#Of course it's because my golden brother is in town | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stsgluver · 3 months

Note

Can I get a uhhh...hurt/comfort Choso drabble where he snaps at the reader? Maybe because he's worried about Yuuji or something?

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐎 — kamo choso

synopsis. choso's parent's relationship is struggling and he doesn't know how to handle it.

wc. 1.4k

tags. very slight angst, happy ending, yuuji is choso's 10yo half brother, choso and yn are 18-19, both went to the same school, yn is yuuji's tutor, possible ooc choso I've never written for him before

a/n. MY FIRST CHOSO WRITING!! you never specified an au so I did a post-highschool!au-ish. I hope that's okay <33 thank you for requesting!!

2k event

“can’t you tell i’m busy?” choso uttered through gritted teeth, not even bothering to glance up at you from his sketchbook he was hunched over on his desk. you’d been trying to tell him about the sweet old couple you always saw at the cafe and hadn’t seen for weeks until today. the two of you had become invested in their wellbeing and you’d thought that had been something he would’ve wanted to hear about.

“oh, sorry.” you frowned at how unintentionally pathetic your voice sounded. despite his cold demeanour, choso was probably the, if not the, sweetest person you’d ever met. he was always doting on his younger brother and showing up at your day job unannounced to bring you something whenever you tell him you’re having a bad day.

for all intents and purposes, he was the blueprint, so for him to lash out at you for no explicit reason was the total polar opposite to his usual personality.

“sorry?” choso mocked, leaning his head back to push his hands through his hair which was still damp from showering. still, he seemed more preoccupied with the ceiling than his concerned girlfriend who sat cross-legged on his bed, “geto’s going to be pissed that i’m behind on these designs and you constantly talking in my ear is not helping.”

after graduating, choso had initially taken on an admin role at a small tattoo parlour in town. a couple of months into the role, the owner, geto, had offered him a proper apprenticeship. you’d met geto on a handful of occasions and, from how choso had previously described him, he didn’t seem like the type to be annoyed over a few incomplete designs. especially not considering the additional hours and effort choso always puts into that place.

“you invited me over choso,” you pointed out. it was a sunday and, while you usually have work in the evenings, you’d been given the day off due to staff sickness. your boyfriend’s first message had been to excitedly offer for you to come over and stay the night at his which of course you said yes to.

somewhere between sending you that message and you making the fifteen minute drive to his house, he had a drastic change of heart.

choso sighed, picking up a different pencil to continue his sketch. “well, now i’m uninviting you.”

the bluntness in his tone had you blinking back tears. it was the first time he’d ever been so intentionally dismissive towards you. you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response or an argument, if that was what he was after, and picked up your coat and left his room.

you hadn’t needed to bring over any clothes or essentials since you’d come over so often his room had designated areas for your spare bits. as upset as he had made you, you weren’t about to scare him with a breakup threat because he was having a bad day and lashing out at you.

“yn!” yuuji’s bright voice spooked you from your thoughts as you made your way down the stairs and you had to quickly wipe away any tears so as to not worry your boyfriend’s ten year old brother. choso’s golden personality was hidden by dark hair and an introverted front whereas yuuji’s was clear from his pink hair to his loud voice. “are you leaving already? you haven’t even tried my pancakes yet!”

one of yuuji’s incentives to attend the lessons that he didn’t like (ie. anything that wasn’t sport) was for him and choso to make homemade pancakes together. it was a weekly thing that you usually missed because of work and yuuji had been jumping up and down when he had found out you’d be there this evening.

your heart broke a little more at the fact you’d now be upsetting him.

“sorry yuuji,” his little face dropped slightly, bounce in his step gone as he clasped his hands together. you gently rubbed his shoulder, “i’ll be here for friday?”

yuuji scrunched up his nose. “that’s so long away!” it was also the day he’d be sat at the kitchen island with you for several hours doing catch up on his classes.

yuuji was the reason why you and choso had reconnected after graduating school – because when you agreed to tutor a student how could you have known that itadori yuuji was kamo choso’s little brother? you’d never been close in school so you hadn’t even known he had any relatives.

“i’ll bring you a treat,” you promised, making your way out of the house after saying a quick goodbye to his parents.

the pouring down rain coupled with the ever flowing tears that stained your cheeks meant you had to stop your car several times on the way home just to ensure you wouldn’t crash. each and every time you checked your phone to see if he’d sent you a message, apologising and asking you to come back (which you would have in a heartbeat). there never was.

you didn’t see choso for the rest of the week – not until friday, your usual tutoring session with yuuji.

he had messaged you a couple times, asking about your day and sending you several pictures of tattoos he had done himself which you always responded to quickly. but the conversations were short and filled with unanswered questions.

most days that you didn’t sleep around his, the two of you would call until one of you fell asleep. for the last five nights both of you had made excuses for why you couldn’t call.

your relationship was still fairly new and this was the first spat that you had had. neither of you really knew how to cope with the aftermath or even the initial falling out. you missed your boyfriend, though, and you couldn’t avoid this forever.

“is yuuji here?”

you’d knocked twice before the door had been opened by choso. he looked just as tired as you felt (you’d done your best to cover it up with a bit of concealer and highlighter), and his shoulder length hair was messily framing his face. the hoodie he wore was a matching one that you had still hung up in your wardrobe at home.

“no,” choso shook his head, “he’ll be back from fushiguro’s kids in about fifteen.”

yuuji had spoken about megumi a lot to you – his best friend in the whole world, he’d described him as. he told you he’d bring him around one day to meet you.

