion quieted you when he glanced sideways at Yeosang before looking at the paper and then at your face. With that, he turned and headed towards his bandmates to exit the establishment, leaving you to stare down at your hand.

Whatever he left was meant for your eyes and your eyes only.

Curiosity took over as you carefully unfolded the note. You had to bite back a gasp at what was scrawled inside.

‘So we don’t have to wait for the next show to meet up’

xxx-xxxx

Fuck!

You almost slipped and swore out loud, but managed to hold it in. Peeking at your friend to make sure he was still occupied, you stared at Hongjoong’s neat writing, processing this new info.

He actually gave you his number! Was this how groupies felt? Or were you a step above them?

Either way, this was an unexpected development. It was luck that you were able to get close enough to Hongjoong to sleep with him, but to get this as well felt like a miracle.

“Hey.”

You swiftly brought the paper down to your lap as you peered up to see Yeosang, hands now free from the tablet.

“Are you ready to go?”

With a smile that might have been a little too enthusiastic, you nodded, slipping the note into your pocket.

“Absolutely.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You try to keep it together as much as you can in Annapolis, but that's easier said than done. Bradley realizes that while this week feels unbearable, a deployment would be much worse. And you cautiously tell Bradley there are two people you think should be the first ones to know about the baby.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Monday morning came way too early on the east coast, especially when you barely slept and couldn't stop throwing up. "Why?" you groaned from your spot on the floor next to the toilet. You had exactly three hours until you had to give your presentation at 10:00, but Cat was already texting you from her hotel room across the hallway about getting breakfast. You'd be lucky if you could stomach a single peanut butter cracker and squeeze yourself into your uniform on time. 

You crawled back out to the bedroom and rummaged in your suitcase for one of the ginger candies Bradley packed for you. It couldn't hurt at this point, so you shoved it in your mouth and pulled yourself up onto the bed. It was amazing that you could possibly feel this shitty. Your ribs and back hurt from constantly throwing up, and you were starting to feel dehydrated, but the idea of drinking something was too taxing to even consider.

"Why are you so mean?" you moaned as you rolled onto your side, letting your hand rest on your belly. "I actually love you, and you're being so mean to me all the time. Why?" You sucked on the candy and laughed. "You'll prefer your dad, I can already tell." 

You kind of wanted to call him, but you didn't want to wake him up at four in the morning, so you settled on trying to get dressed instead. It was amazing that you did nothing but throw up, yet you were still all bloated and puffy. Your khaki pants were a little too snug for comfort, but you had no other option at the moment. When you looked at your butt in the mirror, you shrugged. 

"Whatever," you whispered, buttoning your shirt as your stomach growled angrily. "Please, make up your mind," you begged your body as you heard a knock at your door. You pasted on a fake smile and opened it to reveal Cat Coleman looking like a million fucking dollars while you looked like a sewer rat. "Morning," you rasped.

Her eyes went a little wide as she pushed your door open. "Did you not get any sleep? You look awful."

You huffed out a breath, realizing you buttoned your shirt up wrong. "I'm fine," you muttered as you fixed it. "I'm just not quite ready to go yet."

"Yes, I gathered that much," she replied, eying you up and down. "Are you going to be able to present today? Because I can't do this without you."

You shot her a scathing look. "Of course I can present today. I'm fine. Great. Golden." You were in all honesty on the verge of throwing up again.

"Okay," she said with zero conviction. "Well, just knock on my door when you want to grab some breakfast and head over to the Naval Academy."

"Will do," you promised her. As soon as she was gone, you gagged into the toilet one more time before brushing your teeth and putting on enough makeup to hide the fact that it looked like you were going to fall over. 

You felt weak as you tried to eat a pack of crackers so your stomach had something in it. This was a lot easier when Bradley was with you, rubbing your back and holding a glass of cold water for you to take sips from. You moaned softly and fought against the tears. If you thought about him too long, you were going to cry. Or worse... start to get turned on. 

"I don't have time for this," you whined as you checked your phone. How was it already 8:00? Fuck, it was still too early to call Bradley, but now your mom and dad were both texting you to see if you were coming for dinner on Thursday. You knew you were going to have to invite Cat to come with you, since you only had one rental car. The idea of trying to get through the night with all of them was too much to consider at the moment. 

Ignore it. Ignore everything. That was all you could do. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Focus on the presentation. Focus on not throwing up. That was the key.

You knocked on Cat's door, and she opened it immediately, dragging the tub of equipment out into the hallway with her. "It's late, so I figured we would eat breakfast and then head right to the conference?"

"Sure," you replied, picking up one end of the tub. But it really was heavy, and you struggled to get it to the elevator with her. "I'm actually not that hungry, so we can just get whatever you want on the way."

Cat scoffed. "I wanted to eat at Waffle House. I miss Annapolis so much."

Just thinking about the sticky floors and smell of maple syrup was turning your stomach at the moment. "Maybe we can do that tomorrow morning instead? Since we don't have our second presentation until Wednesday?"

"Fine," Cat agreed, and the two of you took the bin out to the rental car. She offered to drive, and you let her. Apparently you fell asleep on the ten minute ride, and she had to wake you up to go through security. "They want your ID card to get through the gate," she said, shaking your shoulder. 

"Oh," you groaned, digging it out of your pocket and handing it to her. 

"Seriously, are you sure you're okay?" she whispered as the guards inspected the car.

"Just jetlag," you promised, resisting the urge to roll down the window and barf. "I'm totally fine. Let's get this show on the road."

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

Bradley poked at his burrito bowl in the cafeteria. Even the green hot sauce wasn't helping his mood since you couldn't actually eat it right now. It was just making him sad. He'd written five pages in the notebook for the baby, but it just made him miss you more. He wondered what you were doing right now. Surely your presentation must be over, but he hadn't heard from you. Maybe you had already checked in with Bickel. Maybe he should go up and talk to your boss and see?

"Wow," Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Focus, Rooster."

"I'm sorry," he replied, trying to give her his full attention. "What did you say?"

"I asked you three times if you wanted to go see the new Tom Cruise movie with me tonight. I have a coupon for a free large popcorn that's about to expire."

"Yes. Absolutely." He'd do anything to keep himself busy this week. "What time?"

"6:30. I'll pick you up so you can call your wife from the car and talk to her before she goes to sleep east coast time."

"Sounds good," he agreed, taking his phone out to let you know about his plans. After work, when he was eating a bowl of cereal for dinner, you finally wrote back. 

Baby Girl Bradshaw: The first presentation went pretty well. Have fun at the movie. I love you.

"That's it?" he asked Tramp after reading the message twice. Nat knocked on the door at the same time he called you. 

When you answered with a soft, "Roo," followed by a groan, he had to take a deep breath.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he headed for the front door to let his friend in.

"No," you moaned. "I had a rough day. I feel disgusting, and now your voice is making me horny."

This was admittedly not the best time for phone sex. He paused as he said, "Nat just got here, but if you need me to cancel the movie plans, I can do that."

"No," you gasped, "don't cancel your plans. Go have fun. We can talk tomorrow."

He shook his head as he said, "I'd rather talk to you now. I'll cancel."

"No! We can talk now. Put me on speaker so I can say hi to Nat."

"Fine," he agreed, unlocking and opening his front door. Tramp made a run for Nat as Bradley tapped the icon for speakerphone and said, "My wife wants to say hi to you."

His best friend took the phone right out of his hand and had a full conversation with you while she rummaged through the refrigerator and helped herself to a seltzer. Bradley stood there as patiently as he could, simultaneously feeling annoyed that you were telling Nat all about your presentation while also feeling relieved that he remembered to hide the ultrasound photos. You and his friend laughed and laughed together, and then he started tapping his wrist to get her to move things along.

"We'll be late," he told Nat, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Here's your husband back," she told you. "Have fun in Annapolis. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone less annoying."

"Don't tell her that," Bradley said as he turned off speakerphone. "Don't listen to her, Sweetheart."

But you were just laughing now as he held the phone to his ear and followed Nat out to the driveway. He had to kick aside so much trash to get in her car, he was about to offer to drive instead, but she was already starting the engine. "This is fucking disgusting," he told her, covering the mouthpiece of his phone. "Clean your shit."

She just tore out of the driveway and said, "Talk to your wife before we get to the theater."

"Are you in the car?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. Unfortunately," he grunted. "Can you tell me about your presentation?"

"I nailed it even though I threw up so much this morning," you told him, but then you moaned. "Am I on speakerphone?" 

"No."

"Bradley! I am so fucking horny, Daddy!" Your voice was extra whiny, and the last thing Bradley wanted was an erection in front of his best friend, but he could hear in your voice how badly you needed him. "I was talking to Commander Patterson after my presentation, and I swear Roo, he asked me if Top Gun aviation was a good fit for me, and all I could think about was your cock the whole time. I even told him that things from Top Gun aviation are a really snug fit for me!"

Bradley felt his cheeks warm up. He had no idea who Commander Patterson was, but he said, "I think Top Gun aviation is the place for you, Sweetheart. Nothing else is gonna fit you quite right."

"Bradley!" you whined, and the sound went straight to his cock as Nat adjusted the air conditioner settings. "Fuck, you remember that time you fucked me in the back of our Bronco after I texted you dirty photos at dinner?"

"Yeah," he grunted, closing his eyes and actually trying not to think about it.

"Remember on our honeymoon when you finger fucked your cum into my pussy and then traced my tattoo?"

He growled out your first name. "I absolutely do, but I think perhaps we should talk about that later?"

"Yes, yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm going to get my vibrators out and listen to old voicemail messages you left for me so I can get off, okay? Have fun at the movie. I love you."

The call went dead right as Nat pulled into the parking lot, and the trash at Bradley's feet shifted as she went careening over a speed bump. He was trying to catch his breath. All he really wanted was a little more information about your presentation and to make sure you and the nugget were okay, but what he got was a semi that he was trying to keep at bay.

"If I get nachos and a soft pretzel and popcorn will you eat some?" she asked as she parked. 

"Yeah," he grunted as he unbuckled his seatbelt. 

"Listen," Nat said as she fixed her hair in the mirror. "I know you miss her, and rightfully so since she's way cooler than you, but if you just give me one word answers all night, it's going to piss me off."

"Sorry," he added, trying to remember how to talk. Right now you were possibly getting off while listening to old voicemail messages that you kept? Of him just talking to you? Jesus, why was that making him so hot?

Nat was glaring at him now. He needed to focus.

"I'm sorry. No more one word answers. Let's go. It's time for Tom Cruise."

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

When you woke up on Tuesday, you were snuggled up and so warm, you reached for Bradley. "Roo?" But when you opened your eyes, you were met with the sterile looking hotel room through your blurry vision. Now you remembered talking to Nat and Bradley on the phone before masturbating and falling asleep. When you sat up in bed, you definitely didn't feel as awful as you expected. And when you eased yourself to standing, you were surprised that your stomach didn't lurch. 

You had one text message from your husband, and when you put your glasses on to read it, you laughed. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: baby girl, i'm going to need you to describe in detail for me exactly how you got off. while listening to my voicemails? please, as much detail as you can. i hope you came hard thinking about me. i love you. the movie was good. i'll take you next week if you want.

You wrote back to tell him that you did in fact come while you listened to a long rambling voicemail he left you a few months ago about how he left the house without his shopping list and made it all the way to Costco before he realized it. "Your Daddy has a nice voice, little nugget," you whispered, pressing one gentle palm to your belly. 

It was 8:30, and you didn't have too much planned for the day other than breakfast at Waffle House with Cat. You had to give another presentation tomorrow, and you were excited to talk to some more superior officers afterwards. You were also supposed to make it to a cocktail hour this evening, but you were planning on ditching it and hoping Cat could network for both of you. It would be nearly impossible to avoid drinking without drawing attention to yourself when there were waiters walking around with flutes of champagne. 

You took a quick shower and got yourself ready, and you tapped on Cat's door. When she opened it, she eyed you skeptically. "You look so much better today. Everything okay?"

"I think it was just the jetlag," you told her smoothly. "Wanna go to Waffle House?"

"Hell yes," she replied, turning to grab her bag. "Hopefully we don't run into my ex or anyone I used to work with."

In all your morning sickness and preparation back in San Diego, you had forgotten that Cat also had roots in Maryland. "If we run into Mike, point him out to me. I'll punch him in the face."

She laughed. "I would personally love to see that."

You drove the rental car through the familiar town to the diner you'd been to many times with Cam when you were at the Naval Academy together. You snapped a picture to send to him before walking inside. Sure enough, the floors were sticky, but it smelled like strong coffee, and your stomach started growling. You silently prayed that whatever you ate managed to stay down, at least until you were alone again. 

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Cat asked you as you glanced at the menu, a little disappointed that they didn't have avocado toast. 

"I thought maybe I would take a nap at some point."

"Oh, that's actually a great idea. I might do that as well. I never get a full night of sleep when I'm home with Jeremiah."

You ordered a stack of pancakes and some bacon and then listened to Cat order the signature waffle. When the waitress wandered away, you asked, "Is Jake watching him this week?" with a little smirk. You already knew he was. Well, him and Hondo both were.

She played with the container of sugar and didn't meet your eyes as she said, "I think this week will make or break my relationship with Jake."

"Why?" you gasped. 

She was quiet for a moment as she glanced out the window. "He practically begged me to let him help watch Jeremiah. So he and Uncle Bernie are sharing duties. I just... know how my uncle feels about Jake. They clash, and none of it is really Jake's fault. I just need to make some decisions when we get back."

Your stomach lurched. "What kind of decisions?"

She shrugged and poked her silverware. "If they can't get along, then I'll have to decide if I can reasonably keep putting everyone through this. I'll likely never be able to afford my own place, and Bernie is the only family I still talk to. But Jake...." She had a dreamy look in her eyes as she said, "I wasn't expecting to ever fall in love again."

The only thing you could think to say was, "He loves Jeremiah."

She didn't humor you with a response. Instead she asked, "Are you planning on seeing your parents while we're here?"

"Yeah," you answered as the food arrived. "About that... you mind if I use the car on Thursday evening? You're more than welcome to join me, but they want me to have dinner with them at home."

"You can use the car all you want," she replied. "And I'll think about it. Thanks." As you were coating your food in syrup, she asked, "Weren't Bradley's parents from Maryland as well?"

"Virginia," you replied immediately. "They were both from the Norfolk area. Nick grew up closer to the beach, and Carole grew up in the city." As you took a bite of pancake, your stomach growled awkwardly, but a warm thought lit up in your mind. "Hey, so you wouldn't mind too much if I actually used the car today?"

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

Bradley was in the air all day on Tuesday, and he kept looking at his little collection of photos longingly. He had one of you from when the two of you were dating. You were mid laugh, face lit up, looking right at him. And then he had a wedding photo as well. It was the one the photographer took where the sun was just hitting the horizon behind you. And now he also had a little stack of ultrasound pictures to look at.

When his comms crackled to life, he tucked the photos away and got himself in position for some tactical dog fighting with Nat and Bob. Bradley loved flying, but more and more he had been considering what might come next for him. One day he could get injured or fail an eye exam. Then what? Other than being home with you and the nugget at that point, he didn't know what else the Navy could offer him.

"Tally, tally!" Bob called out, and Bradley easily dodged the attack. He knew he was good. He knew he was the right mix of cautious and impulsive. He had to be. But there also needed to be more, because if this week was teaching him anything, it was that too many long deployments away from his family would be unbearable. 

When he finally touched down on the runway at 2:30, he was hungry and thirsty, and Maverick dismissed him to the rec room along with Nat and Bob. When he checked his phone, he had a bunch of missed calls and texts from you. 

"Hey, you go ahead," he told them. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright," Bob replied, and Bradley watched them walk inside the tower while he read your most recent message. 

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I have a little surprise for you. Any chance you can facetime?

He had no idea what you could have in mind for him. A little surprise could be anything. Shit, it could be dirty. He glanced around before tucking himself up against the side of the building with his aviators perched on his nose. He dropped his helmet gently to the ground and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as he called you. 

"Bradley!"

Your gorgeous face filled his phone screen, and he smiled immediately. "Hey, Sweetheart. You look pretty."

"Thank you. I feel good today."

"How's the nugget?"

You laughed. "As finicky as ever."

You were obviously outside somewhere, and the sky was cloudy behind you as you walked past some trees. "Where are you? And what's my surprise?"

You bit your lip and looked between the phone screen and something else before you knelt down on the ground. "I just had this silly idea earlier when I was eating breakfast." You tilted the phone away from your face, and then Bradley knew exactly where you were. "But I thought we could tell them the news together? Let them be the first to know?"

He pulled his sunglasses from his face and stared at his phone screen as tears blurred his vision. "Baby Girl," he gasped as he looked at his parents' gravesite. Both headstones were decorated with fresh flowers which you must have just placed there today, and you had tucked an ultrasound photo underneath a few pebbles as well.

"Do you want to tell them?" you asked, your voice just the softest whisper that made him ache even more. 

"Yeah," he managed to say as he fought to keep his composure as a tear slid down his cheek. "Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. That's not just my perfect wife sitting there with you. That's your grandchild, too."

He could hear you laughing and crying at the same time as you rearranged the pebbles. "Still just a nugget right now, but we'll bring him or her back again someday. Right, Roo?" you asked, turning the phone back to your gorgeous face. 

Bradley nodded as he sobbed. "Yeah," he rasped as you smiled at him and swiped at your own tears. "Of course. The three of us will come back together. We can have a picnic. Let the kiddo meet Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose."

"That sounds perfect."

"Hey, Sweetheart?" he managed as he cried. "I fucking love you so much. You know that, right?"

Your voice was still soft, and Bradley wanted to melt into it. "Yeah. I know."

He wiped his cheeks with the rough sleeve of his flight suit as he asked, "You really drove three and a half hours from Annapolis to the cemetery?"

You curled up on your side next to the ultrasound photo as you said, "Yeah. It seemed like a no-brainer. I thought they should be the first ones to know."

"Fuck." He had to fight for composure. "I would marry you a hundred times. A thousand times. I would marry you a million fucking times, Sweetheart."

You laughed softly. "I'd let you."

Those were some of the sweetest words Bradley had ever heard in his life, and you said them as you and the baby were curled up there with the memory of his mom and dad. He would literally never get over how perfect you really were. 

Then you popped up and groaned, "Oh no." And Bradley was treated to the vivid facetime experience of watching you run a few feet to your left before you threw up in the shrubs. 

"Take some deep breaths," he coaxed, just like he would if you were in the bathroom at home. "Do you have some water and the ginger candy with you?"

"In the rental car," you told him as you set your phone on the ground. "I was doing so well today, too."

He didn't want to say it, but he knew this meant the baby was nice and healthy. "Why don't you curl up with Carole again, Baby Girl. She told me she threw up non-stop when she was pregnant. I'm sure she can commiserate."

"Actually, I think I will," you told him when you picked up the phone once again. "I'm going to hang out with my in-laws a little longer. Have a chat about how much I adore their son. Maybe get their opinion on some baby names."

He laughed. "Don't let them talk you into Bradley Junior."

You shook your head adamantly. "I'd sooner allow you to name the nugget Bronco."

"Hell yes!" he cheered. "Bronco Bradshaw is still on the table."

You cradled your forehead in your hand, but you were smiling. "Get back to work while the nugget and I spend some time with your mom and dad."

"I love you more than life itself, Baby Girl."

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

She treats him so well. Fuck, this even made me tear up a little bit. Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose would have been the best. Next we will find out what kind of trouble awaits in Maryland. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 33

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: You find yourself developing a crush on mischievous soccer player Eita Otoya. The only problem? Eita and relationships don’t exactly go hand in hand — which is something you’re only all too aware of, considering he just so happens to be your best friend’s older brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Karasu Version

Pairing: Otoya x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 12.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, otoya is a red flag let’s not lie to ourselves, he’s lowkey ooc at the end, reader says ‘i can NOT fix him’ but then accidentally manages to anyways, otoya plays video games but sucks at them, otoya’s younger sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘otoya’s younger sister’ the entire time), std jokes, your honor eita otoya IS a loser

A/N: yes this is based off the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious. yes this is probably the dumbest otoya fic you will ever read (i promise i’ve written him better before). yes this is four times longer than it was supposed to be. idk what to say either i just get carried away LMAO

On the first day of your first year of middle school, you were told by your teacher to sit next to an entirely disagreeable looking girl. Her round face was adorned with a scowl, and there was a scrape on the bridge of her nose. She had silvery hair cut in a choppy bob, and blunt bangs streaked with green covered her forehead. When she noticed you staring at her in surprise, she made a face at you.

“What do you want?” she said.

“I’m supposed to sit here,” you said. “Teacher said so.”

“Whatever,” she said with a scoff. You gave her an uneasy look as you set your things down beside her, sliding into your chair and watching her out of the corner of your eye. If she noticed, she did not care, gripping her pencil in her hand so hard it was a miracle it did not snap in half, her scowl deepening as she looked over the introduction sheet you all had been given to fill out. 

“I’m Y/N L/N,” you offered meekly, not wanting to accidentally offend her. She seemed like the kind of girl you really shouldn’t mess with, not if you wanted to keep your life and limbs intact.