“okay,” you said slowly and there was an awkward silence that settled between the two of you. on a friday night whilst you were with yuuji, their parents went out for their weekly date night, so right now it was just choso in his house and you at the doorstep. you take a step back, “i can just wait in my car till–”

“i think my parents are splitting up,” choso said quickly – almost too quickly for you to understand – and his eyes dropped down to the ground below, avoiding your worried gaze. “friday date nights are now for marriage counselling,” he continued when you didn’t say anything, still in shock from the confession, “jin… he’s a good guy, but my mum is stressed with work and–”

“and she’s taking it out on the people closest to her.”

choso picked his head up and there was an unspoken understanding that that was what had happened on sunday. he looked guilty as he nodded.

choso and yuuji were half brothers – choso’s dad had up and left when he was only a couple of years old and his mum had had to single-handedly rebuild their life. he didn’t want yuuji to have to experience any of the hardships he did in his broken family.

“i’m sorry for hurting you. i don’t want to lose you too,” your boyfriend apologised and you made the first step on closing the gap to wrap your arms around his waist. he smelt like home, you realised, nestling your face into his hoodie, and you didn’t want to go five whole days without him again.

you lifted your head up to press one kiss to the corner of his lips, “we’ll get through this together, no matter what happens.”

#𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 #choso #kamo choso #choso x reader #choso x you #chaos x yn #choso drabbles #choso fic #choso angst #choso fluff #choso comfort

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javier-pena · 4 months

Text

in plain sight, chapter i

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader | Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Word Count: 6.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’re back home in Austin for the summer and you start dating Tommy Miller, a boy you know from high school, a boy you had a crush on when you were a teenager. All you’re looking for is an uncomplicated summer fling, just some fun, until you have to go back to college in the fall. What you didn’t know is that Tommy has an older brother. And that older brother can’t keep his eyes off you right from the start …

Notes: The story of how I came up with the idea for this fic is actually very silly, so I'll spare you the details, but I will say it had something to do with a certain movie from 1978. Anyway, I'm so so excited to finally be able to share the first chapter of this!! I can't remember the last time I was this excited about a story, so that's a good sign I'll manage some semi-regular updates. I want to thank Angela @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for answering some of my questions about Austin, and, of course, Dani @alexturner who said it'll be good for me to write a story like that 🤭

[Masterlist] [Chapter 2]

***

“Back for the summer, eh?” was the first thing Tommy said to you after the both of you hadn’t spoken in seven years.

You were standing in line at the ice cream truck, holding your niece’s hand who was jumping up and down, giddy with excitement. Tommy was driving past in his red pick-up truck, a car you’d seen around the neighborhood, unaware it was his. Hell, there wasn’t a lot of awareness where it came to Tommy Miller in the first place. You almost didn’t recognize him that early June day leaning out of the window of his truck, elbow propped up against the door, a bright smile on his face. The boy you remembered from high school, the boy you had a crush on all those years ago, looked so different. Scrawny, lanky, greasy hair, a face full of spots. Sometimes you scrolled through old photos, laughed at yourself because you had lain awake for nights, imagining how he would confess his love for you, ask you to run away with him. The man in the truck that sunny afternoon was just that … a man. His tight, stained shirt was clinging to his arms and chest, grown big with muscles over the years. His hair that used to fall into his eyes, obscuring half his face, had been cut short. His tight curls were hidden underneath a baseball cap that had the logo of a local brewery on it. His face was tan, a dark golden color; it made you do a double take, made your palm grow sweaty against your niece’s hand, embarrassed by his attention. Because surely, he had mistaken you for someone.

“Tommy?” you asked, stumbling forward a few steps when your niece yanked on your arm. “Tommy Miller?”

He laughed so hard his chest heaved. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Then he ran a hand across his sweaty brow, his dirty cheeks. “Don’t tell me I’ve aged that badly.”

Of course he asked you for your number that afternoon, and of course you gave it to him while your niece was busy with her ice cream. You scribbled it onto the palm of his hand, thinking it was a quirky, romantic gesture. It had nothing to do with the fact that you wanted to touch him. The heat of a Texan June afternoon smudged the pen so badly before he got home that evening he couldn’t decipher your number. Luckily, he knew where you lived and came by the next day with a bouquet of flowers to ask you out on a date – officially.

That date went well – more than well. He took you to the movies, to a steakhouse, to a new bar in town. He was so different from the boys you met at college; he had been to war, he had his own company that he was running with his brother, he wanted to know about you and didn’t use your time together to talk about himself and his grand plans for his professional future. You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time, hadn’t enjoyed a guy’s company that much in … well, if you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t remember ever having had that much fun with anyone. You didn’t want the night to end, and when Tommy dropped you off back home afterwards, he kissed you in his truck, then said, “Tomorrow’s my day off. Let me take you somewhere.”

You had skipped up the stairs to your parents’ porch while his truck had idled at the side of the road until you were safely inside.

What followed the next day left you hungry for more. Tommy took you hiking, then he took you to a small ranch outside Austin because you had mentioned you’d never been on a horse before, but would like to try. You stayed there until the sun had sunk beneath the horizon and a bonfire was blazing next to the barn. You drank beers and watched the stars come out. Then someone pulled out a guitar and Tommy asked you to dance. That night, you got home well past midnight, feeling like you’d been somewhere very far away.

You didn’t see Tommy for a week after that. He was busy at work. You were busy telling your friends from college about him. “Just a bit of fun for the summer,” you said. They either cheered you on, asking for the saucy details, or reacted with, “That’s so typical. Anywhere you go, men fall for you.” You didn’t let that bother you because it wasn’t true. Besides, if anyone was turning heads it was Tommy.

The next Friday, he picked you up later than usual and a broad grin spread across your face when you saw him. He had decided to grow a mustache after you’d admitted to him that you used to have a crush on this handsome teacher in college who happened to have a mustache. Tommy handled your laughter well, said, “Get in the truck, college girl,” and sped off toward an unknown destination. You felt excitement wash over you whenever you glanced over at him. Because you hadn’t been idle that week either. You were wearing a matching set of underwear, a deep red color, delicate, hiding only what was necessary. Because Tommy had admitted to you that he had a thing for women wearing nothing but high heels and lingerie. You hoped just one of those would do the trick too.

That night he took you to a small concert, just a guy with his guitar and a cream-colored cowboy hat up on a brightly lit stage. He sang about the open plains, proposing to his wife, about how women don’t want a man in a suit, they all want a cowboy. And he had a point, you thought, after Tommy dragged you off into a dark corner during a brief break and kissed you until you could hardly breathe. None of the boys at college had ever kissed you like that. For the rest of the night, Tommy was hovering by your side, finding excuses to touch you. And when the concert was over, he led you back to his truck, opened the door for you and said, “Listen, my brother is out of town this weekend. Would you like to come back to my place?”

You didn’t even make it to the bedroom. You made it to the couch in the living room where you sat pretending to be interested in polite conversation while your heart hammered against your ribcage and Tommy kept shifting, trying to hide a growing bulge in his pants. Your friends had warned you, “Don’t sleep with him before the 4th of July. The summer is still so long and he’ll lose interest.” Yeah, there was no way you’d be waiting for almost another month for this.

Tommy made the first move but only because you waited for him to make it. His hand was high up on your thigh when he leaned over you to kiss your neck, and you quickly pushed him back against the couch, straddling him, taking off your shirt. His appreciative gaze told you you had gotten it right. That he later took your panties off with his teeth was just the cherry on top.

He made you come four times that night, twice on the couch (first with his tongue, then with his cock buried deep inside of you), one time in his bed (you rode him until he pushed you off and took you from behind), and one time very softly (with his finger, just before you fell asleep). It was obvious the next morning – he wouldn’t lose interest in you and you would have the best summer of your life.

*******

A week later, you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you hear the doorbell ring. This is only your third weekend going out with Tommy, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t recognized the sound of his pick-up pulling up in front of your house. The memories from last weekend are still fresh on your mind and it makes you giddy with excitement to wonder about what he might have planned for tonight.

When you come downstairs, Tommy is sitting on the living room floor, cross-legged, while your niece is introducing him to all her toy horses. Your sister is leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, shooting you a knowing look. You ignore her. Because no matter how much fun you’re having, you’re lightyears away from thinking about Tommy as anything more than a summer fling.

“Ready?” you ask, and when he looks up at you there’s that hunger in his gaze. Self-consciously, you tug at the hem of your very short dress.

“You’re really going out in that?” your sister asks you, and you can hear the thinly veiled jealousy in her voice.

Tommy gets up, slings his arm around your waist, and places a soft kiss on your cheek. “I know I’m supposed to call you beautiful,” he mumbles into your hair, “but you look so fuckin’ hot, darlin’.”

Your face heats up at hearing that pet name. To hide how flustered you are, you tousle your niece’s hair and say, “Don’t wait up for me,” to your sister without looking at her.

The smell of Tommy’s truck engulfs you when you climb inside, and you relax against the seat. It’s funny, really, how a scent you were unfamiliar with just two weeks ago can make you feel so much at ease now. In the driver’s seat, Tommy rolls down the window and lights a cigarette before he looks back toward your house.

“Your sister, is she divorced?” he asks, fidgeting with the lighter.

“Why? You interested?” you tease.

He pulls a face. “She needs to loosen up. Maybe a good fuck would help with that.”

You playfully slap his arm. “You’re impossible,” you laugh. “My brother-in-law takes good care of her.”

He shoots you a doubtful glance, then starts the truck.

The suburbs of Austin are quiet this evening. People are staying inside to escape the lingering heat of the day or they are already in town. You hardly see anyone, hardly pass any other cars as Tommy drives slowly, an old country song playing on the radio.

“You were on my mind all week,” he finally admits, pretending to keep his eyes on the road, but you notice how he glances at you.

You touch your neck, surprised by how hot your skin feels. “Nothing bad I hope.”

He chuckles. “Depends on your definition of bad.”

You briefly close your eyes and let your memory take you back to last Friday, to the image of him kneeling before you while he spread you open on the couch, tongue buried deep inside of you.

“Well.” You clear your throat. “I’m not usually like …” You trail off, suddenly worried you gave him the wrong impression, your head buzzing with your friends’ advice on how to keep him interested in you.

“You don’t usually sleep with a guy after the third date?” Tommy inquires.

“I don’t usually come more than twice in one night.” You whisper the offensive word.

“That’s hardly your fault,” Tommy replies with a shrug. “Those college boys are dull.”

“Who says I’m sleeping with college boys?” you ask.

He glances at you, the words, “oh come on,” written all over his face. “You don’t seem like the type of girl who would go after their dads.”

That comment sparks something in you. “Who says I’m not going after their moms?”

He laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Now that’s a sight I’d love to see.”

“Do you think those college boys taught me all those things we did last week?”

Tommy clears his throat. “I think there’s a couple of things I’d like to teach you. Just as long as you promise not to use them on any college boys.”

A brief silence settles over you. Then, “Who taught you how to do all that, by the way?” you ask.

“All what?” Tommy teases.

“You know …” You shrug, but shift excitedly when he puts his warm hand on your naked thigh. His fingers are rough from his daily work, but his touch his so gentle that something melts inside of you.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

You sigh and glance up at the roof of the cabin. “Now don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re … what we did last week was the best sex of my life.”

Tommy squeezes your thigh. “There’s a wrong way to take this?”

“Don’t let it go to your head is what I’m saying.”

“It’s too late for that.” He pulls a grimace, brings the car to a stop in front of a red light. “Tell me more.”

“I’m not telling you anything until you tell me where you learned all that.”

“What? Eating pussy?”