She glanced at you. “Seiko Otoya.”

“Nice to meet you, Otoya,” you said.

“Seiko,” she said firmly. “Nobody calls me Otoya ‘cause I have two older siblings and it’s confusing.”

“Ah, but neither of your siblings are here, so it wouldn’t be confusing,” you pointed out before you could stop yourself. Seiko gave you an annoyed look.

“So what? Everyone’s been calling me Seiko since I can remember, so if you try to get my attention by saying Otoya I won’t realize,” she said. “What’s your problem with it?”

“I don’t have a problem,” you said, pulling out a pencil of your own and filling out your introduction sheet. Your handwriting was ten times nicer than Seiko’s, you noticed — she had a messy scrawl that was barely legible, especially when compared to your neat print. 

“That’s great to hear, L/N,” she said, shoving her arm over her paper so you couldn’t look at it any longer. “Quit copying me.”

“Of all the assignments to copy on, do you really think I’d pick this one? It wouldn’t even make sense, since all of the information is about ourselves. See, this one asks about our families,” you said, tapping your eraser against the question you were referring to. “It’s not like I would write that I have two older siblings, because I don’t, even though you do.”

Seiko scoffed, puffing her cheeks out and turning back to her work with a pout. “Fine.”

You had been hoping that you’d befriend your desk partner, considering you didn’t know anyone at the middle school. All of your friends from primary school lived across town from you, so they were attending another middle school, which had the unfortunate effect of leaving you by yourself. Unfortunately, it seemed like you were out of luck when it came to making friends with the girl beside you, because Seiko was surly at best and downright hostile at worst.

When the bell rang to signify the end of the first half of the day as well as the beginning of the lunch break, you all but leapt out of your seat, speed-walking towards the cafeteria as fast as you could, eager to avoid another stiff conversation with Seiko. For her part, she rolled her eyes, taking her own time to gather her things and push in her chair, ignoring you completely all the while.

In your haste, you didn’t watch where you were going, and because of your shyly-ducked head, you ran straight into the back of a tall, heavy-set boy.

“What is wrong with you?” he snapped, spinning around to face you. He had close-cropped hair and thick brows, a narrow mouth pressed into a taut line, and a pinched, ruddy face. 

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately.

“You made me drop my chocolate milk,” he said. “Apologize again, and give me money to pay for more!”

“Your chocolate milk is still in your hand,” you said quietly. He glared at you, and then, before you could react, he was unscrewing the cap and pouring its contents all over you.

“Like I said,” he said. “You made me drop it.”

“What — why would you do that?” you sputtered. You had thought that middle school would be much the same as elementary had been, only with different people, but this never would’ve happened, even just last year. You looked around wildly for a teacher, but there were none; though you were surrounded by laughing peers, you realized that you were alone in this hallway, completely and utterly alone. Everyone was laughing at you and milk was dripping down your once-white shirt and you were alone and things could not get worse. 

The boy held out his hand. Things got worse. “Gimme your lunch money, freak.”

You stared at him blankly, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. He tapped his foot, and slowly, when you understood that you had no choice, you reached into your pocket, fumbling around for the bit of change you had brought with you.

Suddenly, someone slapped your wrist lightly — in reprimand, and not hard enough that it hurt, but so that you were startled and ceased your actions immediately. Looking up, you saw it was Seiko Otoya, looking much the same as she had earlier, though her cheeks bloomed with a rose-colored flush as she jabbed a finger at the boy.

“Who do you think you’re messing with, huh?” she shouted, loudly enough that you were surprised no adults were alarmed. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Seiko?” he said. “I didn’t know you were—”

She let out a challenging war cry and then lunged at him. You gasped as she tackled him to the ground and socked him in the nose, looking entirely ridiculous all the while. It was like watching a chihuahua beat up a mastiff; Seiko was tiny compared to the boy, but vicious, not even giving him a moment to breathe as she rammed her fists into his face, over and over.

“Miss Otoya!” an authoritative voice said, cutting through the brawl. “What is the meaning of this?”

Your teacher stood before you, one of your classmates at her side. When Seiko did not move, she yanked her off of the boy, helping him stand and giving Seiko a stern look.

“He spilled milk on L/N and tried to take her lunch money, so I was just trying to give him a taste of his own medicine,” Seiko said with a shrug.

“You should’ve come to me, not taken matters into your own hands,” your teacher said, massaging her temples when she saw the state of your uniform. “Do you have anything to say to this young man?”

Seiko squinted at the boy, his bloody nose and shivering frame, and then she nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go on, then,” your teacher said. Seiko placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry—” she began. Your teacher nodded encouragingly. “—that I didn’t hit you harder. You could’ve gotten surgery and fixed that ugly nose of yours if I had actually managed to break it. I’ll do better next time, promise.”

The boy burst into tears. Seiko was sent to detention, giggling all the while. You were given a new uniform and the knowledge that there was at least this one person in the school who was on your side.

It was only natural that, after such an ordeal, you and Seiko ended up as fast friends. Her gruff exterior never softened any, but you found that she was kinder than she let on, and lonely in her own way.

“I learned that move from one of the wrestling matches my older brother likes to watch,” she explained to you a few days later. “I’ve been itching to try it out, so thanks for giving me the opportunity.”

“Itching to try it out?” you said in wonder, accepting the orange slice she handed you and biting into it.

“You know, I beat up 95% of the boys in my kindergarten,” she said thoughtfully. Despite the far-fetched number, you were inclined to believe her. “I’m kind of the opposite of my siblings in that sense. They’re both super popular, especially my brother Eita, but I’ve never been like that. I’m the sort of person that people generally stay far away from.”

“Well, I’m not staying far away from you,” you said. 

“Right,” she said, cracking her knuckles with a smirk. “Who knows when that guy or his lackeys will come back to take revenge on you? You’ve gotta keep me around for a while, just in case.”

It was the best she could offer in terms of friendship, so you only smiled and said that you would.

You visited her house for the first time the following summer, during that part of the season when the days were long and faded into night so slowly that you could even fall asleep while it was still light out. She invited you in and then immediately tugged you after her, not bothering to offer an explanation, as was her way. You stumbled up the stairs, trying to keep pace as she whipped around a corner and knocked frantically on a shut door.

“What?” a muffled voice shouted from inside of the room. 

“It’s Seiko, open up!” she shouted back. “I have to show you something!”

The door opened to reveal a boy. He was a year or so older than you and Seiko, with a delicate, handsome face and a slender, willowy build. His hair, which boasted the same strange coloring as Seiko’s, fell into low-lidded eyes that narrowed with irritation when they settled upon his younger sister.

“What is it?” he said. “I was in the middle of playing a game with my friends.”

“Look,” she said, placing her hands on your shoulders proudly. “You said you didn’t believe I had a friend, but I do, see? This is Y/N L/N, and she’s here to hang out with me!”

Her brother seemed unimpressed. “Did you have to rough her up a bit or something to get her to agree to it?”

“No!” Seiko said. “She actually likes me, right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you said, confused at what kind of argument you had accidentally found yourself in the middle of. “Um, Seiko’s my best friend at school, and she’s never beaten me up or anything, so…”

“Holy crap, you must be desperate,” he said.

“Hey!” Seiko said, kicking him in the shin. He winced and promptly slammed the door on your faces.

“You suck!” he said. “I have a soccer game tomorrow, so you’re lucky you didn’t permanently injure me!”

“I wish I had!” she said. “Come on, Y/N. He’s a jerk. Let’s go swimming. Did you bring a bathing suit? If not, you can borrow one of mine.”

“I have one,” you said. “Wait, so was that your older brother? The one who watches wrestling matches and all?”

“Yeah, that’s Eita. He’s in the grade ahead of us. I guess you could say we’re closer with each other than with our older sister, since she’s already finished high school, but to be honest, he’s dumb and mean, so we don’t get along very well,” she said.

“I picked up on that,” you said. “He seriously didn’t believe you had any friends?” 

“No!” she said. “I told you back when we first met that he and our sister are super popular and I’m not, didn’t I? The thing is that he’s aware of that, too, and he always teases me for it, so when I told him I actually had made a friend, he acted like I was making it up. That’s why I took you to meet him, but he just had to go and be annoying about it! Ugh. I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“That’s the worst. Oh, and he plays soccer?” you said. She gave you a strange look.

“Mhm, why?” she said.

“Dunno,” you said. “Just wondering.”

Even you weren’t sure why you were curious about Eita Otoya. Your first interaction with him had hardly been memorable, and if anything you should really despise him for being rude to Seiko. But wasn’t it common for siblings to fight? That didn’t mean he was a bad person, did it?

Actually, it was irrelevant. You doubted you would see much of him, so no matter the quality of his character, he wasn’t someone you needed to be thinking of as anything more than your best friend’s brother. Resolving to push it aside, you spent the rest of the summer with Seiko by their pool, eating popsicles and playing mermaids and getting into splash fights and entirely ignoring whatever signs of her brother’s existence presented themselves.

In fact, until you and Seiko began high school, your path hardly crossed with Eita Otoya’s. He was always out with his friends whenever you came over, and the things he preferred to do had such little overlap with yours and Seiko’s interests that it was as if he did not even live in the Otoya household at all. Indeed, you saw more of their older sister, who was already in college, than you did him, and he became nothing but a vague thought in the back of your mind, only considered when you saw a random sock on their kitchen floor or a soccer jersey thrown across the back of the armchair in their living room.

All of this changed when you and Seiko became high schoolers and she joined the swim team. Her practice hours were long and irregular, which meant there were often times that you’d sit around her house, doing homework while you waited for her to come back. Some days she was only five minutes late; others, it was half an hour or more. It was frustrating, but it could not be helped, so you learned quickly that you should bring something to entertain yourself with if you dared to head to the Otoya household on a day she had swimming — which was every day, or so it seemed.

“Hey. You’re L/N, right? Seiko’s friend?”

You were pulled out of writing a history paper by someone speaking to you curiously. When you looked up, you saw that it was Eita Otoya, a brown paper bag in his hands and a friendly smile on his face. He set the bag on the counter and rummaged about in one of their cabinets, pulling out two plates while he gazed at you, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I am,” you said, omitting the fact that you had been coming to his house for years, seeing no merit in bringing it up. “You’re her older brother.”

“Yup,” he said, emptying the contents of the bag onto one of the plates. “I can’t believe you’re doing homework at your best friend’s house.”

“She was supposed to be back half an hour ago, but I think one of her teammates pissed the coach off, so they all got held back again,” you said. “I figured I might as well be productive while I waited for her.”

“Smart,” he said. “Want some?”

He held up the plate filled with churros at you. You furrowed your brow, feeling entirely awkward — this was probably the longest conversation you had ever had with him, and certainly the only one you had had without Seiko present.

“Uh, sure,” you said.

“Good choice, these things are delicious,” he said, shaking his head as he heaped a generous portion onto the other plate. Pulling out the chair across from you, he handed you your plate and then sat down with a dreamy exhale. “I swear they put crack in them or something.”

“It’s possible,” you said, debating whether you should close your laptop before deciding you might as well. It wouldn’t do for your keyboard to get sticky with cinnamon sugar, and it would probably be rude of you to have it out while he was sitting with you.

You both were quiet for a while — you were too unsure of what to say to him, so you opted for silence, and he was distracted with eating his churros and texting someone on his phone. Maybe you should’ve kept your laptop open after all.

“Say, L/N,” he said. “If you were a girl—”

“I am a girl,” you interrupted him, somewhat put-out that he had forgotten that. He rolled his eyes and took another bite out of a churro, chewing and swallowing it before responding.

“Obviously,” he said. “You didn’t let me finish. If you were a girl who was dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?”

“You could’ve just phrased it like ‘if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?’ You didn’t have to specify the ‘if you were a girl’ part,” you muttered. It was a childish thing to be hung up about, but for some reason it really irritated you to think that he thought of you as something other than you really were.

He cocked his head at you, like he was trying to discern whether you were really being serious or not. He must’ve decided that you were, for he chuckled. It was not quite condescending but bordering on it, and it did not improve your mood any.

“Alright, I’m sorry. That’s my bad. Well, if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?” he said.

“I’d be upset and break up with them immediately, duh,” you said.

“Why?” he said.

“What do you mean why?” you said incredulously. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“I’m not sure. No one’s ever cheated on me before,” he said with an impish grin, leaning over the table and snatching one of the churros off of your plate. “That’s why I wanted to know what you think.”

“No one’s ever cheated on me before, either. I’ve never even dated someone. That’s just the kind of thing where you already know what you’d do, though you hope it never happens,” you said.

“You’ve never dated someone? But you’re so pretty,” he said. You coughed, a bit of the churro that you had just swallowed sticking against your throat peculiarly at the compliment, which he had tossed out so casually it was as if he had just been commenting on the weather.

“Thanks,” you said. “Anyways, er, like I was saying — like I was saying, I wouldn’t stay with a cheater. Not ever.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, taking your empty plate, stacking it atop his own, and setting both in the sink. Running his hands under a stream of water so that there wasn’t any residue left on them, he shook his head. “It isn’t that big of a deal, you know. Like, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” you said. “Of course it means something. It means you don’t have any respect for the person you’re dating, and I wouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me, so why would I stay with someone who cheated? Plus, I’m sure you’ve heard what they all say — once a cheater, always a cheater. If they did it before, they’ll do it again.”

“That’s not very conducive to a growth mindset,” he said, patting his hands dry on a red-striped dish towel.

“Maybe not,” you said. “But people who cheat can grow somewhere far away from me.”

“That sounds like my cue to leave,” he said with a two-fingered salute. “I used to wonder why you were friends with Seiko, but to be honest, I can see it now.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he had left the kitchen, running up to his room, taking the steps two at a time. You were rendered absolutely bewildered, your sugary fingers and your unfinished essay and the two empty plates in the sink serving as the only proof that the conversation had even happened in the first place.

“Your brother’s really weird,” you said to Seiko when she got back, smelling faintly of chlorine, though you knew she had already showered at the pool. She cringed.

“Tell me about it. What did he do this time?” she said, pulling a large sweatshirt on, her hair sticking up every which way afterwards.

“He gave me churros and asked me what I’d do if someone cheated on me,” you said. She snorted.

“Sounds like him,” she said. “He’s kind of a serial dater, you see. He doesn’t tell me much, mostly because I’d be seriously grossed out by it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a cheater, too. Seriously, I don’t even know how we’re related. He’s the worst. I’d tell him to stop if I thought that he’d actually listen to me.”

“Oh,” you said.

“Don’t be so gloomy,” she said, elbowing you in the side affectionately. “It’s not like you’ll ever get with him, so why are you worried? I’d never let you date a cheater like that. Seriously, if you ever get a boyfriend—”

“If?” you said.

“You know what I mean. Anyways, like I was saying, I’ll beat him up if he cheats on you, whoever he might be!” she said, flexing her biceps, which were admittedly impressive, albeit hidden by the puffy sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“What if it’s your brother?” you said. 

“Ew, why would it be him?” she said, pretending to gag. “Never date Eita. You deserve way better. He’s like a walking STD, probably. Just being in the same room with him is enough to give anyone herpes.”

“It was just a hypothetical question. And also, don’t you live with him? That’s nasty, do you have herpes, too?” you said. She ran her hands through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it; you reached into your backpack and pulled out a comb, tossing it at her.

“I’m immune because we’re related,” she said. “They only transfer if you have those kinds of intentions, so you’re safe for now, but I’m just saying, he’s a genuine health risk to be around. And to answer your question, yeah, I’d take any opportunity to punch him, so if he cheated on you I’d go at it doubly hard!”

“That makes it seem like I’m more of an excuse for you to mess with your brother than you actually wanting to defend my honor or anything,” you said.

“There’s a bit of both factoring into the decision,” she admitted. “Let’s stop thinking about it, though. I’m feeling itchy in places I should not be feeling itchy at just the prospect of you guys being together.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” you informed her. She stuck her tongue out at you, and the topic was, in turn, forgotten.

For some reason, though, you found yourself showing up at the Otoyas’ house earlier and earlier. Not enough to draw suspicion, but enough that you almost always had at least a couple of minutes there by yourself. Mr. and Mrs. Otoya had long ago grown accustomed to your presence and treated you more like another daughter than anything, so they didn’t find it strange, and Seiko’s older sister had recently moved into her own apartment nearer to her university, so she didn’t even realize that it was happening.

In fact, there was only one consequence to this newfound habit of yours: in the many moments before Seiko returned from her practices, you struck up a friendship with her brother, Eita.

Things were awkward at first, you couldn’t deny it. He didn’t have much interest in you, and in fact it seemed like he only entertained you because it would be even worse if he didn’t. 

“Oh, you’re here again,” he’d say if he got back from soccer before Seiko came back from swimming. “No Seiko?”

“Not yet,” you’d say, a poster board or worksheet or laptop in front of you. “She should be back in a few minutes. We’re supposed to finish this project together.”

“I told her she should’ve picked soccer,” he’d say with a laugh. “We always finish on time.”

“Cool,” you’d say, because how else could you respond? He’d raise his eyebrows at you, and then, if he felt generous, he’d give you a churro. If not, he’d dart off to his room, mumbling some excuse about having to call one of his friends or something, which you never responded to, because it was mostly unimportant to you.

There wasn’t any huge reasoning behind it. Talking to Eita Otoya wasn’t particularly stimulating, and though you certainly found him good-looking, you wouldn’t go so far as to say you had a crush on him. Mostly, you found him to be a bit of an enigma, and if in figuring him out, you got a few churros out of it, then you supposed it was a fair enough deal, but it wasn’t like you were seeking out his company or anything.

Eventually, he seemed to warm to you a bit more, though you were still standoffish, Seiko’s warning ever-present in the back of your mind — the one regarding walking STDs and herpes and whatnot. You never brought it up with him, but that really was the cause of your shyness, not — not anything else. Definitely not anything else. Why would you be shy around him of all people?

“Hey, L/N,” he’d say nowadays, greeting you cheerfully and sitting next to you as you did your homework. “How’re things going?”

“They’re good, thank you,” you’d say, scooting away from him inconspicuously. Herpes. STDs. Genuine health risk. Oh, he smells really nice… 

“I’m doing well myself,” he’d respond, despite the fact that you typically didn’t bother with asking. “Still no Seiko?”

“Nope,” you’d say with a sigh. “Still no Seiko.”

He’d wrinkle his nose. “Damn. Sorry to hear it.”

“It’s fine,” you’d say. “She’ll be here soon, and she’ll probably be full of complaints about her coach.”

“I’d stick around until then, but unfortunately, my PC is calling,” he’d say, or he’d give some other such goofy excuse that was obviously designed to pull a laugh out of you and usually did. “See you around, L/N.”

“Later,” you’d say. “Have fun with your PC.”

It was nice. You wouldn’t say you were close with him by any means — definitely not as close as you were with his sister — but the two of you got along. You didn’t know much about him, and you doubted he knew much about you, but you both could hold enough of a conversation that you began to actually look forward to spending time with him.

Only because he was oddly funny in his own way, and kind of sweet, too. It had nothing to do with how nice his laugh sounded or how bright his grin was or the way he spoke to you, gently but also mischievously. You didn’t even notice these things, not one bit. 

“Y/N!” he said one Saturday, banging into the kitchen excitedly. At some point, you had indeed become Y/N to him, though you couldn’t quite place when that shift had occurred. “No Seiko?”

“She’s at a meet,” you said. “She told me she’d come back once she was done with her races, but she texted me a few minutes ago that her coach is making her stay for the entire thing, and she doesn’t know how long it’ll take. I thought about going home, but then I thought that, since I’m already here, I should just wait for her.”

“I’m surprised you’re not doing homework,” he said, hopping onto the counter, a box in his hands, ostensibly filled with churros.

“It’s Saturday,” you pointed out. “I did all of my weekend work yesterday so I could be free today and tomorrow. Seiko and I were supposed to have a movie marathon, so I didn’t want to be distracted.”

“Supposed to?” he said, wandering around his kitchen, taking out cutlery and plates with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“Who knows when she’ll get back? Hopefully, it’s soon, but I’m sure you’re aware of how random the meet schedules can be, so we might run out of time to have a marathon proper,” you said.

“It’s like I always say,” he said.

“She should’ve picked soccer,” you completed for him. “What makes you bring that up today?”

“Our matches are timed,” he said. “No uncertainty there. Look, forget about that for a moment. I walked past this bakery on my way back from soccer practice, and they were having a sale, so I stopped in. I asked Seiko, and she said you like these. Is that true? Because if she was lying, I’m gonna kill her.”

Instead of churros like you had expected, he was holding a plate of cupcakes, frosted in pastel shades, crystal sprinkles glittering under the ceiling lights. They were beautiful, like little flowers or jewels, and you beamed as he put them on the table and waited for you to speak.

“No way!” you said. “Are these from that place by the park? I’ve been wanting to go there for ages, but their stuff is so expensive that I could never justify it. I can’t believe they had a sale! Thank goodness you happened to walk past. I would’ve cried if I missed my chance to try their stuff.”

“So, as a girl, you’re impressed by this?” he said as you unwrapped one of the cupcakes and shoved it in your mouth. You gave him a surprised look, your chin covered in icing, sweet cake filling your cheeks. He suppressed a laugh, handing you a napkin as you rapidly chewed and swallowed.