“Oh my God.” Your face heats up because of him for the second time that evening. “Yes, that, but also … I’ve never been with a man who was so concerned about my … my pleasure.”

“I was in the Army,” Tommy answers.

“And they teach you that there?” You can’t quite tell if he’s being serious.

“If you’re on leave in some Godforsaken place, and there’s fifty other strappin’ young men you’ll learn fast enough how to please women. Or you’ll spend every night alone.”

You nod slowly. “Where are we going?”

“Oh no, missy, you’re not changing the subject.” Tommy’s hand climbs higher on your thigh; he’s almost touching the hem of your dress now.

You shrug. “You’re right; those college boys are boring. You’re … you know what you’re doing.”

“You’re just sayin’ that because you have no one to compare me to.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “No, I’m saying that because it’s the truth.”

Tommy glances at you again. “I don’t like that laughter.”

“Jealous?”

“A bit, yeah,” he admits.

“Don’t be,” you tell him, your voice suddenly soft. “There’s no reason to.”

Tommy pulls off the main road then and onto a dark parking lot. You’re about to make a teasing remark when he turns the car and suddenly the glistening Austin skyline is sitting right there in front of you, like a mirage in the desert.

“Wow,” you breathe and sit up straight.

“Did I promise too much?” Tommy wants to know.

“You didn’t promise me anything,” you remind him.

Your gaze wanders to take in everything, the dark trees shielding you from the road, the city that sits right there as if it wants to tempt you to reach out and touch it, the nearby bridge where a car passes in your direction.

“Wait a minute,” you say slowly. “I know exactly where we are.”

“And where’s that?” Tommy asks, a barely concealed smile on his face.

“I’ve heard stories about you and this place.”

“What kind of stories?” Tommy grabs a can of beer from a cooler on the backseat and opens it with a sharp hiss. “Only good ones, I should hope.” He hands you the can and you take it, but pull a grimace at him at the same time.

“What?” he asks.

“You used to take girls here when we were in high school,” you answer after taking a sip from the beer. “Lots of girls.”

“A handful, at most,�� Tommy corrects you.

“More like a handful at the same time,” you mumble.

Now it is Tommy’s turn to ask, “Jealous?”

You take another sip before you answer. “I was back then. I had the biggest crush on you.”

“I’m flattered.” It sounds as if he’s mocking you but the flush on his cheeks tells a different tale.

“You never noticed me, of course,” you go on.

“You were a bit young,” Tommy points out.

“And now I’m not?”

“Now you’re a well-traveled woman who’s back in her little town for summer.” You open your mouth but he goes on. “Now you can tell when a man is takin’ you for a ride and when he’s serious about you. Do you still have a crush on me then?”

You shrug. “A different kind, maybe. I definitely don’t fantasize about you confessing your love for me anymore. Or about us running away together.”

“Why not?” Tommy takes a big swig from the can. “I think you should start doin’ that again.”

“Or I could fantasize about other things, less innocent things.”

Tommy shifts and clears his throat. You can’t help but smile at how little it takes to shift the mood.

“Like what?” he asks, and the beer can cracks in his grip.

“Like how you held me down last week,” you answer, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Or how softly you touched me afterwards.”

“You don’t have to fantasize about those things. Give me somethin’ new.” The slightly commanding edge to his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“Well … when we were in high school, I used to wonder what it would be like to be taken here by you. What did you do with the girls you drove out here?”

In the distance, you can hear the sound of another car gliding across the bridge.

“Can’t you guess?”

“I was very innocent back then,” you remind him. “My thoughts never went past a small kiss on the lips.”

Tommy licks his. “Yeah, but now? What would you like me to do with a woman I take here?”

The tension has become unbearable and you giggle, searching to relieve it. It doesn’t work. Tommy’s hungry gaze wanders down to where your dress has ridden up your thighs and you inhale sharply.

“I still think a kiss would be nice,” you answer finally, your voice no longer steady at all. “But it doesn’t have to be all that innocent.”

Tommy puts one of his warm hands on your naked thigh, then leans in closer until he can hear your breath hitch. “Where would you like that kiss, darlin’?”

“How about you figure that out for yourself?” you tease him.

His lips are firm against yours, the pressure insistent until you open up for him. He tastes like the beer he just downed, the cigarette he just smoked. He also tastes like Tommy, and you relish how familiar you are with it after just two weeks. You sigh into the kiss, feeling all the tension leave your body. His teasing remarks and slight bravado are backed up by his skills, and you shudder remembering what else he can do with that tongue. You bite his lip to draw it out of him, but he only huffs and pulls back.

“Careful, darlin’,” he warns, his voice deeper now.

“What? Too wild for you?” you ask with a small laugh.

“Don’t get into somethin’ you can’t handle.” The tips of his fingers are under the hem of your dress now and you squirm, but he digs his nails into the soft skin. “See? I haven’t even touched you yet and it’s already too much for you.”

You raise your chin. “It’s not.”

“Have you ever fucked someone in a car?” Tommy asks, his hungry gaze fixed onto your face.

“No,” you reply slowly.

It’s not as if you didn’t know this was where the evening was going. It’s not as if you didn’t want it to go there. But now you’re here, you’re very aware of how exposed you are, even inside Tommy’s truck, and how many laws you would be breaking if you took this any further.

“Relax,” Tommy chuckles. His dark eyes are glistening in the lights of Austin. “You said it yourself: This isn’t my first time doin’ this. I’ve never been caught.”

“Oh, so I’m just another one of your conquests.”

“You can be anythin’ you want to be.” With that, he pushes his hand between your legs and places the tips of two of his fingers straight against your clit.

It’s as if your legs follow their own will when they spread open to give Tommy more room. He doesn’t need it, moving his fingers in a small circle, not breaking eye contact once. When he increases the pressure, one of your hands flies up to grab his shoulder, the other finds purchase against your seat.