“What d’you mean?” you said.

“I’m trying something new,” he explained. “Buying flowers is kinda lame nowadays; plus, if I get cupcakes instead, then I can also have some, so it’s a win-win.”

“I see,” you said, dabbing at your face with the napkin.

“I thought I’d ask for your feedback, since you’re the only girl I talk to regularly. Besides Seiko, obviously, but it’s not like I’m going to ask my little sister about this kind of stuff,” he said.

“I’d say I was pretty impressed,” you said. “However, I would also say you shouldn’t mention that you got them on sale.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mention that to a girl I was actually interested in,” he said. “I just told you because I knew you’d refuse to eat them otherwise.”

“That’s true,” you said. “Buying these at full price would’ve been stupid in any situation, but especially so because it’s not like you’re trying to be nice to me or anything.”

“You make me sound like a villain,” he complained. “I still got them for you, didn’t I? Why does it matter what my reasons were?”

“Your reasons are kind of villainous,” you said. “You got them for me so I could tell you whether your new strategy for picking up girls was a winner or not.”

“I compensated you for your services!” he said. “What kind of villain would do that? By the way, is it? A winner, I mean.”

“I think so, but everyone’s different. It could work with one person and not another,” you said.

“Good enough for me,” he said, patting you on the head. You paid him no mind — not true, even the lighthearted touch made you feel all squirmy and strange — and pulled out your phone, which had just vibrated with a text. 

It was Seiko, and you sighed as you read the message. Eita peered over your shoulder and then hummed sympathetically.

“Ooh, is that Seiko? Yikes,” he said.

‘now the coach is making us all go to dinner as a team :/ we can have our movie marathon another time?? sorry i made you wait and then stood you up.’

A second later, your phone buzzed again. 

‘i feel like eita LMAO omg pls don’t slap me like his last ex did. i’ll make it up to you another time PROMISE!!’

You would’ve laughed, but you felt so discouraged by her earlier text that you could only muster up a half-smile. Eita gasped in offense when he read the second message, drawing back and sticking his nose in the air, folding his arms over his chest.

“I can’t believe she’s airing my business out to you like that,” he said.

“I can’t believe you got slapped by your last ex,” you said, though the words lacked the teasing bite that they should’ve had. He frowned at you.

“Are you just going to go home now?” he said.

“Guess so, since Seiko won’t be back until tonight,” you said. “Oh, well. At least I got cupcakes. I’m sure the girl that you stood up wasn’t so lucky.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he said. “No, she wasn’t.”

“And you claimed you weren’t a villain,” you said, shaking your head in disappointment. “See you later. Thanks for the cupcakes.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then, just as abruptly, closed it again. You arched a brow at him, but he only smiled at you.

“See you,” he said, putting the cupcakes back in the box and handing it to you. “Take these.”

“Don’t you want them?” you said. He had never given you the extras of anything he had ever bought before, preferring to keep them so he could eat them later that night or for breakfast the next day. 

“Nah, I got them for you, so you should keep them,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime,” you said, your fingertips brushing against his as he handed you the box. A burst of static electricity shocked you, and you bit back a hiss as you accepted it from him, not wanting to seem whiny when he hadn’t even reacted.

“Hold on,” he said as you made your way to the door. “Listen, if she stands you up again, I’ll watch the movies with you.”

“Really? They’re not your genre, so I’m sure you’ll be bored,” you said.

“You don’t even know what my genre is,” he said. 

“Maybe not,” you said. “I’ll take you up on that, then, so I hope you meant it.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” he said.

“You’re not half-bad, you know,” you said thoughtfully, tucking the box under your arm so you could unlock the front door. “Seiko always calls you mean, but you’re pretty nice.”

“If she was half as agreeable as you, I wouldn’t have to be mean!” he said. “It’s way easier to be nice to you than anyone else, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that. What even were you to him? Just his little sister’s best friend, or something different? Were the two of you genuinely friends, or were you just the girl he asked for help with his stupid relationships that never lasted for longer than a week? Did he like you? Did you like him? No, of course you didn’t. This was Eita Otoya. You could never like him, not if you valued your friendship with Seiko or the well-being of your heart. You didn’t like him. You didn’t, you didn’t, you didn’t.

“That’s good,” you said finally. “Thanks again.”

“Bye,” he said.

“Bye,” you said, and with a final look at him, you let the door swing shut and turned towards your home.

The next day, you got up early so that you could make it to the bakery before they ran out of their best wares. Eita hadn’t specified how long the sale lasted, and if there was even a chance that it was still ongoing, you wanted to take advantage of it.

Thanks to the odd hour, there wasn’t a line outside of the bakery, and you felt confident as you walked into the warm, dough-scented building. It was airy and bright, flowers and sweets in the windowsill, the display cases well-lit and stocked with a multitude of desserts. Plants hung from the ceiling, and the pale wallpaper was covered with floral motifs, small birds perching amongst the blooms. The bakery itself was so beautiful that you almost forgot what you were there for until one of the employees cleared her throat.

“Can I help you, miss?” she said.

“Hi!” you said. “A friend of mine mentioned that you were having a sale yesterday. Is that still happening?”

“A sale? We don’t do sales here, I’m afraid. Is it possible that they went somewhere else?” she said.

“No, he specifically said the place by the park,” you said, furrowing your brow. “Are you sure you didn’t happen to have a sale?”

“Positive,” she said. “I was working yesterday, too, so if you describe him, I can let you know if he came or not.”

“He’s about this tall,” you said, holding up your hand at approximately Eita’s height. “Plays soccer, silver hair with a green streak—”

“Yes! He came in right around lunchtime yesterday and bought cupcakes,” she said. “Um, is he single, by any chance?”

“As good as,” you said. You had no idea what the state of his romantic life was, but considering how quickly he jumped from girl to girl, there was almost no point in saying that he was taken. “If he ever comes back, feel free to make a move on him. He’d probably appreciate it. Moving on, do you mean to say that he got those at full price?”

“He would’ve had to,” she said. “Like I said, we don’t do sales. We’re not that kind of establishment.”

“I might faint when you answer this, so please be slow and careful when you do, but how much, exactly, is full price for what he bought?” you said. “Out of curiosity.” 

She told you. You did not faint, but it was such an exorbitant number that, for a moment, you really thought you might.

The next Saturday evening, you went to the Otoyas’ with a wad of cash in your hand. Seiko and her parents were away the entire weekend for an invitational meet, but for once, she was not the one you had gone to visit, so this was of little consequence to you.

You rang the doorbell and waited with crossed arms, the humid air oppressive against your skin. According to your weather app, it was going to rain soon, and you pursed your lips at the thought that Eita might not be home and you’d get caught in the downpour with nothing to show for it.

Luckily, the door opened, revealing him standing there in a pair of shorts, his hair still damp and a towel around his neck. You focused very hard on pretending like he was wearing a shirt, even though he was not, and it worked well enough that you could just barely greet him properly.

“Y/N? Hey, I’m sorry you walked all this way, but Seiko’s not home. Did she forget to tell you she’s gone for the weekend?” he said.

“No, I’m here for you,” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“Not like that! I mean, I went to that bakery, and the girl working there told me they never have sales, which means you paid full price for those cupcakes. That’s insane! I can’t accept that,” you said.

“So, what, are you gonna vomit them out at my feet or something? That sounds gross, please don’t,” he said.

“I’m paying you back,” you said, extending your hand and offering him the money. “Don’t even think about refusing. I already feel horrible.”

“No way,” he said. “It was a present. You don’t pay people back for presents, that’s like a faux pas or something. I think. Er, I’d have to look it up to be certain, but I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon.”

“I didn’t even do anything present-worthy, so why would you give me one?” you said.

“Yeah, you did. You helped me out, remember? Gave me advice and all,” he said.

“That was hardly worth all of this!” you said. “Seriously, at least take a little bit.”

“Nah,” he said. “You should come inside.”

“For what?” you said. “Seiko’s not here.”

“True, but I feel bad that you walked for nothing, so it’s the least I can do,” he said.

“It wasn’t for nothing. It was to pay you back, which I will do, and after that I’ll go home,” you said.

“Doubt it,” he said. “Come on, it’s going to rain soon. If you get sick and blame me for it, my sister will kill me.”

Reluctantly, you followed him into the kitchen, hyper aware that you both were alone. It had never been like this before; always, someone else had been in the house, whether his mother or father or one of his sisters. You shouldn’t have cared that it was just the two of you, but you found that you did. It was as uncomfortable and strange as the turbulent skies and muggy atmosphere, but also pleasant in a way, like the sweet smell of yeast in a bakery or flower petals dusting against the crackled tops of sugar cookies in a windowsill.

“Do you like Super Smash Bros.?” he said, taking the towel and rubbing his head vigorously, giving him the frazzled appearance of a hedgehog, or perhaps an electrocuted cat of the cartoonish variety.

“It’s fun, but I’m not that good. Seiko usually beats me,” you said. 

“We can play, if you want,” he said. 

“Okay?” you said. “Why?”

“I’m just trying to think of things that we can do, since you’re here and all,” he said. 

“What were you planning on doing if I didn’t come?” you said.

“I was going to go on a date,” he said. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you actually had plans! I should leave so you can get to that,” you said. He waved you off dismissively, already turning the console on and connecting the controllers.

“It’s fine, I already canceled on her. Hopefully she gets the hint. If I have to spell it out to her that I’m not interested anymore, it’ll be annoying,” he said.

The TV flashed with the starting screen, the music blaring as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, remotes in hand. Outside, thunder rumbled ominously, and you thought that you should probably send your location to your parents so that they didn’t get worried. While Eita messed with the settings, you did that, receiving affirmative responses from both of them in turn — which made sense, as neither of them knew that Mr. and Mrs. Otoya, along with Seiko, weren’t home.

“Do you care what map we use?” he said.

“Seiko and I usually just go random,” you said. “So whatever you want is fine.”

“Random is the best,” he said. “Especially when you get the interactive maps that actively try to kill you. It’s way more exciting that way.”

“Exactly,” you said. Half of yours and Seiko’s matches were decided based on who could adjust to the map faster; sadly for you, this was frequently your best friend, and only very rarely you. 

“What character do you play? I know Seiko likes Palutena, so probably not her, right?” he said.

“I only ever play as girl characters, but my favorite is Zero Suit Samus,” you said, clicking on her and changing her outfit so that it was the burgundy version.

“You only play as girl characters? Why?” he said.

“It’s the best way to bond with your avatar. If you can’t connect with your character, then how can you hope to win?” you said.

“Are you for real?” he said. You maintained a straight face for as long as you could before breaking into laughter. 

“Obviously not. I just like playing as characters I think are pretty, since I don’t have much of a chance at winning either way,” you said.

“That makes sense,” he said. “I play as Sheik. He’s based off of a ninja, so it makes sense.”

It was your turn to give him a strange look. “What?”

“Because we’re descended from ninjas and all, so I have to stick with the theme. It’s like the Otoya brand,” he explained.

“I got that part,” you said. “What do you mean by he, though? Sheik is a girl.”

He paused right before clicking on Sheik, his eyes wide. “No way. He’s obviously a guy.”

“Not so,” you said. “I looked up a list of all female characters in Smash when I was trying to pick a main, and Sheik was on it. She’s Princess Zelda’s alter-ego, apparently.”

“Are you messing with me again?” he said. 

“No, not this time,” you said. He mulled this over before shrugging and clicking on the character’s icon anyways.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m used to her, so there’s no point in changing. Besides, it doesn’t really matter if she’s a girl.”

“Very true,” you said. “Alright, I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Be prepared,” he warned you as he pressed the start button and the screen switched to a countdown. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you said. “Considering how frequently I’m pummeled by your sister, I’m used to losing.”

“Good. Get used to it more,” he said, immediately starting off before you could even orient yourself on the map. “Bang! Gotcha! You really are bad at this.”

“Just as an aside, the TV makes sound effects, so you don’t need to add more of your own,” you said, wrinkling your nose and dodging out of his next attack.

“It makes it more fun,” he said. “You should try it. Really helps you get in the zone.”

“Hm,” you said. “I’ll leave it to you.”

Somehow, you and Eita were actually evenly matched, and during the final round, you knocked his character off of the edge, guarding it until he couldn’t hope to recover and fell to his defeat. 

“Yay!” you said as the victory screen showed your character posing. “I haven’t won in ages! This is awesome.”

“Rematch! You only won because you’re one of those dirty edge guarders!” he said, already setting up the next game.

“‘Dirty edge guarders?’ That’s how the game is played,” you said.

“Nuh-uh, it’s against the rules,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

“No? There aren’t really rules in Smash. How do you not know this? Also, you should really stop saying things when you don’t even know if they’re true,” you said.

“My older sister would always tell me it was against the rules when we used to play,” he said. You waited for it to dawn on him; when it did, he groaned and facepalmed. “She was full of shit?”

“I’m afraid you were, in fact, duped,” you said.

“No wonder she always beat me,” he grumbled. “Whenever I was close to winning, she’d say whatever I was doing was against the rules.”

“That would do it,” you said. “I don’t mind playing again, though.”

“This time I’ll beat you for sure,” he said. “Now that I don’t have to abide by any bullshit guidelines.”

The two of you got wrapped up in a series of matches, eventually turning on the random character selector as well as the random map selector, refusing to read the tutorials so you were really going into things blind and figuring it out as you went. You had way more fun than you had expected you would, and as the evening went on, any thoughts of feeling self-conscious vanished from your mind. It was just Eita Otoya, after all. He was only your best friend’s older brother, the one who brought you treats and played soccer and sucked at Smash and had a childish sense of humor. There was no reason to feel shy. Well, besides the fact that he had never opted to put a shirt on, but that was a non-issue when your attention was focused solely on the screen.

You weren’t sure how many rounds you had gotten through when his phone rang, so shrilly and insistently that he was forced to pause the game and take the call. He didn’t leave his spot on the couch, though, which meant you were able to observe him as the girl on the other end began to scream.

“How could you cancel on me at the last minute?” she said, loud enough that you could hear her, though his phone wasn’t on speakerphone.

“It wasn’t that hard,” he said. “I just texted you and said I’m not going.”

“You’re such a piece of shit. I thought — I thought everyone was wrong about you, but they weren’t. They weren’t at all,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that they were,” he said. “Listen, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now, so could you hurry up and say what you want to say?”

“Did you ever even like me?” she said.

“Yeah, at first,” he said. 

“Not anymore, though,” she said.

“Guess not,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Is that it? You’re ending things just like that? Didn’t it mean anything to you? I bragged to all of my friends about you! You were so sweet, and you even got me cookies…was it all just a game?” she said.

“It wasn’t a game,” he said. “As I said, I liked you back then. I wouldn’t have done all of that if I didn’t.”

“Because that’s supposed to make me feel all better,” she said.

“I’m just explaining myself,” he said.

“You’re the worst. You’re — just, you’re the worst, ugh!” she said before hanging up. Eita made a face at the phone and then put it facedown on the table beside him, unpausing the game without a wasted moment.

“They were from the grocery store,” he said after a bit.

“What?” you said.

“The cookies I got her. Grocery store variety,” he said.

“Oh. That’s kinda shitty,” you said.

“She seemed pretty happy about them regardless,” he said. “I wasn’t about to waste my money when I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“You wasted your money on me,” you pointed out. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

“You’re Seiko’s best friend. I’m pretty sure you’re not going anywhere, so it’s not a big deal. Consider it a peace offering for not believing you were real at first,” he said, landing a combo attack on your character.

“That was ages ago,” you said.

“It’s downright traumatizing for a person when others don’t think they’re real. Fucks up their psyche and whatnot. Acknowledging my mistake was the least I could do,” he said.

“Another fact you just made up?” you said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Was it plausible?”

“Not in the slightest,” you said.

“I tried,” he said. “Woah, nice one, Y/N.”

You had just hit his character in a series of successive blows, entirely by accident but to devastating effect. He lost his first life, respawning in and jumping back to the offensive.

“Why do you even do it?” you said, finally vocalizing the question that had been bothering you for almost the entire time that you had known him.

“Do what?” he said.

“Date people, when you know you’re going to break up with them so quickly,” you said. “What’s the point?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, the glare of the screen reflecting in his fern-colored irises. “It’s always fun at first. I meet a pretty girl, and I talk her into giving me her number. We go on a date or two, and I think it might actually be different this time, but it never is. By the third or fourth date, I’m bored beyond belief and dreading going on another. Then we break up and I do it all again.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you said.

“Near the end, it is,” he said. “But it’s pretty amusing in the beginning, so I don’t see a reason to stop.”

“Do you cheat on your girlfriends?” you said. You knew for sure what he would say, but still, you wanted to hear it from him.

“What is this, interview-Eita-day? Yeah, I have in the past, but only a couple of times,” he said. “Both of them were when the relationships were on their last legs and I couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.”

“That’s callous,” you said. “You should’ve just broken up with them.”

“Dumping girls is the worst. They get all upset and start crying, and I know I should feel bad because I’m the reason, but by that point, I just want to go home,” he said. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“A little bit,” you said. “For the most part, though, I just don’t understand. Why do you keep going for people you know you’re going to get tired of?”

“It’s not like I can look in the future and see that I’m going to end up bored,” he said. “It just happens. We run out of things to talk about and sit there in silence. It sucks. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“How does that even happen?” you said. “You talk all the time with me. I didn’t think you were capable of running out of things to say.”

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m not worried about impressing you — no offense — and you’re funny, plus you like some of the same things as me, so it’s easy to have a conversation with you. It’s not the case when you’re going out with someone. You’ll understand when you decide to date yourself.”

“Don’t the girls you go out with like the same things as you?” you said.

“Not really,” he said. “They think video games are for losers, and they’re too scared to go on the rides at amusement parks. Some of them understand soccer, but not to the point that it’s something they’d want to talk about frequently.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” you said. “You’re only going out with people who you have zero shared interests with. It’s normal that you’d get bored of them, and that they’d get bored in return.”

“You’re thinking too much about it,” he said. “It’s not that deep.”

“That’s how it works,” you said. “Quite fundamentally, actually. It’s impossible to build a relationship with someone when you both have nothing in common. In fact, it’s unfair to all involved parties.”

“Are you trying to give me advice?” he said.

“Depends. Will you take it seriously if I do?” you said.

“Not sure. It’s kind of ridiculous for me to be listening to my little sister’s friend about this kind of thing,” he said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you said.

“True,” he said. “Go ahead, then.”

“What do you even look for when you’re thinking of dating a girl?” you said.

“How hot she is,” he said. You waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

“That’s it?” you said.

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Why?” you said.

“Why not? Isn’t physical attraction important?” he said.

“To a certain extent, yes, but after a while, less and less so,” you said. “Haven’t you ever watched any romance movies? ‘It’s what’s on the inside that counts.’ Physical attraction alone isn’t enough in the long term.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So what do you suggest?”

“Are there any girls you genuinely enjoy spending time with? Not romantically, just because you like talking to them, even if they’re not the prettiest or whatever,” you said.

“I don’t really spend time with girls unless I’m trying to date them. It never works out. They always end up liking me, and besides, it makes my girlfriends mad if I’m friends with other girls,” he said. 

“You seriously have zero female friends,” you deadpanned.

“And just how many male friends do you have?” he shot back.

“None,” you said. “Okay, fair enough.”

“Wait, no, I guess we’re friends,” he said. “Yeah, you’re cool, Y/N. I mean, you’re pretty as well, but I don’t really think about that part much because you’re friends with Seiko.”

“Thanks,” you said. “You’re cool, too.”

“Now what? You’re a girl, and I like talking to you. Where do I go from there?” he said.

“I was going to say you should try dating one of those girls instead, but obviously that’s not applicable here,” you said.

“Ah,” he said. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m all that unique,” you said, taking advantage of his distraction to win another match. “It won’t be that hard for you to find someone else that you like hanging out with, and then you can just date them. Hopefully, you won’t get bored with a relationship like that.”

Eita didn’t respond. You doubted he knew how to and you were glad for his silence, because you yourself felt embarrassed that you had tried so hard to help him. Since when had you been the kind of girl who wanted so badly to give people guidance? He had his problems, no one could deny that, but why did you care about them? Why did it matter to you if he was happy, or if he grew out of whatever phase he was currently in?

Maybe it was because you knew he could be better. The caricature of him that you heard about, from Seiko and from the rumors around your high school, contrasted so harshly with the Eita Otoya you knew. People loved him because they wanted to be him, to have that effortless and selfish attitude towards life, but you didn’t think that very many of them took the time to understand him.

You doubted anyone at school knew that he was horrible at Super Smash Bros., or that he was entirely gullible and liked to make other people laugh. How many of them would find him admirable if they knew of his addiction to churros and diet sodas? He wasn’t cool or charming or suave the way he pretended to be. At the end of the day, he was nothing but a dumb boy blessed with a handsome enough mien that had fallen into a crowd which demanded more of him than he honestly should’ve had to give.

Putting this protectiveness down as a symptom of your friendship with Seiko — of course you cared for her older brother, he was a part of her family and you cared about her, it only made sense — you noticed that there was a lull in the storm. Bidding Eita farewell and shoving the money into his phone case when he was preoccupied with turning the game off, you ran home before it could begin to rain again, blaming your queasiness on the fact that you had not yet eaten dinner and nothing more.

“Eita’s been talking about you a lot,” Seiko said to you at lunch one day, a couple of weeks after the evening you had spent with her brother. Both you and he had mutually agreed not to bring it up, and Seiko was none the wiser, or at least so you had thought.

“What do you mean?” you said. She took a sip out of her juice box.

“Nothing bad. He just asks me how you’re doing and stuff,” she said. 

“That’s not that weird. Why’d you bring it up?” you said. For a moment, you had thought she meant that he was asking about you for a different reason, but this just sounded like a typical and general concern.

“It’s a little weird. He doesn’t typically care about how other people are doing. The other day, he asked me when you’re coming over again, since according to him it’s ‘been a while.’ Like he’s keeping track or something!” she said.

“He’s not wrong. It has been a bit,” you said.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Season’s almost over, and then I’m all yours.”

“You don’t have off-season workouts?” you said.

“Fuck off-season workouts,” she said. “I’ll skip on the days we plan to hang out. My coach won’t say anything. I’m the star of the team, so he has to live with it.”

“You’re the best,” you said.

“And you’re trying to change the subject!” she said. “Are the two of you buddy-buddy now or something?”

“Or something,” you said. “We’ve just spoken a few times while I was waiting for you to come back home from practices.”

She narrowed her eyes at you before nodding slowly. “Look, just so you know, I don’t mind if you’re friends with him or anything.”

“That’s good. I’ll keep it in mind,” you said.

“He’s my brother, after all. I like knowing that my best friend is getting along with my family,” she continued.

“I get along with your family so well that I’m surprised they haven’t started calling me Y/N Otoya yet,” you said.

“But I want you to be aware of what kind of person he is,” she said with a note of finality. “He might do something that hurts your feelings.”

“You’ve told me. Many times, actually,” you said.

“And I don’t want you to stop being friends with me if he does,” she said. “Okay?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you said. “You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

“You promise?” she said, in a rare show of vulnerability.

“Promise,” you said. She punched you in the arm, returning back to being the Seiko you knew.

“Good. Then do what you want with him,” she said.

“What?” you said.

“Just saying! You deserve better, obviously, but I won’t turn down a chance to have you as my sister-in-law,” she said. “Besides, he knows that if he messes with you, I’ll take your side, so that might be an incentive for him to stay on the straight and narrow.”

“Seiko! It’s not like that!” you said. “I don’t have feelings for him. He’s your brother.” 

“Whatever you say,” she said in a sing-song voice, taking another sip of her juice box, obviously done with the discussion. 

She knew you better than you knew yourself. That was what happened when a person was best friends with another for years upon years, and that was why she understood even before you did what it was that was brewing between you and her brother, what had been brewing since long before that evening where you had finally noticed a palpable shift in your dynamic.

Exam season began shortly afterwards, so you didn’t have the time to go to the Otoyas’ when you were so wrapped up in studying. Then, once exams were finished, Seiko was finally freed from her grueling practice schedule, leaving her to be, as she had said earlier, all yours. This meant that even when you did go to their house, you were solely there to be with her, and so you saw little of Eita, barely speaking to him beyond exchanging pleasantries.

Sometimes you wondered how he was doing. Had he found a girl he actually liked and ended up dating her? How was that relationship going, if so? Or was he still continuing as he had been, chasing whoever he found the most attractive and then running away from them when things inevitably didn’t work out? You hoped that that wasn’t the case, though you didn’t find the former option all that appealing, either. You should’ve, because it would’ve meant that he had taken your words to heart, but you didn’t. The thought of him dating anyone was wrong and weird and you didn’t like it, but because you weren’t quite sure why that was, you decided to avoid both the feeling and its cause alike.

Halfway through summer break, on a day when your parents were on a business trip and Seiko was visiting one of her cousins in the city, Eita Otoya showed up on your front porch, knocking on the door furiously until you opened it. He was just about the last person you had expected to be standing there, red in the face and panting for breath, wearing a sweat-soaked jersey, hair sticking to his forehead and a white box in his hands.

“You look horrible,” you said.

“I ran all of the way here,” he said. “After my soccer game.”

“What for?” you said. 

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said. 

“I was just at your house the other day,” you said. “Jeez, you look like you’re about to pass out. Let me get you some water. You really could’ve walked, you know…”

He had never been to your house, so he trailed after you dutifully, sitting at the dining table and gulping down the glass of water you offered him within seconds. Taking it back, you refilled it and gave it to him again.

“You were there for Seiko, not me,” he said.

“She’s my best friend,” you said. “Obviously I was there for her.”

“And what am I?” he said.

“Not that,” you said.

“I should be upset, but for some reason, I’m kind of glad that you said that,” he said. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Rude much?” you said, his words stinging. “Is that all you came here to tell me? If you don’t want to be friends, that’s fine, but was there really a need for you to come to my house and announce it? How’d you even get my address?”

“Seiko told me,” he said.

“In hindsight, I should’ve seen that coming,” you said.

“I haven’t dated anyone,” he said, all in a rush, the sentences tumbling out of his mouth like he was not sure if he’d ever get the chance to say them again. “Not since that night that we played video games together.”

“Seriously? If I ask Seiko, will she confirm that?” you said.

“Of course! I’m a lot of things, I know that, but I’m not a liar. I’ve never tried to hide who I am, especially not from you,” he said.

“Well,” you said. “That’s good, then. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve tried finding the kind of person you described,” he said. “Someone like you. You said it would be easy, but it’s not. It’s really fucking difficult.”

“Maybe you should look harder, then,” you said, rolling your eyes and placing his empty cup in the dishwasher before you forgot about it. “There’s no way I’m the only girl in the entire city that you can bring yourself to genuinely like.”

“You’re the only one I want to like,” he said. You froze in the middle of putting dish detergent in the dispenser, giving him an incredulous look.

“I’m what?” you said.

“I get that you probably don’t feel the same way. To be honest, I didn’t even realize that I did until Seiko yelled at me about it, because it’s not like it usually is. I want to spend time with you, as much as possible, even if we’re not doing anything but eating snacks or playing games. I want to listen to you talk, even if it’s about something that I think is boring. I want to buy things that’ll make you happy — the nice versions, not the kinds from the grocery store, because I don’t want to imagine that it won’t last. I want it to last,” he said.

You stared at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Of all the things he could’ve said, that was the most unlikely. What was it about you that made you so different, that the ever-fickle and brutally honest Eita Otoya was driven to such a confession? You knew he wasn’t making it up, because he was right — he never did. Not once had he ever tried to mislead a girl about who he was, and you sensed that this was much the same. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t believe him. It was that you simply couldn’t understand.

“I don’t get it,” you said.

“What do you mean? What else am I supposed to say?” he said. “I like you. I think I have for a while now. At first, I thought it was just because you were my sister’s friend, but according to her, you normally don’t feel this way for the friends of your siblings.”

“You’ve been talking to Seiko about me?” you said. Suddenly, the side comments she had been making recently made a lot more sense.

“Who else would I go to? It was humiliating, asking her for help, but you guys have known each other for forever, so I figured it was the best option,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said, starting the dishwasher and pushing it shut. “Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“If you’re going to reject me, don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you all of that because I was expecting you to say yes. I just wanted you to know that — that I did take what you said into consideration,” he said. 

“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It must’ve been weird, following the advice of your younger sister’s best friend.”

“You’re more than that,” he said. “You’re more than just Seiko’s friend to me. You’ve been more than that for a long time now.”

“Why me?” you said. “Why is it me, and not one of the hundreds of other girls that would jump at the chance to fix you, to be the one who finally got Eita Otoya to settle down for good?”

“It’s that bratty little sister of mine’s fault,” he said. “Because of her, you kept showing up, and by the time I noticed, it was way too late. At that point, I was already asking her what your favorite desserts were, just so I could get them for you.”

“I see,” you said.

“Besides, being with someone who wants to fix another person sounds awful. Do you want to fix me?” he said.

“If you expect me to, then you should probably just leave,” you said. “I don’t mind helping when I can, but the only person that can fix you is you.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You mentioned once that cheaters can grow somewhere far away from you.”

“Hm? Oh, I did say something along those lines, didn’t I? That was over a year ago, though,” you said, thinking back to that random conversation, unsure of why he even remembered it.

“I’ve done it,” he said. “It was hard, but I’ve done it anyways. For you, but also for myself. I’m not so sure that the highs are worth the lows anymore, and besides, I hate doing things I don’t like, and dating around is becoming one of those things.”

“Is that so?” you said. “I’m glad you realized that.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too. Uh, I should probably go now, so…here. For last time. You shouldn’t have paid me back. Don’t even think about pulling something like that again.”

He opened the box, revealing an assortment of cookies, all the different kinds you liked. You didn’t need to ask him to know where he had gotten them from, and you admired them as he stood and pushed in his chair.

“Thanks for hearing me out, Y/N,” he said. “And don’t worry, I won’t make things uncomfortable, so feel free to visit Seiko whenever. I’ll stay out of your way when you come over. She doesn’t have any other friends, so don’t ditch her just because of me.”

“You’re pretty self-important, aren’t you?” you teased. “Did you think I’d give her up just because of you? Not likely. Anyways, why would things be uncomfortable?”

“Usually it’s pretty unpleasant to have to be around someone when you know they have unreciprocated feelings for you,” he said.

“I don’t think they’re unreciprocated,” you said. He quite literally paused in his tracks, foot still raised in the air as he spun to face you.

“What? You should’ve said so earlier!” he said. “Do you mean I was acting all angsty and emotional for nothing?”

“I wanted to make you suffer a bit,” you said. “I mean this gently, but you deserve it.”

He hung his head. “You’re not wrong.”

“I’ve liked you for a while as well, though like you said, I hardly understood it myself, and I didn’t have the benefit of Seiko drumming it into my mind — mostly because that’s not the kind of conversation you really want to have with your best friend about her brother,” you said. “I also knew about your reputation, and no matter how wonderful I found you, I was a little wary, so I never gave it much thought.”

“But now?” he said.

“I mean, it’s kind of hard to reject a guy who runs to your house with cookies and a dramatic speech about how much he likes you,” you said.

“When you put it like that, I sound like a loser,” he said.

“I want you to consider that you play Super Smash Bros. in your free time, and that you are obsessed with anything ninja or Naruto related, and then I would like for you to repeat that statement with the same indignation you just said it with,” you said. He huffed in defeat.

“That’s fair enough,” he said.

“Like I said, I do like you, but I’m not in the business of fixing people. The second you start getting bored or wanting to cheat on me, break up with me, and be an adult about it. Don’t run away. Just be honest, and for my part, I’ll hold back my tears until you’ve left, alright? If you can swear you’ll do that, then I don’t mind trying,” you said.

“You’re way too nice to me,” he said.

“I can add in more demands, if you’d like,” you said.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to do that,” he said. You chuckled.

“I thought you were really serious about me, though?” you said. “Since you mentioned it, I do have one more condition. Say yes, and I’ll be your girlfriend. Say no, and…you better get back to searching.”

“What is it?” he said eagerly, grabbing your hands and holding them in between his own. “I’ll do anything.”

“You have to be the one to tell Seiko,” you said. He paled.

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

“Just did,” you said. He scrunched up his face in thought, obviously imagining his sister’s reaction. Though she had given both of you her blessings in her own way, there was no doubt in your mind that she’d give the two of you a hard time — especially him, considering the fact that she already did that without even having a reason to.

“I’ll do it, but you have to come along,” he bargained. “Someone has to nurse me back to health once she’s through with me. It might as well be you.”

“You’re in no place to be asking for things,” you said.

“Please?” he said. “She’s scary as hell, and I’m saying this as someone who regularly plays against guys big enough to become pro wrestlers.”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “I’ll come with you, and I’ll put bandages on all your bruises.”

He grinned at you. “Deal.”

“Deal,” you said.

“Then I guess you’re my girlfriend now,” he said.

“I guess I am,” you said.

“Nice,” he said. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

You snorted. “Why not?”

So you sat down on the sofa — next to each other this time, not on opposite sides, your head leaning on his shoulder and his thigh pressed against your own — and you did just that.

“So let me get this straight,” Seiko said. Eita, who had just delivered the news, was attempting to hide behind you, which was a largely ineffective method of disguise. “You two are officially dating.”

“Pretty much,” you said, when it became obvious that Eita was too petrified to respond. It was funny — he talked such a big game when it was just words, and he was the first to make fun of Seiko, but as soon as the prospect of a fight came up, he cowered away, as any smart man would.

“Interesting,” she said. “Eita, come here. I just want to say something.”

He shuffled out towards Seiko, head bowed and hands clasped together. “Yes?”

“If you ever hurt even a cell in the bodies of the mites that live on her eyelashes—”

“What the fuck?” you said. “That’s disgusting. Thanks, Seiko, now I’m going to be scrubbing my eyelashes for the next week.”

“Don’t worry about it, everyone has them. They’re normal,” Seiko said. “Like I was saying, Eita, if you mess with her, I’ll kill you. Forget about sibling loyalty; it all goes out the door on that day, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said.

“Good,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. He looked around like he was searching for a camera, obviously in disbelief that she had let him off so easily.

“Is that it?” he said.

“For now,” she said. “Ask me again in a few months and the answer might change.”

“I’ll take it,” he said. “Well, see you later. Let’s go upstairs, Y/N.”

“What? Y/N and I have plans to bake together tonight!” Seiko said.

“No way, we’re watching TV together! I’m going to make her watch all of Naruto!” he argued. In unison, they both turned to you, waiting for your response, waves of hostility rolling off of them.

“Oh, boy,” you said, already feeling a headache coming on. “This is going to be a lot more annoying than I anticipated.” 

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you WIP excerpt behind the cut, as promised, friends; 7k of kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit. (and non-chrono link for anyone on the app.)

Tana Moon follows Leech over to the group, looking a little wary herself. Tim sizes her up in his peripheral vision, pretending not to notice her approach. He’s “just” found out who his soulmate is, so he can sell the illusion of only paying attention to Superboy right now. It’s not an unusual reaction. 

It’s a pretty typical one, actually. The fact that Superboy decided to immediately show him off to everyone he knows is actually the less usual option, in fact. Not unheard of either, of course, but still. A lot of newly-discovered soulmates tend to just forget about the outside world for a few hours. Or days, even. A few missing person cases that Tim’s been involved in solving turned out to be cases of “I met my soulmate and we just eloped/ran away/went on a road trip/holed up in a hotel room without telling anyone”. 

Tim had thought it was ridiculous at the time, if obviously preferable to ending up with either a dead body or a traumatized victim, but Tim is currently in the process of planning an ethically-necessary kidnapping less than twenty-four hours after first cracking into Superboy’s file, so he supposes soulmates just bring out most people’s less pragmatic sides. 

Though he personally thinks carefully-planned ethical kidnappings are an improvement on spontaneous weekends in Vegas, pragmatically-speaking. But whatever. 

“He showed you?” Tana Moon says, glancing Tim over suspiciously. Superboy’s face reddens this time and he tugs at the slash in his own suit. 

“He, uh, saw mine first,” he says. “Kinda got into it with a dude downtown and Tim here was in the area, and like, he recognized it, obviously.”

“It’s fairly noticeable as a mark,” Tim supplies helpfully, figuring he should be being supportive of his soulmate here, and also be shutting Rex Leech up as efficiently as possible. “And Superboy came over to check on me after the fight, so it was hard to miss.” 

“Sure it was,” Leech says, his face souring. “So then you won’t mind showin’ yours to–” 

“Shut up, Dad!” Roxy hisses, kicking him viciously hard in the ankle. Leech yelps in pain. Roxy is immediately his favorite, Tim decides. By far Roxy is his favorite. The dog’s kind of cute and Dubbilex seems decent, but definitely Roxy is his favorite. 

Her dad definitely fucking sucks, though. 

And as for Tana Moon . . . 

“You’re a tourist?” Tana says, just barely frowning down at Tim. She’s taller than him. She’s also taller than Superboy, because she’s a grown-ass woman and why, exactly, is a reporter even here right now? How is that necessary or reasonable? 

. . . admittedly she’s also taller than Leech and he’s a middle-aged man, but that’s not the point here. If Tim has to “no comment” this situation and figure out how to get either his parents or Bruce to kill a story, he absolutely will. He isn’t even slightly gonna hesitate there. He is gonna the opposite of hesitate, in fact. 

“Yes,” he lies, which might not endear him to Moon, given she’s a native, but is better than confessing to having premeditated designs on kidnapping a teen idol superhero. Especially to a reporter. 

Even if it is legally salvage. 

“I’m just in town for the day,” he continues. “I needed to get away for a little while, you know how it is.” 

“Sure,” Moon says, narrowing her eyes at him. “Who doesn’t.” 

“He’s from Gotham. And he helped the civilians get out of the area while I was fighting that guy downtown!” Superboy says eagerly, which is . . . odd, actually, and throws Tim off a bit. That seems like a weird thing for Superboy to be eager about, considering. Like . . . just very weird. 

“Well, that’s a Gotham thing, probably,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish Civilian Smile (#7). “We’re used to rogue attacks with area of effect concerns involved, so we get pretty good at clearing a street.” 

“You did awesome,” Superboy says, grinning excitedly at him. That is . . . still weird, yeah. Tim really doesn’t get it. 

Well, maybe Superboy’s just relieved to have a soulmate who knows how to stay out of the line of fire and what to do in a crisis, given how often crisises probably come up in his life. That would make sense, considering. 

“It was nothing, just a little light crowd control,” Tim tries, assuming that’s what a normal civilian would say. Probably, right? Almost definitely. “Nobody even needed any urgent medical attention. And you used your TTK really strategically and contained the guy too, that was much more impressive to pull off in a mess like that.” 

Yeah, that was normal civilian talk, he thinks, pleased with himself for managing it. 

Superboy turns pink, then grins again. Dubbilex . . . tilts his head. 

Normal. Normal. Normal civilian. That’s what Tim is. A civilian! Who’s normal! Very, very normal! 

Normal. 

He smiles Normal Civilian Smile #4 and pats Krypto’s head again. Krypto makes an enthusiastic attempt at licking his fingers off. 

Ew. 

“‘Light crowd control’,” Moon echoes. That’s what Tim said, yeah, so he’s not sure why she’s repeating it. Well–reporter, again, so It’s probably a trap. 

It’s almost definitely a trap, actually. 

Really definitely it’s a trap. 

“Sorry to just show up like this, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says to Roxy and Dubbilex with a smile, politely pretending not to be ignoring Moon. He is definitely ignoring Moon, though. Again: reporter. She may not be a Lois Lane or even a Vicki Vale, but he’s still not giving her any information he can avoid giving her. And he’ll just ignore Leech while he’s at it, too. 

“I invited you, man!” Superboy says with a laugh, shaking his head. “We’re gonna hit the beach for a while, go hang out. Just swung by to grab Tim a swimsuit I can lend him.” 

“You came to Hawaii to ‘get away’ and didn’t pack a swimsuit?” Moon says skeptically. 

“Yup,” Tim replies with the most placidly innocent expression he’s ever worn in his life. Nothing. He is giving her nothing. Let all her reporter instincts strike against mirrored glass and high-security privacy windows and come to naught. 

Moon stares at him in silence, clearly waiting for him to fill it. Tim doesn’t fall for the incredibly obvious bait and just keeps the placidly innocent expression on. 

She frowns. 

“C’mon, man,” Superboy says cheerfully, apparently–and fortunately–oblivious to their stand-off. He grabs Tim’s arm and drags him towards the front porch. Tim seriously doubts its structural stability, from the look of it, but tactile telekinesis is hard to argue with. 

The steps manage not to collapse–possibly also because of tactile telekinesis, Tim can’t help suspecting–and Superboy pulls him straight into the house, which is . . . not particularly well taken care of, no surprise. The furniture looks like it all came from a thrift store, and not a nice thrift store. 

Admittedly Tim’s upbringing might be showing here, but also the corners need swept and there’s random boxes of assorted Superboy merch everywhere, most of which looks like cheap junk, and a huge stack of mail and four empty pizza boxes on the coffee table and overflowing trash cans with random junk scattered around, and it’s just . . . it doesn’t look taken care of, no. Which is something Tim would expect from a teenager or two, and maybe Dubbilex doesn’t know how chore wheels work or whatever, but fucking Rex Leech should at least be capable of getting out the broom once a week. 

Assuming there is one, anyway. Tim isn’t particularly optimistic on that one, honestly. 

Superboy’s room is even messier than the living room, covered in dirty clothes and abandoned comics and crumpled-up papers, but Tim’s bedroom looks like a bomb went off in it so he’s not gonna judge. Anyway, that’s Superboy’s personal space, not a common area. He can keep it however he likes, Tim figures. 

Somebody should really sweep that living room, though. And throw out those old pizza boxes, too. 

Tim isn’t judging, just–well, no, he is very much judging, actually. Specifically what he’s judging is Rex Leech, noted asshole sleazeball manager with predatory business tactics. 

Fuck that guy, seriously. 