“You like that, huh?” Tommy teases.

You nod, pushing your hips forward into his touch.

“Is it worth the risk?” His touch is lighter again, his fingers move slower.

Now it’s your turn to warn him with a, “Careful, Tommy.”

“Why?” His touch is feather-light now.

You move your hand that’s on his shoulder up to his jaw, cupping it. “You don’t want to turn me into a bad girl, do you?” You feel silly when you say it out loud like this, but his eyes light up.

“As I said, you can be anythin’ you want.” The tremor in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“How about we start by turning me into someone who gets fucked in a car?”

Suddenly, he turns his head, biting into the heel of your palm, making you squeal. When your laughter dies down, you notice how his fingers are moving faster again, accompanied by a wet sound.

“God,” Tommy groans. “Look at you. I’ve barely touched you.”

Something tells you that you should be embarrassed by how little it took for him to turn you on, but then he increases the pressure on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut with a moan.

“I can see you overthinkin’ this,” Tommy whispers, so close you can feel his warm breath on your neck and ear. “Don’t. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

“Tommy …,” you groan, and you don’t quite know why. Do you want him to go faster? Slower? Do you want him to make you come?”

He doesn’t allow you a single second to find answers to those questions. “I love it when you say my name like that.”

You roll your hips into his touch, and his other hand grabs your thigh with a firm grasp. “Don’t. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

You open your eyes to find his gaze fixed on your face, eagerly licking his lips. In that moment, you don’t remember ever wanting anyone as much as you want him. Out of curiosity, you try to roll your hips again, and he lands a soft slap against your pussy in retribution, one that makes you groan with pleasure.

“Do that again,” you pant.

He hesitates for the briefest of moments, then does as you ask, a little harder this time. You fold, your upper body bending toward your knees, your head fuzzy with pleasure.

“I need you … inside of … of me, Tommy, please,” you stammer. You feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. He only rolls your clit between his fingers, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Please, Tommy, please.”

“Shhh,” he makes, and kisses your temple. “Later, darlin’. I want to see you come in your panties first.”

You grab his shoulder, feeling yourself tumble toward the edge. His fingers are moving fast enough to drive you insane with pleasure but it’s not quite enough to get you there. And he must know that, judging by the smug look on his face.

“Please,” you whimper.

“What do you need?” he asks, his voice thick with arousal.

You risk a glance down between his legs, the obvious bulge in his jeans making you clench again. Then you press your hand against his moving between your legs, just so the pressure becomes a bit more …

Tommy slaps your hand away. “Harder, Tommy,” he says in a voice mocking yours. “Come on, say it.”

“Harder, Tommy,” you moan immediately.

And you’re rewarded with an orgasm so intense you see stars dance in front of your eyes. Your moans make your ears ring, and when Tommy doesn’t stop, they turn into desperate whimpers. It’s only when you grab his wrist that he stops and you try to catch your breath with a shuddering sob.

“Fuck,” you groan and close your eyes.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. “Can’t believe you really just came in your panties for me.”

You laugh, your voice breaking when you can’t get enough air into your lungs.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful right after an orgasm, you know that?” Tommy goes on, and you want him to keep talking like that more than anything.

“Why?” you ask, then gasp, when he presses his fingers against your clit before removing his hand.

“You’re so perfect,” he answers without hesitation. “I guess I like seein’ you come undone.”

You straighten your dress and look at the glistening Austin skyline in front of you. “You bring out the worst in me, Tommy Miller.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s almost impossible to take the good out of the girl.”

You glance down at his bulge again, lick your lips at the thought that it’s just sitting there, waiting for you. “It’s much easier than you think,” you reply, then begin to unbuckle his belt.

His hips jerk in response. “Careful, darlin’.”

“What? Can’t handle it when the tables are turned?” you tease.

He shoots you a crooked smile. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

“Oh, I intend to.” You grip his hard cock and pull it out of his jeans, relishing how his hips jerk again. Your mouth waters when you run your thumb over the glistening tip and hear Tommy inhale sharply. Your short, tight dress makes it hard for you to climb up onto the seat while still preserving some of your dignity, but one glance at Tommy tells you he couldn’t care less. His pupils are dilated and his mouth hangs slightly open while his chest rises and falls rapidly. All that just because you’re holding his cock in your hand. You stroke across the tip again, then move your hand down toward the base and lock your lips to his, capturing a deep groan. Tommy’s eyes flutter shut and you lower your head, closing your lips around his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, one hand immediately tangling in your hair.

You shift, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it’s hard, even if the bench of the pick-up is bigger than most car seats you’re used to. Tommy doesn’t care. He pushes himself deeper into your mouth and you swallow around him, his sharp taste overwhelming. It’s hot in the truck, and you can smell his sweat, smell your own arousal on his hand resting on his thigh. You pull off him until only his tip is still between your lips, then move down again, while he pushes, almost impatiently. Your neck strains uncomfortably, but you want to make this work. For him.

“Stop,” he says after his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag. “I want to be inside of you.”

You straighten your back and smile at him. Your lips feel swollen. “You are, Tommy.”

With his thumb, he swipes away saliva and pre-cum from your bottom lip. “Not like that.”

The way he looks at you, heated, yes, but also with an unguarded softness in his eyes, makes something flutter inside your chest. “What did you have in mind?” you ask.

He leans forward, his mouth so close to your ear his breath tickles your skin. The presumed forbiddenness of what he’s about to tell you makes you hold your breath. “I want you on top of me,” he whispers in your ear, voice low. “Use me however you want.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine and you nod, cheeks burning up. What have you done to deserve a man like him in your life?

You move to climb on top of him, but he stops you, his hand spread across your chest. “I think we’d be more comfortable on the backseat. Don’t you?”