“You want trunks or a speedo?” Superboy asks as he lets go of his arm to fly over to the cluttered dresser. Tim turns seventeen different shades of red and nearly disassociates. 

“Trunks,” he says quickly. “Please.” 

“Gotcha, man,” Superboy says easily, and then all the dresser drawers yank out at once and dump out crumpled piles of . . . mostly swimsuits and super-suits, it looks like, yeah. Like, basically nothing else but swimsuits and super-suits and a couple of cheesy-looking Hawaiian shirts. 

Well, that might be one lonely, lonely pair of cutoffs sticking out from underneath the swimsuits. But otherwise, that’s pretty much it, yeah. 

Fuck, that’s depressing, Tim thinks. 

Superboy comes back over with an armful of swimsuits, just about all of which have the S-shield either printed or stitched on them. Tim wonders why the guy even has this many swimsuits, especially considering he barely has any other clothes at all. At least not as far as he can see, anyway. 

He also wonders if he’s gonna die if he wears Superboy’s clothes. Is that a thing that might happen? Because it really might happen, yeah. 

Also wearing something with an S-shield on it feels like just a little too much to handle right now, so Tim’s hoping for a basic black option to be buried somewhere in that pile. Given Superboy’s apparent fashion sense, it seems unlikely, but hope springs eternal. 

“Take a look, see what’s good,” Superboy says, dumping the entire armful of swimsuits on Tim. Tim’s just grateful he remembered to stick to just the trunks, at this point. 

“So you spend a lot of time on the beach, huh?” he says wryly. 

“C’mon, man, it’s Hawaii,” Superboy says with a sheepish grin. “And I mean, I look good in anything but wet leather is just not a comfortable fit, you know?” 

“I guess it wouldn’t be, no,” Tim says, giving him Civilian Smile #4 again. Superboy’s ears redden a little again, and then he leans back and zips back across the room to shove all his drawers back shut. Tim lays out the pile of swimsuits on the bed, since it’s right there anyway, and then immediately feels embarrassed to be this close to Superboy’s bed. Which is stupid, even if they aren’t platonics. They’ve just met; it’s not like anything’s gonna happen. 

. . . even if Superboy is a notorious flirt and totally shameless and–

Tim is just not gonna pursue that line of thought right now, he decides. Just for his own sanity and all. 

He accidentally knocks some paper off the bed as he’s laying out the suits to get a look at them, and reflexively leans down to pick it up. The room’s a mess, yeah, but it’s Superboy’s mess. It’s still rude to just drop shit wherever. 

The paper isn’t as crumpled as some of the others, and Tim sees a glimpse of color as he picks it up. His inner detective reflexively wonders what it is, and . . .

Tim uncrumples the paper a little, and blinks down at it in surprise. It’s a little kid’s drawing, it looks like. A sunny beach rendered in bright colored pencil and simple, awkward shapes all painstakingly but clumsily colored in and–

Superboy’s suddenly right back next to him snatching the paper from him and immediately hiding it behind his back, looking absolutely mortified. Tim’s confused, for a moment. What’s he embarrassed about? It’s obviously not anything he’d have drawn himself. It’s probably just something a fan or a neighbor’s kid gave him, or . . . 

Tim pauses. Then he recontextualizes just how much of the crumpled-up paper is lying around Superboy’s room and wonders, very briefly, if a bunch of STEM majors with delusions of grandeur would’ve bothered programming their custom-designed “Superman” with anything resembling art skills. 

So . . . maybe that is something Superboy drew himself. If Cadmus didn’t program him with the muscle memory or knowledge of how to draw . . . well, then he probably would draw like a little kid, wouldn’t he.

And given Superboy’s cocky, braggart personality and defensive ego and how all that paper is all crumpled up as if in frustration . . .

“Gift from a fan?” Tim “assumes” with Smiling Civilian Face #4, pretending to be oblivious. 

“Uh–yeah!” Superboy blurts quickly as he jumps on the provided excuse, though he keeps the paper behind his back. “Yeah, just–you know, just some kid gave it to me at a signing, whatever. Uh, bathroom’s through there, if you wanna get changed. Or like, whatever.” 

“Thanks,” Tim says, and resists the itching urge to peek at a few more of those crumpled-up papers. It’s just a lot of paper, especially if Superboy’s upset with the results.

He wonders why the guy draws so much, if he’s that frustrated and embarrassed by it. Maybe it’s a rebellion thing, since it’s something Cadmus didn’t want him to know how to do. Tim would definitely understand that logic, if he were in Superboy’s situation. Or maybe he’s just bothered not to know how and trying to teach himself to make up for the perceived failing. 

Or maybe he just likes it, Tim supposes. That’s an option too. 

Probably a less likely one, though, given that it’s Superboy. Not to be an asshole or anything, just it’s a lot easier picturing the guy assuming he should be able to do something and getting fixated on trying to pull it off than just, like . . . liking to draw. Also, judging by all that balled-up paper, it doesn’t seem like there’s much there for him to “like”, either.

Tim takes the plainest set of trunks with a drawstring waist, which are black and dark blue but still have an S-shield iron-on patch sewn onto their waistband, for whatever reason, and ducks into the bathroom with them. He realizes belatedly that said S-shield is probably going to rest right up against his soulmark, then feels like an idiot for feeling flustered by that idea and just sets his bag against the wall and starts getting undressed. 

He’s definitely wearing one of the spare shirts in his go-bag for this, he decides as he stuffs his clothes into his bag. Just–definitely, yeah. 

The trunks fit once he cinches the drawstring enough, but the S-shield definitely does rest right against his soulmark. Tim has never actually considered the sight of the S-shield to be, like . . . relevant or interesting outside of work, but he’s realizing that he sure does feel differently about it now that he knows his soulmate’s one of the people wearing it. 

Which is a little ironic, really, considering Superboy wears the S-shield as a branding thing or whatever and lets Leech slap it on whatever cheap shitty merch he can think of. Like, he’s probably the least respectful S-wearer there is. 

Tim pulls on a plain clean T-shirt and a short-sleeve button-down to go over it, figuring that’s beach-friendly enough. He should’ve packed sunglasses, probably, but he was a little distracted by his kidnapping plans and didn’t think to. 

Seriously. He didn’t think to bring sunglasses to Hawaii. 

This whole situation definitely has him off his game, yeah. 

Soulmate thing, he guesses.

Tim eyes himself in the bathroom mirror, mentally decides he’s being an idiot to worry about how he looks right now, and then grabs his bag and heads back out into the bedroom. Superboy’s changed into low-waisted S-shield-themed trunks of his own and flip-flops and nothing else, which does in fact give Tim an embarrassingly good and embarrassingly distracting view of their soulmark. It’s not quite distracting enough for him to miss the fact that the amount of crumpled papers strewn around the room has noticeably decreased, though. And there’s definitely more of them sticking out from under the bed and dresser and in the back of the closet than there previously were. 

Which is kinda cute, honestly, but Tim should probably not say that. Like, ever. 

“Thanks for waiting,” he says, smiling Normal Civilian Smile #4 at Superboy as he hitches his bag up a little higher on his shoulder. “And for the loan.” 

Superboy stares blankly at him for half a second, then seems to startle a little and puffs himself up. 

“Uh–sure, yeah!” he says quickly. “No problem, man. Anytime.” 

“‘Anytime’ seems pretty open, as an offer,” Tim jokes, because normal civilians make that kind of joke, and Superboy turns red. 

“Oh, uh–you know what I mean!” he sputters awkwardly, holding his hands up, which seems kind of a lot as a reaction, and then somehow manages to nearly knock over his dresser without even touching it. Well–that'd be the TTK, Tim guesses. 

It wasn't even that much of a joke. Like, lame suburban dad joke territory, that's all. 

“I do, yeah,” he says with a wry smile. Superboy finds a way to turn even redder and shoves his dresser back into a corner. That also seems like kind of a lot as a reaction, but Tim doesn't comment. Just seems, well . . . awkward? Unnecessary? “Are we good to go, then?” 

“Um, yeah, yeah,” Superboy says, clearing his throat and then zipping out into the hall. Tim wonders if he always flies indoors this much. “All good, dude! Let's head out.” 

“Sure,” Tim says, keeping the smile on. Superboy is still red, but floats along down the hall. Tim follows. Okay. They’re almost definitely not platonic, but Superboy clearly isn’t any more sure what to do with that than Tim is, so . . . small favors, he guesses. Like–that they’re at least roughly on the same page there, he means. 

Unless he’s just reading into things because of weird personal biases he didn’t even know he had, and Superboy is completely straight and just kind of socially awkward around civilians, and Tim’s just being socially pressured by the background radiation of living in a society that over-values romantic soulmates in comparison to platonic ones and sometimes disavows platonic soulmates altogether. 

He supposes technically they could be familial, rare as that is. It’s not like he really knows how he’d feel about having a brother. Dick’s the closest thing to one he’s ever had, and that’s just . . . not actually the same thing, obviously, even if sometimes he wishes . . . 

Anyway. It doesn’t matter. He’s pretty sure having a brother wouldn’t in any way involve this level of embarrassment and unexpected hormones and just general sexuality-questioning over every little thing. Like, that seems very much not like what having a brother would be like. 

So–maybe he isn’t straight, or maybe Superboy’s not actually a boy, or maybe both of those things are true, or maybe he’s just really, really bad at having a soulmate.

Entirely possible, under the circumstances. Tim’s not really all that good at getting close to people. If he got a little confused about how to handle having a soulmate, well . . . that wouldn’t really be a surprise, would it. 

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to have to figure out how to come out to his dad or Dana or the goddamn Batman. 

One or the other, probably.

. . . statistically speaking, the likelier explanation probably is not wanting to come out to the goddamn Batman. 

“Wanna fly someplace or just chill on the beach out front?” Superboy asks as he floats backwards into the living room. Krypto runs up and jumps on Tim excitedly, his tail wagging so hard his whole little body’s wagging with it. He’s a weird-looking little mutt, but he’s really friendly, apparently. “Krypto, oh my god, get off him.” 

“I don't mind,” Tim says, leaning down to give Krypto a polite little pat on the head. Krypto barks happily and wags his tail so hard he knocks himself over. 

Yeah, weird dog in general, Tim thinks. But again, really friendly. 

“We can go wherever,” he says. “You're the local, you know the best places to get a little time alone to hang out, right?” 

“‘Alone’?” Superboy repeats, his ears reddening again as he somehow manages to trip in mid-air and hits his head on the doorframe. Tim can probably safely write off the idea of “platonic” at this point, but is still a little bit wary of his personal bias interfering. Though . . . “Uh–yeah! Totally! Yeah! We can do that!” 

Yeah, Superboy really isn’t selling the “platonic” idea here either. 

Does Tim have a boyfriend now? Is this how boyfriends happen? 

. . . well, or a girlfriend, maybe. He still hasn’t ruled out the “maybe Superboy’s just trans” option. That seems like a thing that might confuse his sexuality a little, if nothing else. 

This is definitely not anything like any previous girlfriend-getting he’s experienced, though. Like, not even a little bit. He’s not complaining, exactly, because admittedly it’s actually a little bit easier going into a new relationship with a plan and a cover established, even if the plan is admittedly still in flux and the relationship’s “romantic" vs "platonic” status is still unclear. It’s still something he can approach like a case, which is much more straightforward than just floundering around trying to figure out how normal people work. 

And Superboy’s about as far from a “normal person” as it gets, so really, this is a pretty ideal set-up on Tim’s end. 

Hopefully Superboy feels similarly, though he also, like . . . is lacking some pretty important information there, so . . . yeah, that might be an issue. Bruce would definitely not have appreciated Robin telling Superboy he was his soulmate, though, and who knows how Superboy would’ve even taken that. Going in as a civilian is going pretty smoothly, though, so Tim’s pretty sure it was the right choice. 

Hopefully it was, anyway. 

“Cool,” Tim says, keeping up the placid harmless civilian face and thoughts and Totally-Not-A-Vigilante vibes. Superboy does a very bad job of pretending he didn’t just bump into the doorframe and ducks back outside, putting on a cocky grin of his own as he does. It occurs to Tim, briefly, that maybe Superboy has his own catalog of performative expressions. None of his friends really seem to, but Superboy is in the community too, so . . . well, it’d make sense, right? 

Also he does sell his likeness via a sleazy manager’s sleazy business deals, so yeah. It does kind of make sense. 

Huh. That’s . . . a thought, he guesses. 

Not a thought he’d really had yet. 

Just . . . something they might have in common, Tim guesses. 

Though so is being in the community to begin with, obviously. And they're physiologically about the same age and have similar coloring, though Superboy is–well, not actually mixed with East Asian, because Krypton did not have an actual place called “Asia”, but he does have subtle hints of that look, same as Superman. Easy to mistake for just being white, but recognizable if you know what you're looking for. Superboy would be at least half-white given Westfield's DNA, Tim guesses, but . . . 

Yeah, no, he doesn't even know how to begin to figure out the nuances of racial identity on a dead planet he knows next to nothing about, much less any potential experience parallels there might be for a second-generation half-alien immigrant with effectively zero access to their own culture, but maybe he could–

Right, okay, he needs to focus here. There's some fascinating stuff there that he can theorize about and investigate later, once he's kidnapped Superboy properly. The kidnapping is the current priority, though. Like, it is very much the current priority. 

Tim follows Superboy back out onto the porch. Everyone else is still out there, which is fine in regards to Roxy and Dubbilex and not fine in regards to Leech and . . . well, jury's out on Moon, maybe. 

Also the dog. He doesn't really know about the dog. Though said dog does run after him and jump up for attention wagging his scruffy little tail hard enough to wag his whole little body, which is sort of cute. 

Or as cute as a wet dishrag can get, anyway. 

Tim’s trying not to judge Krypto for that, since obviously he didn't ask to be born as the living embodiment of a wet dishrag, and anyway he's a really friendly dog, so judging by appearances seems like a dick move. Even if Tim kind of wants to iron him, to be honest. Steam-clean, maybe. 

At least take him to a decent groomer, if nothing else. 

“Down, you little shit, Jesus!” Kon says, scowling down at Krypto and trying to shoo him away. Krypto growls at him, which seems weird, then goes back to fawning all over Tim. Tim leans down and pats his head, figuring it might calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “He is cute.” 

“Whatever,” Superboy grumbles, folding his arms and inexplicably glowering at his dog. 

“You gonna go swim, or just hang out?” Roxy asks curiously as she comes over to them again. 

“Oh, we’re–” Superboy starts, but Moon cuts him off. 

“Want some company?” Moon inquires, pleasant and suspicious all at once. Superboy looks–conflicted, momentarily, and then awkward. 

“Um, well–Tim’s only in town for today, so . . . next time?” he hedges. Tim resists the urge to eye Moon. Can I just spontaneously insert myself in your first day with your brand-new soulmate? is incredibly rude, as a suggestion. And incredibly fucking disrespectful to boot. Like, what entitled-ass kind of thing is that to ask, exactly? 

How old is she again? Twenty? Twenty-one? He should look that up later. Well–no, she’d graduated college and started her career by the time Superman had died, which was a good eight or nine months ago now, so unless she skipped a grade or two in there, she’s gotta be closer to twenty-four, if not twenty-five or twenty-six. 

That’s . . . a thought, considering there is definitely news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. Like, Tim very definitely saw news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. And she was very definitely kissing him too.

In retrospect, that seems like something someone should’ve, like . . . done something about? Or at least addressed? And is definitely further proof of how fucking useless and slimy Rex Leech is. Sure, let the five-minute-old clone make out with a twentysomething reporter and hang out with her at home; all publicity is good publicity, so it’s fine, right? Sure. Why wouldn’t it be? 

Tim is going to absolutely decimate that bastard’s credit the first chance he gets. Leech probably already has terrible credit, mind, but he’ll make it worse. He’ll find a way. 

. . . though he’ll wait until he’s sure Roxy is eighteen and financially independent, he doesn’t actually know if she is or not. Roxy seems nice, she doesn’t deserve that particular fallout. 

“It’d be nice to get to know each other later, I’m sure,” Tim says before Moon can say anything, smiling Gala Smile #1 at her, which is a targeted psychological attack and not actually very moral to be trotting out this quick, probably. 

He has no regrets, for the record. Absolutely none. 

Moon narrows her eyes suspiciously. Tim blithely strokes Krypto’s ears, Gala Smile #1 flawless and unphased. 

“I’m sure,” she “agrees” frostily. Superboy remains apparently oblivious to the tension and grins brightly at both of them. 

“Cool!” he says. Oh, sweet summer child who has clearly never socialized with sharks, Tim thinks resignedly, petting Krypto again. Has Leech taught him literally nothing about conversational warfare, for fuck’s sake? At least living with your sleaze of a manager should be good for that, dammit! 

Then again, Leech is probably not actually competent enough to teach Superboy anything actually useful, so maybe that’s for the best. 

If nothing else, Superman could’ve taught him a bit of “bless your heart”, but apparently that’s not a thing either. 

Tim has a brief moment of dread that maybe underneath his personal list of performative expressions, Superboy might just be a straightforward and honest person, which is a concerning thought. He doesn’t even know how to talk to a straightforward and honest person at this point, after this long as Batman’s emotional support sidekick. How do you form a lasting relationship with someone who isn’t habitually using at least three layers of double-talk and constantly locked in on all your microexpressions, anyway? 

That’s going to be a weird experience, yeah. 

“Ready to go?” Superboy asks Tim, grinning brighter at him. Tim feels momentarily overwhelmed and just sort of . . . has to collect himself about that, a little. 

Or a lot.

“Lead the way,” he says, smiling at him. He’s flustered enough to forget to use an appropriately-planned smile, which is embarrassing, but Superboy just grins even brighter–which should not be physically possible, but apparently is–and reaches out to scoop him up into his arms and into the air again as Krypto lets out an offended bark. It’s totally overkill and not even slightly necessary. 

Tim isn’t complaining, just–well–

It’s really flustering. 

“Air Superboy up, up, and away!” Superboy says cheerfully as they float up over the others’ heads. His face is way too close to Tim’s face. 

Tim is gonna need a bit longer to collect himself this time, he’s pretty sure. 

“Do I get an in-flight meal?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Superboy laughs, which is even worse than his grin, and then takes off across the beachfront with him. It’s another bridal carry, which is quietly mortifying but could be worse, probably. Maybe. 

Somehow. 

Superboy flies them straight across the beach and then straight out over the water, skimming them along just above the waves. Tim makes a briefly startled noise, reflexively tightening his grip on the strap of his bag. 

“This isn’t waterproof,” he says just as reflexively, and Superboy laughs again. 

“I’m not gonna drop you, dude,” he says. Tim actually more assumed Superboy was intending to either dive-bomb them both into the water or just dump him in on purpose, because that seems like Superboy’s sense of humor, but maybe that was an unfair assumption. 

He really is not prepared for how it feels to be held in close against Superboy’s bare chest and arms like this, even if he’s still wearing a shirt himself. The idea of possibly doing that while they’re both wet seems a lot worse. 

Yeah. Definitely worse. 

Tim should’ve worn long sleeves. And maybe a wetsuit. And maybe a few layers on top of that. 

Jesus. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he says, barely resisting the urge to loop his arms around Superboy’s neck as the other hangs a right and swoops them back around towards shore. Flying over the water like this is a pretty cool experience, admittedly, now that he’s not worried about Superboy dumping him in the water. 

Well. Less worried, anyway. 

Camera next time, Tim promises himself, glancing back over Superboy’s shoulder towards the shining horizon. The sun reflects off the waves bright and beautiful, and the sky is a smooth and perfect blue dotted with sparse but billowing clouds, and everything smells like salt and sea and leather, which is probably Superboy, even without the jacket on anymore. 

Definitely camera next time.

“Definitely holding you to that, actually,” he says, and Superboy laughs again and brings them down in the surf just past the tideline with a splash. Neither the splash or the water goes high enough to soak Tim's bag, so he figures it could've been worse. 

Assuming Superboy isn't planning to toss him or anything before he can put his bag down somewhere safe, anyway. 

They both settle down into the surf and onto their feet, and Tim becomes very aware of how close together they’re standing and also how very, very shirtless Superboy is, and in fact the only thing between their soulmarks is the very thin layer of cotton of Tim’s own shirt, and if he leaned in just a little bit . . . 

Jesus, Tim thinks faintly, and forces himself to take a step back before he can make it weird. 

He smiles Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 just to make sure he doesn’t look like a creep or anything, and Superboy grins excitedly at him. Tim allows himself all of two seconds to be overwhelmed by that gorgeous expression and their physical closeness and the reflection of the light in Superboy’s eyes, as bright and perfectly blue as both the sky and water, and then reasserts standard operating procedures and keeps Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 locked in place on his face. 

“The water’s really warm,” he observes, glancing down at it. “Is that normal?” 

It’s probably not an impending supervillain thing, he tells himself. 

Maybe global warming or something, though.

“I mean, feels normal to me?” Superboy says with a shrug. Tim considers mentioning the average ocean temperature, comparatively speaking, or at least the average temperature of the water off the docks in Gotham. Admittedly, Gotham waters barely count as “water”, legally speaking, but that’s not the point. 