You glance over the front seats at the dark space beyond and nod again. It’s also harder to spot you back there should someone decide to drive into the parking lot.

With practiced movements, Tommy tilts his seat, then climbs over it, briefly struggling with his loose jeans. You grin and follow him, body humming with pleasant anticipation. Tommy pulls his shirt over his head and kicks off his shoes and jeans, but when you start to take off your dress, he stops you.

“No. Just your panties.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

You can’t really tell in the dim light but he looks flushed when he searches his trouser pockets for a condom.

When you finally lower yourself onto him, you can feel his chest vibrate with a deep groan under your palms. He jerks and shifts trying to adjust himself, but you hold him down and roll your hips from side to side until he nods. For a while, you both just sit there and look at each other, his hands stroking your sides, your fingers playing with the coarse hairs on his chest. To you, this is the definition of paradise.

You roll your hips in small, slow circles at first, so imperceptible it takes him a while to notice. But when he does, he jerks his hips upwards, urging you to go faster, so you press your knees into his sides.

“No,” you tell him, and when he opens his mouth to protest, you put a raised finger against his lips. “Let me take care of you.” For a second, you think he’ll reject you; but then he nods. “Good,” you say, brushing your thumb across his bottom lip before pulling your hand back. His chest and neck are a deep red now.

It’s not like you’re planning on torturing him forever. You roll your hips a little faster, and with every deliciously lewd sound he makes for you, a little faster still. Soon, your resolve crumbles, and you allow him to stroke your naked thighs, to squeeze your clothed breasts, even to play with your clit. The humid air in the truck clings to your skin, and to Tommy’s, and you’re transfixed by a bead of sweat making its way down his cheek. You capture it with a kiss, then throw back your head with a moan when he rolls your clit under his thumb just so.

That’s when you notice it – the other truck parked next to yours. Was it already there when Tommy pulled into the parking lot? Did it pull up afterwards and you just didn’t notice because you were occupied with other things at the time? Whatever the answer might be, it’s not important right now, not when you notice the other truck isn’t empty.

A man is staring at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. He looks older than Tommy, but not by much, maybe a few years. His face is framed by dark hair and a dark beard, very prominent on his upper lip, less so on his cheeks and chin. His eyes are dark too, hidden in the shadows of the driver’s cabin, but you can feel them on you, watching every twitch of your hips with intent. And he definitely isn’t alone.

You can’t see the person he’s with; she’s kneeling in front of him, hands and knees on the backseat, and he’s holding down her head with his outstretched arm. All you can see is that she has dark auburn hair that the man uses to hold her in place. The back of your own scalp prickles at that sight and you wish someone would hold onto you like that.

You should stop and tell Tommy about the stranger in the car next to yours who is fucking a woman you can’t see while watching you fuck a man he can’t see. Or you should move to the other side of the car where he won’t be able to see you. The least you should do is look away. But you don’t do any of these things. Later, when you’re alone, you’ll ask yourself why, but there is no answer other than not wanting to break the connection you feel to that stranger at this very moment. You’ll think it a weak excuse then, but right here, in Tommy’s truck, it feels like the most sensual experience of your life. You’re both fucking other people and yet it feels like you’re fucking each other.

Beneath you, Tommy groans deeply, and he twitches inside of you. “Keep goin’, darlin’,” he mumbles.

You don’t know if Tommy is watching you or if his eyes are closed, you don’t know if his mouth hangs open, you couldn’t name the shade of red coating his neck. Instead, you watch as the stranger bites his lip, watch as his eyes flutter shut after a particularly deep thrust, watch how he presses the woman’s head down further. You can almost hear his pants and growls, and in turn your breath comes in short bursts. Why doesn’t he look away? And why don’t you?

His thrusts come faster now, and it’s not as if you’re consciously changing your pace too, but suddenly you catch yourself matching the roll of your hips to his. You groan when you see the smirk on his face, and your upper body falls forward, forcing you to brace yourself against Tommy’s chest. Why did that stranger’s smirk set the base of your spine on fire and why did your small moment of weakness make his face darken with resolve?

When you look up again, he has his eyes closed, so you close yours too, and for an instant, just one brief moment, you imagine it’s him thrusting up into you. That vision is so powerful you half expect it to be him below you when you open your eyes again, but it’s Tommy, and he’s watching you.

“Feel so good,” he mumbles. “So, so good.”

A twinge of guilt gets mixed in with that already explosive cocktail of feelings brewing inside of you, and you’re not sure what to do about it. Are you crossing a line with this? You don’t know; you’ve never heard about anyone in a situation like this. All you know is that when you lift your head, the stranger’s gaze hits you like a bolt of lightning. You feel it tingle in your fingers, up and down your legs, on the tip of your nose, and at the back of your neck. But most importantly, you feel it deep in your core that clenches with desperation. He lifts his chin and rolls his shoulders, pushing his chest forward, like he’s showing off to you, and you can’t help it – you dig your nails into Tommy’s skin and he groans with pleasure.

The air in the truck is so heavy it is becoming hard to breathe. You only realize that when you would need it most desperately. Over there, in the other car, the man’s hips suddenly still and you watch as he throws back his head, as a deep, dark flush climbs up his chest and neck. You can almost feel it, how he empties himself into that woman he’s fucking, how he empties himself into you. And before you can fully grasp what is happening, you’re clenching around Tommy hard and fast, making him snap his hips up into you.

“Fuck, fuck! Fuck!” he swears, holding you in place with two hot hands on your sides.

Your orgasm is still making your entire body shake, but it also feels like it doesn’t belong to you at all. You’re praying for the stranger to look at you again, one final time, but he has disappeared. All you can see is his back from time to time, and the woman’s knees that look like they’re trembling, as he goes down on her. You can’t help the jealousy that is clawing at the inside of your stomach.