“It’s pretty out here,” he says instead, and Superboy grins at him and leans in. He’s pretty sure it’s more an instinctive thing than a deliberate one, just from the way Superboy does it, but that doesn’t exactly make it less flattering. 

Or flustering. 

“I mean, it’s Hawaii, man!” Superboy says, grinning wider before kicking at the surf. “‘Course it’s gonna be pretty!” 

Actually you specifically are possibly the prettiest damn thing that I have ever seen, Tim thinks, but isn’t stupid enough to actually let out of his mouth. Superboy, unfortunately, continues to be all warm and grinning and lit up by the island sun. Tim did not come prepared enough for this. 

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’d be the guy who came to Hawaii and got a monsoon,” Tim says wryly, and Superboy laughs brightly. 

Tim really did not come prepared enough for this. Like, not at all. Not even slightly. 

“Guess you’d just have to come back, then,” Superboy says, grinning wider again and kicking at the surf again as he floats back up out of it. It’s–weird, a little, looking up at him like this. 

Well, not weird, just . . . yeah. 

Something like that. 

“Guess so,” Tim agrees, feeling embarrassingly flustered. Superboy’s friends can probably still see them from the porch, distant though it is, but part of him is still just considering very weird and dumb ideas like maybe tugging Superboy back down to earth and into the surf and just . . . confirming the little sexuality crisis he’s been having since breaking into the other’s file and seeing their soulmark in it, maybe. 

Just, you know, ruling things out. Making deductions. Going through the process of elimination. 

Kissing him, maybe. 

He could very, very much kiss Superboy right now. They’re on a gorgeous beach in the surf and under the sun and Superboy is floating in front of him and grinning as happy and excited as could be and Tim’s stomach is fluttering in a stupid and also-embarrassing way, and . . . 

He could kiss him. That’s all. 

“I mean, it’s a nice place to visit, right?” Superboy says casually, linking his hands together behind his back. 

“The tourism industry seems to think so,” Tim says wryly, and wonders what the “normal civilian who didn’t come here specifically looking for his soulmate to kidnap/salvage him to begin with” thing to say is here. He has absolutely no idea, because he actually has absolutely no idea how normal civilians react to superheroes. Robin is . . . not exactly an urban myth, necessarily, but definitely not a publicly-recognized superhero. He’s a vigilante that’s just barely allowed to operate outside the law, and not one with any kind of publicity or celebrity involved. 

eSuperboy, on the other hand, is not only a superhero, but a professional superhero. He’s selling his likeness and doing events and has signed a stupid predatory contract with a sleaze of a manager that technically shouldn’t even be legal, given Superboy isn’t even considered a legal person by the government. Apparently no one has ever realized that, though, or at least no one’s ever let Superboy realize that. 

Tim really doesn’t love that that’s a thing, to put it mildly. 

Actually, he just fucking hates it. 

Superboy laughs, and looks very, very pretty doing it. Tim continues to wonder what a normal civilian would do here, and for lack of a better idea falls back on small talk. 

God, his best plan right now is small talk. What is his life, even? 

No wonder he’s gonna have to take six months to kidnap Superboy, ugh.

“So, uh–this seems like a weird question to be bringing up this late in the conversation, but what’s your name?” he asks, because it’s occurred to him that he actually has no idea what Superboy goes by when he’s off-duty. He knows he doesn’t have a secret identity, of course, but there’s no way his friends just call him “Superboy”. Well–maybe his slimy asshole manager does, but otherwise. “I mean, if that’s okay to ask. Marks or not, I understand if you don’t feel like we’re there yet, given the whole superhero thing and all.” 

Robin knows Superboy doesn’t have a secret identity, after all, but Tim Drake is a normal civilian and shouldn’t act like he knows too much about any superhero in general, so–

“Naw, it’s fine, I don’t even have one,” Superboy says, for some reason just beaming at him, which is . . . weird, Tim thinks, but nowhere near as weird as that answer is. 

“You don’t . . . have one?” he repeats slowly, and Superboy shrugs easily. “Like–not at all?” 

“Yeah, everybody pretty much just calls me 'Kid' or 'SB', when it's not Superboy,” Superboy says. “Oh, and Knockout calls me 'Pup' when she's around but like, that's really just a 'her' thing. So, you know, you can call me whatever.” 

Tim stares blankly at him for a long, long moment, speed-runs all five stages of grief, and also discovers a couple of new and unexpected ones. 

Alright. Well, he officially regrets literally nothing about this impending kidnapping. 

“Oh, okay,” he says. “Um–sorry, I guess I just assumed you’d have a more . . . civilian-ish name too, I guess?” 

“I’m a clone, man,” Superboy says, looking amused. “The only other name I’ve got is ‘Experiment Thirteen’, which is definitely not something I answer to."

Tim discovers a few more stages of grief that hit with all the subtlety of a spiked baseball bat and makes himself nod as much like a normal person as he can. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d go for that one if I were you either,” he says. “Kind of a mouthful, if nothing else.” 

Superboy laughs, then grins at him again. He is actually doing so, so much of that, Tim’s realizing. Tim was really not prepared for how much of that he’s been doing, in fact. He just did not come prepared for any of that at all. He’s got some nebulous kidnapping plans, but everything else here–from the supervillain attack to Superboy’s ripped suit and exposed soulmark–has been a crime of opportunity. 

He probably should’ve done more research. Actually, he definitely should’ve done more research. He kind of just panicked and bought a ticket and flew right over, and just because Dick didn’t stop him doesn’t mean it was a good idea. He just–he should’ve done more research. Planned more. Not shown up without something concrete. 

Admittedly Superboy doesn’t hate him yet or anything, but this was just . . . yeah, this was not his brightest idea at all. Not even slightly. 

Why didn’t he do more research? 

“You really can just call me whatever you wanna, don’t worry about it,” Superboy says with an easy shrug as he settles back down into the surf, which, unfortunately, puts him back into kissing range and is therefore incredibly distracting. 

Dammit, Tim thinks, trying to beat his stupid teenage hormones into order. 

“Whatever I wanna?” he repeats. 

“Except for Experiment Thirteen,” Superboy says with another grin. Tim politely pretends not to notice the slight tightening of the corners of his mouth as he says the word “experiment”. 

“Uh, okay,” he says, clearing his throat. He guesses Superboy doesn’t really care what his name is, then, but being told to just call him whatever he wants to is . . . well, a weird feeling, maybe. “What do you do when you just want to be a civilian for a while, though?” 

“I don’t,” Superboy says. 

“. . . don’t . . . what?” Tim asks slowly, not sure if he should be dreading the answer or not, but–

“Be a civilian,” Superboy says. 

Tim’s running out of new stages of grief, he’s pretty sure. 

“Ah,” he says. 

Superboy–for a second, Tim thinks he looks self-conscious, but then he’s grinning again before he can be sure, and . . . 

“Why would I?” Superboy says, puffing up proudly. “I’m Superboy, man! Nothing else I’d rather be.” 

Given how limited Superboy’s options for anything “else” he could be probably are . . . well, Tim’s not sure what to think of that statement. 

He doesn’t think it’s anything good, though. 

Yeah, no, he thinks as he looks at Superboy’s too-bright grin and thinks about how he just said "nothing" and not "no one". Definitely not anything good. 

Who wouldn’t pick being “Superboy” over being “Experiment Thirteen”, after all? 

And what else would Superboy even know how to pick, if he thought those were his only options?

[twdgkidsdeservebetter]

Everything Wrong With Umbrella Academy Season 4 (Characters)

The way it felt like someone who had never seen the show wrote this season????

The characters were AWFUL and were almost entirely new characters with all their previous character development forgotten.

Allison - Honestly, I don't like Allison (after watching THAT scene w Luther), so I really didn't care what happened with her this season. I think it does suck that she wasn't able to be happy with Ray, they were nice together. Also, no rumours? Her power was one of the most interesting out of the family.

Luther - People were commenting about how childish and positive he was being this season and how it was out of character from him being so serious. Honestly? I love silly Luther, he's such a breath of fresh air. I also like to believe that because Luther was assigned the leader of the family (being number 1 and all), he's able to enjoy himself without that pressure. Also, I also love to believe that Luther is using being positive and silly as a coping mechanism as to not be overwhelmed by the sadness of losing Sloane and also his current living situation. Giving him his gorilla body back was so unnecessary and makes no sense cause it wasn't the marigold that gave him the body.

Ben - He sucked. I hate that Sparrow Ben was the one that was dragged with them because it meant that we had to deal with him sulking and being angsty the whole time. Also, the character development we witnessed 1-2 just disappeared instantly cause of Sparrow Ben. Also, his friendship with Klaus was the best thing in the show and I hate that we never get to see that in season 3.

Klaus - I was actually so happy for him being sober, even if he wasn't living the best life because of his paranoia with death and germs. So it really sucked when that immediately went down the drain the second his body got the marigold.

Diego - He deserved better. Yeah, his constant complaining about his "belly" (which wasn't even that big of a difference??) and wanting to go back to his old super spy life did affect his and Lila's marriage, but when he realised that he immediately accepted that he was at fault and was willing to improve their marriage to make Lila happy.

Lila - I liked Lila before season 4. I don't know what they were thinking honestly by changing her entire character. Yes, she and Five were stuck for 7 years together, but seriously? That plot added NOTHING to the story because in the end, Lila chose Diego and then they all DIED like 10 minutes later!!

Viktor - Honestly? Viktor didn't really stand out this season for me. Sure, he got kidnapped by Ian Hawk. I thought the idea of him trying to remove the marigold from Ben was a really cool idea but then it just didn't happen. I thought his interactions with Reginald were decent, since it's interesting to see how this Reginald thinks about Viktor compared to the original timeline Reginald.

Five - It's honestly kind of impressive how the writers were able to make the best character in the show the worst character by the end of it. They completely changed his whole character. First, his personality is duller than a door nail. He's so emotionless and so boring. Where's the excessive facial expressions and movements? Second, changing his motivations. For the past 3 seasons we have watched him with one goal in his mind; "Save the world and his siblings". So why would Five ever possibly consider both giving that up for Lila of all people. Third, giving Five a love interest was so useless and lazy. Why would he choose a girl over his siblings? Especially one literally MARRIED to his BROTHER. Fourth, him being all pouty and jealous over Lila choosing Diego (her husband and father of her kids - no shit she was gonna pick him over Five, literally have no idea why Five even thought he had a chance) to the point where he plans to just ditch his family in the middle of a big fight. Five, him fighting Diego in the middle of said big fight. THEN, Five just gives up??? Yeah, that's probably all he could do but seriously, this is Five we're talking about, the guy who survived in 45 years in the apocalypse to try and get back to his family and save the world. Do you really believe that he would just give up?

BONUS:

Jennifer - They could introduce a new character/love interest for Ben but they didn't do the same for Five so they just gave him the only other woman who wasn't his sister???? LAZY. Also, the amount of plot holes with Jennifer's character makes me queasy.

[lucysarah-c]

WE NEED AN ENTIRE STORY OF LEVI AS A BABY BOY DADDY! LIKE PLEASE ITS ACTUALLY TOO GOOD 🙏🙏🙏🙏😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏😭😭😭😭😭😭

You all have inspired me to write a one-shot, so I'll post it soon. Thank you so much!

But since I'm on it, I think I'll give you a few headcanons.

In my idea, Levi didn't have many children, and while sometimes my scenarios may change depending on the situation, mostly Levi's boy would be an only child. This wasn't Levi's original idea, and I'll explain why.

Leaving aside whether in the canon period of time there are real contraceptives or not, I 100% believe Levi is a highly meticulous guy. If he needs to pull out and count days in the old-fashioned way, he will. If he has to wear condoms every single time, he will. I believe Levi would try to make sure that if he ever has a child, it would be planned, as far as is humanly possible, of course. Sometimes contraceptives fail, etc.

In my mind, I believe Levi and Y/N decided or happened to have a kid around the time before the expedition to Wall Maria. There was about half a year when the scouts waited for the correct time to do the expedition to Wall Maria. Well, I believe she probably got pregnant around that time. I believe it was a mix between Levi transitioning a lot of emotions after Kenny's death, etc., and having more free time on his hands since they weren't doing expeditions while preparing for the mission… and well… let's say they decided to go handy, haha.

With that said… I think Levi would hardly admit it out loud, but he's one of those guys who always wanted to be parents, so they kinda said, "You know what? Fuck it, if it happens, it happens," and well, it happened almost immediately. Levi hears the news around two months later, and let me tell you, this man is all over the moon. He wants to be part of EVERYTHING. For me, Levi wants to prove that he is better than the men who failed his mother and also failed him. Levi wants to prove he can be a present father.

She goes to the doctor for just a check, he wants to be there. Better keep his man informed because he would ask a million questions. He's a first-time father, and she may sneeze, and he's all worried. Levi saw too many women die in childbirth or from difficult pregnancies in the underground. He's blessed with the chance of being a father, but also terrified. Levi feels that if he loses his love just because he "grew selfish" and asked for more (aka asked for a kid), he would feel horrible.

Anyways, back in the day, men waited outside during birth, and I believe they would try to kick Levi out of the room, and he would be like, "and who is going to stop me?" He wants to be there.

Now is when his baby boy comes into the picture. I believe, and God bless the mother, he was such a healthy CHUNKY boy. He was BIG. Those kinds of kids that look so healthy but at the same time, it's like "he literally sucked her dry, that baby took anything the mother has to offer."

Like, she's too tired after childbirth, and the nurses offer Levi feeding bottles with milk to keep the baby eating while the mother rests… and the baby is EATING to the point a doctor comes, pats Levi's arm playfully, and says, "Hope you've a good salary, Captain, because that kid is going to eat like a horse."

Perhaps these are the only few times that Levi is the most excited out of the two, she's tired from all the work, and Levi is over the moon. Ah, but don't you dare to touch his baby without washing your hands. If Levi could force you to take a bath in chlorine before even getting close to his baby, he would.

Aside from that, I think Levi's baby boy that I've named in my mind "Adrien" because Y/N thinks that naming her kids with A's to match the last name, especially since Ackerman's are finally able to not be in hiding.

In my mind, Adrien inherits Kenny's height. Yes, as you heard, KENNY'S HEIGHT. 190cm (6'3"). He's a big boy. I think it's funny that all the doctors check the baby and say, "haha, he's going to be tall!" and Levi is there looking at her like "… I don't like to admit I'm short as fuck, but if the kid isn't mine you can tell me," joking obviously, lmao.

"Levi, the kid is a photocopy of you."

Adrien is an extremely playful, happy, and hyperactive kid. He's so cheerful, and it makes Levi wish his mother was around so he could ask if he was such a cheerful kid too.

Chunky fat legs running down the halls as he doesn't even speak properly, but he already knows which office is daddy's office. He loves horses, he loves playing soldier, he loves being a daddy's boy.

This is when I mention that I believe Levi having a single child wasn't his original plan. I think he wished to give Adrien a sibling to make sure he won't be alone in life if anything ever happens to him as he was. But the whole rumbling happened, and after that, Levi was too busy trying to move him and his family outside of Paradise and after that settling down, taking care of Gabi and Falcon, that well time flew, and when everything was back to calmness, haha, well let's say that Levi had to admit that the train had left the station, and his energy to go back to change diapers had kinda withdrawn, lmao.

Finally, I think Adrien was a very hyperactive kid mainly because of the Ackerman genes. He has energy, he has strength, he has the abilities. He just has too much bottled up and doesn't know how to get tired. Levi is basically running around making sure the kid isn't jumping from the roof or climbing the kitchen cupboards. He probably ends up signing him up for a bunch of activities: baseball, self-defense classes, football, triathlon.

I have a bunch of other headcanons, so let me know if you want more!"

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[allthornsnopetals]

Tall S/O

:Includes:

:T.Denali:

:K.Denali:

:I.Denali:

Umm, yes you can!! Something, for the fellow tall girlies, 100% I'm 5,12ft... Ik, but at least I'm not short, but finding pants that can cover my ankles is, rather challenging.

:T.Denali:

Tanya is 5,5ft, while Myanna Burning—the actress, that plays her—is 5,1ft... She is a small bean.

In other words it is really not that hard to outgrow her, unless you are below 5ft or the same height. (If you are, that f sucks.)

Legit calling for you if she can't reach for something on a high shelf.

When she first laid eyes on you, she legit thought you were a model of some sorts. You had to be with all, that leg, and height.

She legit is drooling, like the horndog, that she is. Her mouth is salivating, eyeing you as one would with a meal.

I picture Tanya, constantly asking for uppies. (shut up this is my HC, so I say so).

She's extremely aware of the height difference, but she couldn't careless, in fact she loves it!

Always wearing your clothes and even your heels. She would deny ever taking anything from your closet, perhaps pointing her finger at Kate.

She will only return the clothes she 'borrowed', if you manage to find where she hid them, which is like finding a needle in a haystack.

Oh, and if she is at booby height, babe your done for. At least shoving her face where it shouldn't, ten times a day. Wanting hugs only because she wants her face in your boobies

I'm sorry but you will be wearing nothing but shorts when you are home, because in my perspective she loves the look/appeal of your legs. She will even offer/will shave and or wax your legs for you.

She's obsessed!

Love's it when you cage her in with your legs when love making, especially if your legs cross over daintily around her tiny waist.

This is gonna sound—because it is— dirty, but her favorite thing to do, when in the bedroom is ride your thighs/your entire leg, and yes she will boot fuck your foot, grinding and reaching her high.

She is like a dog on another kind of drug, humping, and even whining—which, would lead to begging—if you decline her of her favorite thing to do in the bedroom. Watch out, she will pounce when you are not looking, and perhaps boot fuck when you least expect it, again like a feral dog.

"My love, please!" Tanya begs, pouting the best she could, trying to sway Y/n. "Honey, you have made a mess on both my legs, I have to clean myself up, and put an end to tonight's festivities. I'm sorry." Y/n stood, kissing her wife's cheek.

Tanya's pout deepens, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. An idea pops in her head, causing a sly grin to split her face. She speeds into the bathroom, running Y/n a bath while she worries about fixing the room.

Once the tub is full, she's tugging her loving wife into the bathroom with her, and instantly getting her in.

"You dirty, little girl." Y/n teases, feeling Tanya plop herself on her thigh, and starting to rock her hips.

Tanya grins, bracing her grip on her darlings shoulders. "Dirty? No, clean. You wanted to clean the mess I made and I'm not finished, that is called compromise." She pecks her love's grinning lips, riding her tired thigh.

'Compromise' happens a lot with Tanya. Finding a solution to both of your problems, still being able to be satisfied.

If she is misbehaving or being an asshole, you can always say: "Be good and I'll let you make a mess on my legs tonight, but be an asshole, and I won't let you touch me." That shuts her up, makes her behave, listen, and even have Kate whining to you, when she feels as if she is being mistreated.

Tanya is a strong woman, who is def a top/Dom, and wears the pants in the relationship, but pull the: I'm covering my legs or you are getting none of this. She's a flopping mess, suddenly turned baby bottom with amazing hearing and obedience.

She's folding in seconds.

Def following you around, waiting patiently to be whisked away into the bedroom.

:K.Denali:

Kate is 5,7ft, which is pretty tall, so finding someone that is even taller... Now that is something.

The very first time you both met Edward is reading her mind and is finding: "Well, damn! I can't wait to climb that tree, ohh baby!!" With her face looking like this: 🥴

She gives: Yeah, that's my wife vibes, I know she's a Goddess.

Deadass, flexing on the nearest person.

She wouldn't subject you to wearing only shorts around the house. She doesn't want her sisters or anyone who visits to get any ideas.

But show an inch of leg, she's going feral. Deadass, pulling out her dusty reading glasses or binoculars, and perching herself up on her legs, like a fucking pervert just to get a slight look at those stunning legs.

She calls you: Tall tree, supermodel, mommy-long-legs.

She would 100% love back rides, being carried (bridal style) around like a baby, and climbing your shoulders.

As much as she likes being the bigger spoon, you're taller than she is, so she would adore being the little spoon when cuddling.

Asking for uppies all the damn time!

If you're mad at her for whatever reason and state that you will kill her. Kate would happily die with her head squeezed between your thighs, and snapping her head clean from her body. She thinks that it's the most blessed, righteous, and holy way to die.

Loves to be wrapped up in your legs.

Either when you are cuddling, holding her when you are doing her make up or hair, or when she's going to town between your legs. Miss ma'am just loves being swaddled with your legs.

Do be careful, she may never wanna stop cuddling if it means being wrapped up in your legs. Would throw a fit if you decide that you're done.

Love's it when your legs are thrown over her shoulders when she's eating you out, oh goes nuts when you begin to suffocate her between your legs when cutting it close to the edge, legit feeds her pride. (She's a vampire, she doesn't need air.)

Ohhh, she loves eating you out. It's her favorite thing to do in the bedroom. It gives her a reason to come close to something she thinks as holy.

Kate smirks, loving her necklace, aka the legs of her wife. "You little shit!" Y/n growls, clenching her legs around Kate's neck, ready to decapitate her head.

She had pissed her off again, but at least she will die a glorious death. "Mmmh, I can smell hell from here. Harder Princezná, I think God's calling me." She encourages Y/n, feeling her tighten her hold.

Tanya along with Carmen. "No, Y/n let her go. She pissed you off but it doesn't mean you should kill your wife. Let her go!" Tanya orders, pulling Kate from her feet with Carmen's help.

Kate whines. "Noooo! Let go of my feet, let me die a beautiful death!"

She would legit piss you off on purpose, because one she enjoys it, two she thinks you look hot when you're mad, three if she plays her cards right she might die in the bedroom or on sight with you trying to decapitate her.

She would fight off anyone trying to obviously save her life.

She would hate it if you tease her for her height in public, but loves it when you are both in the comforts of your home.

Like Tanya, would wear your clothes, especially your sweaters, hoodies, and jackets. You'll have a hard time finding them or even her with how many layers she may wear at once, and hiding herself somewhere.

:I.Denali:

Irina is 5,9ft, making her the tallest among her sisters, so discovering, that her mate is far taller than she is, it's gonna crush her ego a bit.

But she would recover.

In fact, she's excited to find someone that is taller than herself. This means shopping for clothes pacifically tailored to both your heights, and complaining together when certain clothes don't work out. I imagine her saying: "Well this is bullshit..." With you nodding in agreement.

Legit catwalks/runway moments when trying on new clothes.

When she first laid eyes on you, she was checking out your boots, wanting to get her hands on them, thinking that she could do with the extra inch.

What she didn't expect was to find you attached to the said boots, instantly drooling. Glad she found someone, that is an absolute stunner and super model.

She loves it when you cuddle. Legit has no troubles with who gets to be the big spoon or little spoon, because she is pretty tall as well.

Love's it when you splay your legs over her lap when relaxing or reading or chatting. Would mindlessly caress your leg, regardless if it is bare or clothed.

She isn't one for uppies, but if she needs something she cannot reach, immediately calling for you, even though she's 5,9. But who knows, you might be far taller, which means if something is completely out of her reach, she is set.

Unlike her sisters, she isn't drooling or turning into a pervert when she catches a glimpse of your legs. No, she's chill and super cute when smothering her face in your lap.

She's a cutie.

Oh, but she's on her knees, so damn weak when it comes to scissoring.

Sure there is a bunch of long legs, but she loves it when you cage her with your legs, with the goal to grind your sex on hers.

And oh, miss ma'am is folding the moment you clasp your legs around her, oh she's yours, instantly melting.

"Ohh, try this one, I think it would look great on you!" Irina tosses a dress at Y/n, watching as she undresses herself for the tenth time.

"What do you think?" She comes up from behind, feeling her waist and hips, gliding her hands over her sides, and watching her love through the mirror.

"I think, that we should take a couple photos and perhaps have a little runway show."

Irina giggles with giddy excitement, already planning her outfit.

She would even trade clothes with you.

Sharing clothes becomes second nature and before you know it, you're both basically sharing one closet, wearing whatever works.

[skyesdaisys]

Hi! Love your work, could you write a dick Grayson fanfic abt him and a quiet female reader warming up to each other (set between season 1 and 2)?

yes, of course!!!! god, i've wanted to write for titans on here so bad i just didn't have the inspo so thank you<333

—

talk to him

titans dick grayson x fem!reader

sunmary: you weren't exactly much of a people person. especially since you were 1 of 2 adults living in a huge tower in san francisco, watching over 3 kids you don't really talk to outside of training. and the only other adult being closed off so who knows what'll happen when he decides to talk to you out of no where

cw: not much, there's just some fluff with a teaspoon of angst because of communication issues (they both suck at small talk and beyond)

a/n: idc what anyone says about this show, it's given me so much comfort and a lot of fun and likable characters. so i'm so glad i can write for them as long as you guys send requests for them. as well as other characters from other shows like yellowjackets and etc. also i love dick grayson, even though he can be a bit annoying in this show (that i can admit) but he's hot so ajsjfndmfmf. also, i'm sorry it took sooooo long, writers block got to me badly these past few months, so i apologize if it's cringey and awkward. but i do give the benefit the doubt here because this story is suppose to be like that (also the fact i'm projecting my "bad at small talk" trait here). two grown adults that can't seem to have a normal conversation, like at all

after the trigon incident you were dragged in by circumstance, you were the only other adult to volunteer to help dick with... whatever he was doing. you didn't have any life to go back to anyways, and you made a connection to everyone else so why part ways and it be unlikely to see them again. sure, you weren't particularly close with the kids, but, what are you supposed to do in order to bond with them? so that left dick in titans tower, but he wasn't as much of a talker as you outside of training.

everyday for the past few weeks have been, eat, train, sleep, repeat on a loop, no 'how was your day' questions, because the days are always the same so there wasn't any point of asking. and you could tell the kids were getting bored of it, very fast, and you could not blame them. being stuck in a repeating pattern with nothing else happening started getting old after the first couple weeks. so, you didn't really know how long it would take til something changed, it couldn't be like this forever.

during this time, you admired the grayson from afar, he was attractive, what else could you say? you weren't an idiot. and you also were aware of his previous entanglements with kory and you didn't wanna be involved in that. and, well... you felt like a teenage girl having a crush on a guy who was going through some shit, so it was better not to bother him.

and not being much of a talker doesn't make the conversation about feelings be any better. like, maybe this was attraction and nothing more? you were aware of the difference between liking someone physically and liking them emotionally (specifically in a romantic sense). but even as you admired him, you learn things about him, paying attention to the little things. deep down, he cared for other people, if he didn't, he wouldn't have taken rachel in and helped her, and he wouldn't have done the same for gar or jason either. people just have their own way of showing their love and care.

but your admiring wasn't exactly subtle. rachel had noticed it when you were looking at dick from across the room, talking with jason. the roth wasn't sugarcoating anything when it came to this, "you keep staring, you're probably gonna be capable of shooting lazers from your eyes." and you knew she was joking around but she caught you by surprise, making you face the young girl. "why is it any of your business?"

"because it's kind of sad seeing you pine for him like this." she points out, "and also, gar and jason made a bet whether or not you'd confess. we have eyes, you know?" and she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers with a smile on her face, "and i'm sure dick feels the same way, though he's not very good of showing it."

"that is ridiculous." you shake your head, "one, i don't like him. not like that. i just think he's cool."

"are you sure about that?" the roth rose her eyebrow, "talk to him." but you were not moving from where you were so rachel decided to take matters into her own hands, she then gave you a push (a literal one) towards him, and now you couldn't run away. all you could say was, "hey..."

"hey." he responded. jason just stood there awkwardly in between the two of you, "okay, well uh—" he pretends to look at a watch that's not even on his wrist, "look at the time, i must be going." and he had immediately ran out of there before dick tried to stop him. there was an silent pause and you were trying to figure out what to say, but before you could, he asks, "do you want some coffee?" all you did was nod. after that, there was even more silence, you two haven't had a conversation that wasn't training related in like, a while. it just felt like you were both strangers who didn't know each other nor were you fond of one another.

"you're just as bad at small talk as i am, huh?" you finally had spoken up. and dick just shook his head, "i don't know what you're talking about, i know how to make small talk."

"oh really?" you rose up your eyebrow, "okay mr. 'i know how to make small talk', what do you wanna talk about? and please, don't let it be training related. because if i have to hear you talk about that one more time, my head is gonna explode." you tried to look irritated, but he could notice a small smile on your face. then he immediately went into the 'deep, emotional' stuff, "you never told me why you came here. you just did, and i'm surprised you stuck around as long as you have."

you answered it anyway, because why not, "well, it's not like i have anywhere else to go." you set down your drink, making direct eye contact at him, "besides, the second i got here, and realized how big this place is and i have my own room... what, did you expect me to pass it up?" and you ended up making him laugh, which was surprising, "what is so funny, i'm just being honest." you were unsure why he was laughing, so you just took a sip of your coffee. he explained, "your honesty is refreshing, that's all."

"really?" and he nodded as a reply. you just sighed, taking your coffee and leaving. it's not like you had anything else to talk about and just sitting there would make it more awkward, so you just left. does it make it any less weird? absolutely not.

you guys didn't talk much after in the next few days, up until you decided to play hero on solo when you see a woman getting mugged by this guy in a mask. it was like one of the many movie cliches that you see brought into reality.

too bad it didn't turn out like expected, where you got shot in the leg. thankfully, the kids were able to track you down and bring you to the infirmary, gar was trying his best to patch you up and rachel was there for emotional support. as for jason... there wasn't much else he can do than just stand watch, up until dick had walked in with a worried expression, and the three teens immediately rushed out of there as soon as he walked in the room. you could've left if you wanted too but, obviously you couldn't.

"jesus fuck, you could've gotten yourself killed, what were you thinking?" all of his emotions were being let out in that moment, it was the most emotion you've seen him express towards you in like... ever. yet you couldn't help but be a bit sarcastic, "yeah, keep yelling... it's not like i'm literally a few feet away from you or whatever."

dick sat on the edge of the bed and started to explain, "sorry, it's just... when i heard what happened, i didn't know how to feel, or express it correctly." he gently set his hand on your injured leg, softly, "just if anything happened to you, i—"

"i'm tougher than you think, grayson." you reassured him, and you noticed a tiny smile creeping up on his face.

"i know it's just... i don't wanna lose anyone else."

you lean up a bit to set your hand on his shoulder, "i'm not going anywhere, dick." you then stopped for a second as you come to realize, "and we just had a conversation that didn't involve small talk. maybe i should get myself hurt more often." you were obviously joking at that last part, but dick's reaction to it was priceless, "i'm kidding. you are just... not what i expected."

"the feeling is mutual."

a part of you wanted to kiss him, that it felt right, but another part was saying how the timing of it all wasn't. and maybe these feelings you're having are actually real. because now, there was something in your heart that was growing that wasn't just admiration, and it felt weird, but a good weird.

maybe when the timing is right, they'll get to it, but until then, your growing friendship in the moment is enough for now.

[pressplay-if]

F*ck yes i loved that new update, loved basically everything about it, especially how the characters throw in how the mc is percieved....i love it.

I have to things i wanna say tho, nothing bad promise :) I get some things that are set with the mc, but there are some things that just kinda bother me(subjectively speaking here of course)

1: But why does mc not have a drivers license for instance, i get that poor mc would maybe not have had the funds for it, but a rich one had, and i imagine that the parents would have insisted they do one so that they can drive to important meetings to get a real job etc. yk what i mean?

2: So mc can only do vocals and sucks at everything else...feels kinda like mc is suuuper useless, like a magicarp that couldn't even perform splash, or a bird without wings etc. like i get that mc is more focused on singing and vocals but i would say that it would only make sense that mc can at least play one instrument(like many real artists/musicians do) so that when they are stuck in a loop maybe they can distract themself or smth yk to get back on the grind etc.?

Also wouldn't this mean, that if mc got sick and maybe lost their voice for a time or completely they would be even more useless....like a stone that wants to fly. And i don't mean to be rude here or something cause i genuinely like this game and the characters, but mc feels soo limited yk, and i know we still have only seen a little about mc but i would say that we should at least have one more hobby or smth.

Of course this is only my subjective opinion and please don't feel pressured to change anything, cause this is your story and you can do whatever you want with it, i just thought that i could give my two cents to it. Anyways have a good day and stay hydrated.

Heyooo ok so you really picked apart the MC lol but I totally laughed at how you described that 😂 a stone trying to fly

MC can actually drive, they just don't own a vehicle. That's because I wanna make a whole big thing about them getting their first own car/motorbike once the cash comes in you know 💖 also, it creates some nice little scenes like the cuddling Angel-option. But don't worry, MC can drive and will drive

MC doesn't like "suck" at everything else. They can play a little rhythm guitar and also they write most of the band's songs, so they're far from useless, even though they may not play another instrument (at the moment; I think I'm gonna add that option). So they're integral to the band, because even when it's Stevie writing the songs, she only ever writes for the MC. MC is very distinctive. It's interesting that you bring up MC losing their voice though bc that may or may not be a plot point later on. MC not really having another hobby is also kind of intentional. They will shift and change, but at this stage, you're playing as a very obsessed little creature. Their only real hobby besides singing rn is collecting vinyls. So I totally get what you're saying and I understand MC feels limited, but rn, that's kind of just how they are. Things may change. Others may not. Chapter 2 will give a lot more insight on MC, and a bunch more choices for y'all to make about them.

[azrielsdove]

Jealousy, Jealousy: Lucien x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+

***

He had no claim to you, no reason to be so jealous as he watched you with the Shadowsinger. The way you threw your head back in laughter, holding onto his arm. The way he looked at you, like you were the brightest star in the universe. Which, to be fair, you were. Lucien couldn’t deny it.

He wanted you. He’d been obsessing over you for a century now, since the first time you visited the Spring Court. Rhysand had sent you, his emissary, to meet with Lucien. He took one look at you and knew it was over for him.

And now he was mated to someone else. Told by the cauldron that Elain was the one made for him, the one he was made for. Lucien felt that had to be wrong. How could it be true, when he still only had eyes for you? He tried with Elain, he was kind, cordial. It didn’t help that she wanted nothing to do with him.

He watched as Azriel pulled you onto his lap, his fingers trailing up and down your thigh. He watched as you whispered something in his ear, ending it with a kiss to his skin. His hand tightened on his glass, the whiskey burning wonderfully as he sipped it. He felt the fire under his skin, knowing he was ready to burst into flames. It should be his lap you were sitting on, his fingers running up your exposed leg.

Lucien was aware that he was staring, that it was obvious to anyone who looked at him what was wrong. He was past the point of caring. He had wanted you for so long, so long, and was now forced to watch you choose another.

Of course, he had his chance with you many moons ago. Before Amarantha, before the war, before Elain. Her name ran around his head like a curse. He took another drink, becoming lost in his memories.

“Lucien!” You gasped, splashing the water back at him. On your latest visit to the Spring Court he had decided to take you to the pool of starlight. He knew you would appreciate its beauty, especially being from the Night Court. Your eyes had lit up in a most delightful way, Lucien’s heart beating fast at the sight. You wasted no time stripping down to your underclothes, dipping into the stars.

Lucien followed quickly after, pulling his shirt and trousers off. He laughed as you watched the liquid drip through your fingers, a joy he’d never seen shining on your face. If he wasn’t in love with you before, he certainly was now.

He swam up behind you, splashing the water onto you. He melted at your laughter when you turned, splashing back at him. He couldn’t help himself, swimming closer to you. His arms hesitantly wrapped around your waist, his fingers tingling at the feel of you under them.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, nose brushing your cheek. You sucked in a sharp breath, a quiet “Yes,” coming in response. His hands had cautiously traveled up and down your skin, pulling you ever closer. Your hands had trailed down his chest, memorizing the feel of him.

Lucien couldn’t stop himself when he pressed a kiss to your neck, arms tensing at your answering moan. He had waited so long for this, so long to touch you. He pulled back enough to look into your eyes, wanting to see you. You looked back with flushed cheeks, mouth slightly parted. “Lu,” you said, gaze flicking down to his lips, “Are you going to kiss me?”

He was. He cupped the back of your neck, angling your head up to his. He leaned down, lips millimeters from yours when a sharp laugh pulled the two of you out of the moment. Lucien looked towards the sound, ready to murder whoever it was.

Tamlin.

“Is this what you do, emissary’s? Use your positions to whore about?” You pulled away from Lucien as though he had burned you, your face pale. He was going to kill Tam, and the look he shot him conveyed that. Lucien swam to the edge, pulling himself out of the pool to stand in front of his High Lord.

“What bother is it to you, Tamlin?” He asked, voice cold. He watched as his friend rolled his eyes, looking back over to you.

“How can you trust that she’s not just using you to find private information? You know how the Night Court is, she’s probably Rhysands own fuck piece sent here to seduce you.” Tamlins words struck Lucien exactly how he intended, anger coursing through him.

“We haven’t spoken about you or this Court. Not everything revolves around you.” Lucien shot back, fists clenching.

Tamlin laughed. “It does when your job is to report about my court to her. I want her gone, and I don’t want her coming back.” He turned to address you. “Tell your High Lord to send someone else next time.”

Then he was gone.

Lucien spun back to face you, apology all over his face. You were already out of the pool, hastily pulling your clothes on. “I should go.” you said, refusing to look at him. Lucien called your name, but you had already winnowed away. He was left standing there by the edge of the pool, feeling the way you slipped through his fingers.

The memory burned in his mind, fresh anger coming to the surface. His gaze flitted back to you and the Shadowsinger, feeling painfully hot as you leaned down to kiss him. He watched his hand thread up into your hair, the other grip onto your thigh. He heard the breathy moans you were giving him, so similar to that day in the pool of starlight.

Lucien couldn’t take this anymore. He stood abruptly, not caring to speak to anyone. He turned and left the room, heading to the kitchen to find something stronger to drink.

***

READER POV

You reached your tipping point when you watched Elain spend another holiday ignoring her mate. You had wanted Lucien since the first time you met him, knowing he was the most handsome male you would ever see. Unfortunately you were there to do a job, not jump his bones.

You enjoyed the way the two of you created a friendship overtime, toeing the line between friends and more. That day in the starlight pool you thought all your dreams were coming true, you finally were going to taste him.

Until Tamlin had ruined everything.

You left before Lucien could say anything, mortified beyond belief. Rhys started sending Azriel after that, since you were basically banned from the Spring Court. Lucien came to the Hewn City from time to time, and you always made sure to be there. Not that the two of you ever got a chance to talk, but it was nice to just see he was okay.

You remembered the pain in your heart at seeing the fresh scar on his face when he came to warn Rhys about Amarantha. You could still feel the anger the coursed through you, the rage that made you want to go Under the Mountain and kill her yourself.

It was shortly after that Rhysand was trapped down there with her. The 49 years after were some of the worst you and your friends had ever experienced. You knew you were lucky, stuck protecting Velaris. Though it didn’t dull the ache in your heart, the worry for Rhys and Lucien. You knew Amarantha wanted Tamlin, and that he had declined her. You had already seen what she did to Lucien once, not wanting to know what else she was willing to do.

You wanted to ask Rhys about him when he came back, but it wasn’t the right time. It never was. You kept your concerns for the Autumn Court son hidden, too much going on to voice them. When you found out he and Tamlin had cursed Feyre and her sisters, you felt like you were being split in two.

No, you had thought, locked away in your room. Lucien would never do that. You were crushed when Rhys showed you his memories of the night, showed you Lucien standing next to Tamlin. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces when he fell to his knees, gasping that Elain was his mate. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and many nights after.

Now it had been some years since those events, and Elain still acted like Lucien was dirt on the ground. You could tell she desired Azriel, your closest friend. This hatched your plan for the coming Solstice.

You had approached Azriel some days before the party, giving him your idea. You were thrilled when he instantly agreed, eyes flickering with the same wicked excitement as yours. If Lucien and Elain wouldn’t admit their feelings for the two of you, you would simply make them so jealous they had to.

That’s what lead you here, sliding yourself on Azriels lap. You loved your friend, but you had never seen him in this way. That’s what made this plan so good, so perfect. You knew you could fuck Azriel and still be in love with Lucien. Not that this would go that far, you didn’t think.

You allowed Azriels fingers to trail up and down your thigh, not hiding the warmth inside you at his touch. You leaned down to whisper in his ear; “Do you see the way he’s looking at us?”, kissing the spot when you were done. Azriel smiled up to you, knowing Elain was looking much the same.

You began to kiss up and down his neck, his hand gripping the top of your thigh. You couldn’t deny that his little groans filled you with heat, but you so desperately wished they were Lucien’s. You made your way up to his lips, allowing his hand to come up into your hair and deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help the initial moan that escaped as his tongue skillfully massaged yours, it having been so long since you were touched like this. Azriel raked his nails across your thigh, a silent Do that again. You allowed more moans to fall from you, realizing it must be driving Lucien insane.

You stopped when you heard the unmistakable sound of someone storming out of the room. You pulled from Azriel, pleased when you saw Lucien was missing. “Mission success, it seems.” You murmured to him, glancing over to an extremely uncomfortable Elain. “You better go help your girl.” You teased, sliding off his lap. He caught your hand, pressing a ‘thank you’ to your knuckles. You smiled, turning to chase after an undoubtedly heated Lucien.

***

You found him in the kitchen, shooting back whatever hard liquor he had found. “Something wrong, Lucien?”, you asked coyly. He whipped around to look at you, shock on his face. You moved closer to him, gaze heavy. “Jealous, perhaps?”, you said, placing a hand on his chest. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingers.

“What are you doing?” He asked gruffly, setting the shot glass down behind him. “You know I can’t be with you, Elain-“.

You cut him off. “Enough with her. Has she even looked at you in the last year?” You couldn’t help the upset tone of your voice. “You need someone who wants you.” You dropped your hand to his belt, pulling his hips flush to yours. “Someone who has always wanted you.”

You watch the internal battle he is having, ever too good of a man. You know he doesn’t want to betray Elain, but is it truly betraying her if she acts like he doesn’t exist? You had waited for him for so many years, cared for him. You would give him a happy life, a life full of love and light. What does Elain have to offer?