Tommy pulls you down and gives you a searing kiss. “You’re fuckin’ amazin’, you know that?” You giggle and bury your face against his neck, trying to shake off that strange feeling of desire and yearning. “I’m very sorry I doubted you,” Tommy goes on. “No college boy could’ve taught you that.”

“That good, huh?” you ask, running your hand through his curls.

“Good’s an understatement,” he mumbles.

Carefully, he lifts you off him and takes off the condom. You’re on the other side of the truck now and can barely see the top of the other one. That loss is strangely irritating.

“Take off your dress,” Tommy orders.

You look at him, at his flushed cheeks, at the drunk desire in his gaze. “Ready for round two already?” you tease.

He shakes his head. “No, but I won’t make you wait for me.”

His mouth is hot against your sensitive clit, and you roll your hips up against his tongue eagerly. Above you, the roof of the truck is cast in shadows. You stare up at the boring gray, eyes wide open, because as soon as you close them, you see the stranger, as clear as if he was still right in front of you. And you refuse to give him that kind of power over you.

***

in plain sight taglist: @shellshocklove

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x tess servopoulos #joel miller #tess servopoulos #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #in plain sight

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wangxianficrecs · 6 months

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💙 Gentian Seeds by yuyu_finale

💙 Gentian Seeds

by yuyu_finale (@yuyu-finale)

T, 9k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji's travels take him to a nondescript yet somehow painfully familiar seaside town. His reception is unusual; he is met with wistful stares and frantic whispers, and it all comes crashing down when the inn's proprietress utters a name he hasn’t heard in years. --- Or, Lan Wangji accidentally ends up in his mother’s hometown. Kay's comments: One of my favorite canon divergence stories, because it gives Lan Wangji more family! Family from his mother's side! Because of course Mama Lan must have come from somewhere and here, he stumbles into his family on a night-hunt during the time Wei Wuxian is dead and it's just so soft and such a lovely idea. Literal found family hehe. Excerpt: Lan Wangji sees the shards scatter, but hears nothing over the blood roaring in his ears. His chest is tight, too tight, his lungs have locked, and he suddenly feels so small and brittle. He is five again and classes have just ended, and he is holding brother’s hand, the two of them rushing without running to a house at the edge of the world, a secret buried beneath disjointed excuses uttered from tense lips. They were never allowed to be children in anything but this, ignorant and carefree for one day every month. Happy, for one day every month. Her eyes are golden, just like his. “Jie..jie…” Her voice is little more than an echo of wishes unspoken. She treads over the shards, slowly, and holds her breath, as though afraid Lan Wangji will run away. “Jiejie’s….?” He takes a small step back, afraid of something he doesn’t know. She stops, eyes flitting from the points of his headpiece to the tips of his shoes and back again. She is half his height, but every sweep of her gaze makes him feel like he is paper, folding in on himself over and over. “Jiejie’s….son?”

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, madam lan backstory, implied/referenced character death, thirteen years of wei wuxian's death, families of choice, found family, soft lan wangji/wei wuxian, family feels, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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dark-frosted-heart · 10 months

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Book of Memories ~ Clavis, Jin, Sariel ~ Part 3

Collection story

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

~~ Flashback continues ~~

As night falls, the town is enveloped by a lively atmosphere different from during the day.

As if to blow the fatigue from work away, people happily drank their fill and danced to music at the tavern...

Within such a town of adults, two children wandering about looked out of place.

Clavis: Jin! Look, there's some musicians over there.

Jin: Hold on, if you run too fast you'll end up crashing into people.

Clavis: ! This smell. It smells like the muffins I've had with my mother.

Jin: It definitely smells sweet like a muffine...

Clavis: I thought so! Jin, you got it.

Jin: Seriously...

Clavis dashes through the streets with the zeal befitting a child of his age.

Jin chases after him and pulls him back before he bumps into someone.

To the people passing by, the pair looked like brothers.

Jin: I'm feeling a bit hungry. Wanna get something to eat?

Clavis: I do! Ah, I'm the senior so it'll be my treat!

Jin: Nah, let me treat you. You've already done so much for me. Besides, let me be the big brother once in a while.

Clavis: ...

Jin: Hm, what's wrong?

Clavis: I was just happy to hear that Jin wanted to do something brotherly!

Jin: Ah- I just got caught up in the moment. Sit on that bench while I go get us something.

Clavis: O~kay.

Jin: I didn't think you'd actually follow me.

Clavis: Hm?

Clavis, who was munching away at his muffin, tilted his head at Jin's words.

Jin: I meant when I invited you to go out to town when you happened to pass by. Won't your mom or Sariel scold you if either found out you snuck out of the castle?

Clavis: It-It'll be fine as long as we don't get caught.

Jin: You're pretty bad.

Clavis: Am not! I didn't follow you just to enjoy the twon.

Jin: Are you keeping an eye on me as my senior in case I do something weird?

Clavis: That's not true. If I thought you weren't just simply going out, I would've done everything to stop you.

Jin: Then why'd you follow me?

Clavis: So that you can get closer to your brothers.

Jin: Other people think that we're close enough.

Clavis: Do you think so too, Jin?

Jin: Definitely...more than the beginning.

Clavis: I see...That's fine with me! Still, I'd like us to get along and know each other better.

Jin: By how much?

Clavis: Why don't you tell me some stuff. Things that make you happy, annoyed, or sad. All of it.

Jin: ...

Clavis: I came along because I thought it'd be the bets place for us to relax and get to know each other better. Because I think court's still a place that's too nerve-racking for you. A place where you can't stay calm.

His golden eyes which were usually brimming with curiosity now held some seriousness.

Jin: You've really come to accept me as your older brother.