Your other hand comes up to trace his arms, traveling up to his neck. You stand on your toes, pressing a barely there kiss to his skin. “Lu,” you cooed, kissing his neck again. “You are too beautiful to be lonely any longer.” You bit down at the end of the words, tongue soothing the mark.

That caused him to lose the war in his mind.

He grabbed your waist, spinning you around to set you on the counter behind him. He knocked your knees apart, stepping between your legs as his hands dropped to pull you tight against him. The heat in your belly tightened when you felt his hard length against you.

“I have waited too long to do this.” He muttered before finally pressing his lips to yours. You opened your mouth to him immediately, years of desire pouring out of you. He brought a hand up to cup your face, taking his time as he kissed you. You tangled one hand in those perfect red strands, wrapping them around your fingers. This felt right, you felt whole.

Lucien increased the heat of the kiss, the hand on your thigh rubbing circles on the skin. You needed him, needed him like you needed air to live. You ground your hips against his, relishing in the soft groan he released. “Do that again,” he spoke against your lips, “and I will fuck you right here, where anyone can see.”

You moaned at his words, not wasting a second as you pushed your hips against him again. The hand on your face moved to your throat, pressing hard enough to cut off oxygen. Lightning shot through you at the heat of it all, at the dominant look in his eyes. “You asked for it.” He growled, the hand on your thigh sliding under your skirt and tracing you over the delicate underwear you had one. You arched into his touch, a soft moan falling from you.

Lucien grinned, pushing his fingers under the lace covering you. He slid them through the wetness pooled there, the evidence of your desire. “Dirty girl,” he purred, dipping his fingertips inside of you. “How many times have you dreamt of me touching you like this?” You whined at his touch and his words, trying to push your hips down onto his fingers. He pulled away at that, tutting at you. “Oh, pretty girl. I have waited decades to have my hands on you. Let me play.”

You snapped at the pure seduction coming from his mouth, fisting his shirt as you dragged his lips back to yours. You kissed him hard, begging for his touch back. He wasted no time in sliding his fingers back to you, bringing them up to circle your clit. You cried out into this kiss, the heat in you building. You felt him smile against your lips as one finger slid inside you. You moaned at the feeling of him, his finger exploring you. “More, Lucien.” You gasped out, other hand coming up to grab onto his back. He obeyed, pushing a second finger into you and curling them deliciously. Moan after moan fell from your lips as he worked you, his thumb coming up to rub you. His tongue was punishing on yours, the years of longing speeding your orgasm up. “Oh, Lu, I’m gonna-“ You mumbled against him, clenching as the pleasure washed over you. Cries fell from you while he pushed you through it, prolonging the feeling as much as possible. You dug your nails into his skin, struggling to remember how to breathe.

He slowed his movements, pulling his fingers from you. He dragged them up to your mouth, tapping your lips. “Suck.” He commanded, pupils blown wide as you obediently pulled his fingers into your mouth. You sucked the taste of you off of them, keeping eye contact the whole time. You licked up his fingers, showing him what you could do to another body part of his. He groaned, throwing his head back as he took his fingers from your mouth. He leaned down to place a kiss to your perfect lips, whispering “Next time” against them.

Lucien dragged you off the counter, flipping you to face it. He put your hands flat on the marble in front of you, kissing behind your ear. “Hands stay here while I fuck you.”

You could have came again at those words alone.

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, trying to turn to see him. He grabbed the back of your head, turning you back to the counter. “Patience.” He said, the pain of his hand gripping your hair turning to pleasure. You pushed your ass against him, desperate for him. He chuckled before sliding the tip of him through your wetness. Gods, he felt huge. “Are you ready, my perfect girl?” He asked, waiting for your permission. You nodded quickly, a strained “Yes, please” coming out.

You gasped as he pushed the first few inches in, scratching your nails against the polished marble in front of you. He stretched you in a most delicious way, leaving you begging for more. “Lu, please. More.” you whined out, moaning as he pushed in farther. You thought he must be in by now, back arching when he went even deeper. He was going to destroy you.

Lucien bottomed out, staying still for a moment. You cried out, “Move, Lucien. Please.” He pulled you up by your hair, the other hand coming to push on your stomach to keep you close. He pulled out all the way, thrusting his full length back in in one move. You gave a scream, hand falling to hold onto the arm in front of you. Lucien growled in your ear, lost in the pleasure of being inside you.

He fucked into you hard, eating up the moans and cries you let out. His hand slid down to circle your clit again, brining your orgasm closer. “I want you to come with me, my love.” He whispered into your hair, kissing any part of you he could reach. You gave a moan of agreement, feeling seconds away from finishing again. “Wait until I say.” He commanded, quickening his movements on you. You felt ready to snap, fighting hard to keep your orgasm at bay. You whimpered at the effort, body clenching tight around Lucien. His groan in your ear let you know he was close, his thrusts beginning to become sloppy. “Now, love.” He whispered, the fingers on you unrelenting. You came with a scream of his name, feeling him spill into you moments later. His fingers rode you through your high, stopping once you were shaking with overstimulation.

You stood there for a moment, the two of you breathing heavy. Lucien slowly pulled out, you already feeling empty now that he was gone. He moved your underwear back to cover you, straightening your skirts. You turned to face him, fixing his pants back. He looked down at you, eyes connecting with yours. You had a million things to say, forgetting all of them as you stared at him.

He leaned down, kissing you softly. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years.” He whispered, your heart soaring. You smiled up at him, bringing him close. “As have I.” You confessed, happy to not have to hide anymore after so long.

A quiet cough sounded from the entry to the kitchen, catching you attention. You peered over Lucien’s shoulder to see Azriel, a cheeky smirk on his face. He definitely heard all of it. “So I take it our plan worked, then?”

Lucien turned to you, a question in his eyes. You twirled a piece of his hair between his fingers, explaining that you were messing with Azriel to make him jealous. His hands tightened on your waist, the ghost of a smile visible on his lips. He nodded when you were done, turning back to the male in the doorway.

“Thanks for making me realize what a fool I have been,” Lucien began, “but if you touch her like that again, I will snap your arm in half.”

***

i loveeeee some good jealousy !!! please keep leaving feedback and sending requests. i hope you guys enjoyed this one <3

[sporesgalaxy]

I’ve thought about it some more and I want to rephrase: the specific thing about the way Dungeon Meshi handles gender and autism that makes me bonkers is the blunt way the author states the differences between Laios and Falin’s treatment by the world. If Falin had been the one to try and carve out a space for the both of them, she would have been dismissed at best. But Laios was the one to try that, and for the crime of being a big autistic man, he was beaten for it. Many- most, even- aspects of this world and the real world favor men, when a gender or presentation is favored. Misogyny is extremely present in so many of our lives. But it is naive to pretend that there are no downsides to being seen as a man, especially one of color, or one that’s not neurotypical, or any number of things. Falin faces unique struggles as an autistic woman, usually internal, and usually to do with the social pressures placed on her to be seen as nothing but agreeable. But Laios faces unique struggles as an autistic man, like getting the shit kicked out of him or punched in the face or having people plot to kill him.

I’m super not trying to say that either has it better. Facing conflict because you are incapable of not presenting as exactly the kind of person you are isn’t inherently worse or better than being unable to present at all, trapped within yourself. But the way it’s presented in Dungeon Meshi is fascinating to me.

Ok so first of all I want you to know I GET IT. I HAVE SEEN HOW BAD IT CAN SUCK FOR AUTISTIC MEN IN A LOUD AND OPEN AND PHYSICAL WAY and how NO ONE FUCKING DOES ANYTHING ABOUT IT because Guys Are Supposed To Be Tough and You Should Just Stop Acting Weird And Having Feelings and all that bullshit!!!!!!! I watched that happen to someone very close to me over the course of My Whole Childhood. It's fucking dismal and it makes me really happy to see a character like Laios where those struggles are front and center.

BUT! I also want to point out that your wording here, altho it is not your intention to belittle Falin's suffering, makes it seem like her/typical autistic women's suffering is wholly immaterial. Which is NOT true. It's not that Falin's emotional suffering is equal to Laios' physical suffering, it's that their autism/neurodivergence makes them both vulnerable to physical AND emotional abuse, but in different ways because of gendered social dynamics.

•••

(Quick aside: non-autistic men and women both experience physical as well as emotional abuse because of their percieved gender as well, btw. Yes, men get priveleges, but patriarchy harms them, too. You know what, this video discussing the strengths and weaknesses of The Barbie Movie actually explains it really really well. Anyways, back to the main point.)

Due to the different gendered social expectations placed on men and women, yes, men are more likely to escalate social conflict to physically fighting each other. But the same way that doesn't mean that there's NO emotionally abusive aspect to men's social punishment for being too different, the fact that women are expected to use emotionally abusive tactics to address social conflict does NOT mean that there is no physically abusive aspect to the ways that autistic women are mistreated.

The same way Laios' inability to hide his autistic traits puts him at risk for both getting the shit beaten out of him AND being lied to for purely social reasons, Falin's coping strategy of being agreeable puts her at risk for being shunned emotionally AND enduring physical harassment.

If Falin had tried to actively & forcefully carve out a place for herself and Laios in the world, dismissal is NOT the worst that could have happened to her. What Falin's childhood experience being subjected to folk rituals by her mother and rejection from the town REALLY shows us is that, if Falin was TOO unnacceptable to the people around her it would have become someone else's responsibility to "fix" or "cure" her. Her parents', or a doctor's, or a betrothed.

I'll try to find it later, but in one of the bonus comics where we learn more about the Touden sibs' relationships to their parents, one of the things we learn is that their mother tried to "treat" Falin's magical abilities using a variety of ineffective folk cures. Their mother felt pressured to do this by the townspeople's very negative response to Falin's magical abilities, which along with their father seeking advice from a Gnome, proves that the threat against Falin was not completely in Laios' head.

Falin says she saw this as quality time with her mother, but...I mean, girls with unhealthy relationships to their bodies often see childhood dieting and clothes shopping with their mothers as quality time, even if that "quality time" instilled in them a deep-seated belief that they should mistreat their bodies and view themselves as objects to be consumed. Just because Falin thinks of it as quality time now does NOT mean that there was no damage done.

In a world where her social and fiscal autonomy are already highly limited, Falin's physical autonomy is threatened by her neurodivergence, just in a more roundabout way than Laios' is.

[fuzziemutt]

On the views of Rio in relation to Miguel within fandom

There's something I'm commonly seeing that has been worrying me which is the depictions of Rio "latina mom-ing" Miguel.

This includes Rio:

- slapping him

- coming at him with "the chancla"

- "dressing him down" verbally or yelling

- humiliating him

- straight up just... Beating him up

And I'm bringing this up because guys... This shit be low-key racist. I know racism towards latines has already been a problem (Yes. I am gesturing to the everything that is how Miguel is treated within the fandom), but I personally wanted to bring up this issue as well as I'm unsure if others have talked about it- and we all know how suck ass searching anything on this site is.

Anyways, I won't lie. I don't know how many latines are making these jokes, but it being so prevalent being her "main" interactions makes me feel even if it started as a latine joke, it sure as hell didn't stay that way.

But the depiction of Latina women as fierce, aggressive and (yes it is) straight up physically abusive (in general words) is a major fucking Problem. Latinas are often depicted in media as these "feisty exotic women" who takes no shit. Perpetuating that with Rio does not feel as #girl power as you guys might think. It feels like a step back in treating latinas not as these power houses but as... Y'know... People who aren't depicted as aggressors 24/7....

But also I really hate this cutesy look at what is a serious issue within latine communities. It's always "ha ha funny" seeing a Latina mom beating someone's ass but guys. That is still physical abuse. That is a serious issue and discussion that is held within the latine community. And seeing it so casually assigned to Rio kind of makes me feel sick.

And this isn't even tacking on that you're having a Latina beating/acting aggressive towards a canonical child abuse survivor (yes. Miguel is a child abuse survivor.) Which adds a whole new layer of how shitty this actually is.

Because I hate how people are boiling Rio down to just being an aggressor towards Miguel to "put him in his place". That's discrediting her character so badly.

Yes, latinas can be strong. Yes, latinas can be angry. Yes, latinas can get aggressive.

These are things people are and do because people are complex.

But I really need the fandom to stop for a second and really think about how they saw Rio, witnessed her give her heart on the screen, - a mom who's trying so hard to break these cycles of yelling and humiliation with kindness and understanding (even being a foil to Jeff's strong headed approach on purpose) -

took her and said "she would perpetuate a real cycle of abuse towards a fellow latino because he's the 'bad one'" and laughed.

I know you guys are depicting her like this as a means to defend Miles, but maybe not like this. Her character doesn't deserve being so bastardized like this for your stolen joke.

(which this whole "need" to defend him in the first place points right back to the racism towards Miguel if we're honest. I have complex thoughts on Miguel's interactions with Miles especially involving the end train scene but boiling a traumatized Latino man down to just being an "aggressive threat" that needs to be "put in place" as I've mentioned above is racist as hell too.)

You guys can reblog this, but don't fucking guilt trip people into reblogging this okay? I'm not giving you brownie points for that shit.

[cat-autism-wizard]

imagine casper high goes to a school trip to a museum a few hours out of the amity park and every senior gets paired up with two sophomores. fentons were paired up which is easier for danny if theres a ghost emergency but still unhappy bc pairing up with your genius sister that you are always compared to in a school trip sucks. and whos the second sophomore you may ask, its wes fucking weston.

danny blames the fenton luck for that. none of them are happy with the arrangement other than jazz. jazz heard about wes but never got to meet him and she wants to psychoanalyze him so shes happy.

at the trip the three of them goes to some kind of a shop and as they were paying, the cashier asks jazz if she brought her brother and his friend. she laughs and says yes then the cashier points at wes and compliments him and jazz about how similar they look and jokes about strong genes.

danny was OFFENDED. at first wes was also offended but after seeing how much it bothers danny he decided to play along. the rest of the trip wes acted like jazz was his sister just to piss of danny. which wasnt that hard wes was the youngest of three, he didnt have a sister but had two brothers (easton who was almost five years older and kyle who was just a year older but wouldnt stop shove it in wes' face that he was older) so it wasnt that hard for wes to act like a little brother. after a while he actually enjoyed 'having a sister'. jazz didnt really mind wes but took a mental note to ask about his family to understand him better.

danny was still pissed (and jealous that he was 'sharing' his sister but he would NOT admit this to anyone) but find it oddly fun to pair up with wes (other than the parts where wes acted like jazz was his sister or trying to ask questions about ghosts). wes knew a lot about different things. especially about the ancient greek. he says its bc he likes searching stuff he sees. and for wes even though he would rather DIE to admit he enjoyed danny's company. as much as people way danny was the stupid one in a family of geniuses wes knew it was wrong. the trip proved it to him once again.

danny wouldnt shut up about how some machines worked and ancients forbid when they entered the space part of the museum danny took over all the explanations with too much details. jazz on the other hand could see how much the two boys would get along if they dropped their stupid beef.

jazz listened both of them infodumping about their interest with a smile on her face, sometimes adding her own opinion or the missed little informations or fun fact about them. on some occasions sam and tucker would flee from their own groups to join them and quite enjoyed it. when wes talked about ancient greek sam would join in and when danny talked about mechanics tucker would join in with him.

in the end of the trip jazz bought little souvenirs for both of the boys and for herself. a little matching key chains. they acted like that was cringe and that they would never use it.

a week later jazz saw that little key chain on danny's pencil case. a few days later she also saw it hanging on wes' bag.

[corpseconvulsive]

Hi! My name is August and im here to address the rumors of Toby/Plague, a cosplayer and content creator being a groomer and other accusations made within the last few days

You may recognize my name from other posts made regarding myself and other rumors including the rumor that i am one of the people Toby is grooming, which is devastating in my eyes because never once has Toby acted in a predatory way towards me, he is truly one of the coolest dudes ever.

Why did this rumor start? Its because of one screenshot where i am describing that i am cold and toby makes a joke saying he will “wrap his feet around me” which was obviously a joke, wrapping your whole ass feet around someone is not even humanly possible?

I fully consent to the sexual and darker jokes and fully enjoy them as we use in private in our servers for just ourselves and friends watering our humor down in the Blood of Salvation server, Toby always makes sure to respect a boundary if it is brought to his attention, still TO THIS DAY i am asked at least twice a month sometimes even three times if my boundaries have changed, the only one being to not make fun of me for my weight as it makes me incredibly insecure, Toby has never broken that boundary. If people had an issue with our humor, we have always communicated in the server that they can message a moderator to discuss any issues, no one ever messaged us saying they felt uncomfortable.

I can address that our humor is quite sexual and dark to begin with, however if toby is not personally friends, he controls his humor ESPECIALLY around minors, there have been many occasions where Toby has mentioned he is kind of sick of minors joining the server just because they simp and suck up to him and how gross he feels when people act like that just because the find him hot.

Majority of the jokes made were in a chat where only the moderators and admins can talk which you can choose if you want the channel to be visible or not, all moderators who are close friends talk here, we didnt say many of the screenshots shown to random members although we should have been more careful with what we say as some people are incredibly young.

Also the way this was handled was horrendous, Seirei has a large platform that i stopped following a few months ago, her content was great in my eyes and i completely idolized her because she seemed really cool, however things like calling ticci toby an abuser and other drama that arised has caused me to stop following her. She should have handled it like an adult and talked to everyone mentioned to get both sides as some people involved are minors which is so dangerous seeing how people are being doxxed now, some involved are as young as 14. Seirei’s posts are in my eyes, the reason this stupid situation has gotten to the point people have begun doxxing Toby and others, this in my eyes, is terrible, even for the ones making up these rumors and statements that are being doxed as well. I have no respect for those making up these things about my friend, however i think everyone deserves the right to feel safe in there own home without worrying about there information being leaked and something happening to them.

I have messaged Seirei who said to message her if you have more information or input as it says on her tiktok, explaining that Toby is indeed not a fucking creep towards me, is definetly not grooming me as I know the signs I have been groomed twice in my life for long periods of time such as 2-3 years starting before i was even a teenager, and about screenshots and things said about me in general regarding an old situationship. Seirei has not acknowledged my message along with another friend who has messaged her for a simple question.

Regarding the things with my ex situationship, i do not know why it is being brought up as it was irrelevant to this however all i will say is yes i sent her nudes however she did happen to start sending them first and it was a common thing for us to act sexual with one another, also one of the people who happens to be making accusations about Toby has told me i must not have sexual trauma if i sent nudes to her when I admitted i was a victim of sa and grooming which is a horrible thing to say to any victim to disregard what happened to them, it is not right and vile to do that to any victim no matter what abuse they have trauma and scars from, especially when some have developed hypersexuality from the trauma such as myself.

I would also like to discuss how these people accusing toby are hypocritical as well, they act like they have not done similar things while they have.

Robin, someone who started this mainly from what i know, loves to simp and support Jimmy Urine, who if you dont know who that is, he is a giant pedophile and was the singer of MSI(Mindless Self Indulgence). He has been charged with sexual battery against minors and they fully support this man and call him hot and basically drool all over him.

Virus is a person Toby used to be friends with before i came into the picture, a minor who said sexual shit and has wrote multiple in depth paragraphs about wanting to do sexual things with Toby as a minor before Toby finally kicked him from the server and blocked him entirely due to the shit he was saying. When i became friends with Toby I had heard stories about Virus as the server was still below 100 members(believe i was the 96th member after i messaged Toby asking if he had a server since his discord was on his IG) so the server was a close tight knit group with the moderators and there friends before it was opened for the public. After making it public Virus made MULTIPLE TikTok accounts and Discord accounts to join the server after being banned for his weird actions, how do we know? Because this dude kept posting art in his style, I was one of the people who analyzed the art as I am an artist myself, the eyes, nose, face shape, style, is all the same. He even presented us with a fake tiktok account, it was him in a red curly wig, same background as his other tiktoks. He is obsessed and seems to come back at least once every month or two.

Many others have made r34 of characters which is gross, like i mentioned before told me i couldnt have been sa’d and groomed if i sent nudes, someone tried accusing me that i was an adult talking to my situationship who is a minor despite the fact that my ex situationship was older than me, accused Toby of asking a minor to show him their tits as a joke meanwhile the “minor” i question is our friend Kat who is 23 so definetly a minor, people have called moderators who do there job mean, saying its wrong that we “shit talk” members meanwhile we only “shit talk” members if youre being stupid and we think its a possibility youll break the rules and start shit meanwhile these people accusing toby have servers and gcs on discord made for the purpose of shitting on Toby, myself, and other members of the staff in the crp server, and a bunch of other stuff.

As you can see, the list goes on with how hypocritical these people are, using things out of context to try and get the point across when all they are doing is lying to paint Toby in a bad light, its disgusting how they accuse Toby of being a groomer when this is who happens to be accusing him. Again to the rumor Toby is grooming me, i can fully state that no he is not grooming me, he has never acted romantically in any shape or form with me, he has never acted predatory towards me or any others, I mean if I dont text him, my dms are drier than the sahara desert with that man, hes not one to text first so sometimes i go a day or two without actually speaking to him. I know the signs of being a groomer from experience and research, Toby is not grooming myself or any others and its bullshit that people are accusing him based on messages taken out of context.

Thank you for reading🖤🖤❤️❤️