Clavis: Of course. But I'm also your senior too. As your little brother and senior, I'm easier to talk to than anyone else. So you can tell me anything, no matter how trivial it is. I'll be happy if court becomes a comfortable place for you someday, Jin.

Jin: You've grown up to be an amazingly good kid.

Clavis: I'm a good boy! Mother told me so.

Jin: Your mother must be really proud to have a son like you.

Clavis: She told me that too! H-hey, don't mess with my hair! I'll have to tidy it up again!

Jin: Pfft. You look good even when messed up. It's no problem.

Clavis looked up at Jin in annoyance as he fixed his hair, but his eyes instantly narrowed in happiness.

Clavis: I knew getting out of the castle was the right choice.

Jin: Hm?

Clavis: I feel like I've seen a true smie. It's soft and gentle. You should show the real Jin more often, even if it's just in front of Sariel or our brothers. For that reason, I'll keep visiting you as much as I can.

Jin: The real me... If you, my little brother and senior, are going that far for me, then I guess I have no choice. I know I might be lacking as a big brother, but don't turn away from me, okay?

Clavis: I'm a boy with a big heart so I don't mind.

Jin: Thanks...

After giving his little head a gentle pat, Jin stood up from the bench.

Jin: I had good a lot of fun, but I think it's about time we head home.

A rough-looking man: Hey, there's some kids out at this hour.

Jin and Clavis: Huh...?

Sariel: You're back late, don't you think?

Jin and Clavis: ...

As if punishment for their bad behavior, the two rann into Sariel after returning from town.

Sariel: Do you have anything to say?

Jin and Clavis: Sorry.

Sariel: At least you're honest with your apology. But that doesn't mean I'll let this go.

Jin and Clavis: Understood...

Sariel: Prince Jin, what's with that scratch on your face? Prince Clavis too, you didn't have that scratch on your arm this morning.

Clavis: I...fell.

Sariel: How?

Clavis: Because I was running from a bad guy that approached us...

Sariel sighed deeply and looked at the two again.

His eyes were wavering with quiet anger.

Sariel: You two are children first, before you're royalty. You know how dangerous it is to go out at night. Even the most familiar of places change once night falls. This is even true for court. Nonchalantly thinking that you'll be fine can lead to danger.

The lecture that echoed throughout the entrance hall placed a heavy weight on their shoulders.

As Clavis' gaze lowers more and more in apology, Jin steps in front to hide him from Sariel.

He smiled as if to smooth things over.

Jin: I asked Clavis to go with me, so don't get mad at him. I'm sorry I put him in danger.

Sariel: Prince Jin, you don't regret it at all, do you?

Jin: Excuse me...?

Sariel: I'm not just concerned for Prince Clavis, but you as well. Actually, I'm glad that Prince Clavis was with you. If you went out by yourself, you would have returned with even more scratches.

Jin: Why do you think that?

Sariel: Because you have this odd sense of confidence that you can do anything yourself.

Jin: ...

Clavis: Sariel...Jin...?

There was a strained tension in the air that wasn't present before.

Clavis looked at the two before getting in between them.

Clavis: S-stop arguing!

Sariel: Thank you for helping me find my words. Prince Clavis, I'm going to have to ask you to stay quiet for a moment.

Jin: I agree with Sariel on this one.

Clavis: B-but if you don't, you'll start fighting!

Jin and Sariel: We won't.

Clavis: Liar!

Jin: Not if this guy doesn't keep pushing me.

Sariel: Unfortunately I won't be backing down.

Clavis: Sariel...?

Sariel: You've never complained, studied hard, took part in social gatherings, but then you suddenly slipped out of the castle. I'm not so uncaring toward you that I'll stop my lecture here. I worry about you as a human being, not as royalty nor as a prince.

Jin: ...

Sariel: Can you at least tell me why?

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri summary #ikepri translations

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gamerwoo · 10 months

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[Tales from the Pack] Soonyoung: Imperfect (Epilogue)

Characters: Soonyoung x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, mentions of smut but nothing explicit

Word count: 980

Summary: Soonyoung has always been desperate to find his mate, often going out into town at night to fill the void of imprinting that he craves so much. Then suddenly, you (quite literally) appear in front of him. He’d always dreamed and fantasized about what having his mate would be like, but the reality is nothing like he expected.

a/n: dialogue in bold is meant to be english and whenever someone says reader’s name it’s meant to be reader’s surname

Previous | Imperfect Masterlist | TftP Masterlist

"Love of my life, can you grab the other carton of eggs from the fridge for me?"

All the wolves loved using terms of endearment for their mates, but everyone could mostly tell who was being called to based off of the voice. Jooyeon only pretended to get confused to annoy Seungcheol, rushing along with Arinya or Suvi and claiming "you call me baby, too" when he'd pout she didn't know it wasn't him. But you found it easy to know it was Soonyoung not just from the voice, but from the too-cheesy pet names he gave you.

"Honey bun, can you come here?"

"Peach cobbler, where are you?"

"Princess of my heart, I need you!"

Another thing was Soonyoung loved to flex his English now that he was essentially fluent. You both were doing well, only not understanding or remembering a few words here and there. But Kyung and Hansol reminded you both that even they needed refreshers on some words sometimes, so you were 'basically fluent now'. Soonyoung loved to switch languages in the middle of a sentence just because he knew how to now. Sometimes it confused you but he let you take a second to process what he was saying.

When he'd called for you after he'd noticed you enter the kitchen, your brown eyes met his golden ones with a raised brow. He was standing at the stove, throwing you a warm smile over his shoulder before he went back to talking quietly with Mingyu beside him.

You had been at the market with Felix, and the younger wolf was currently babbling excitedly to Kyung about the colorful woven-string bracelets he'd spotted.

"Friendship bracelets!" he'd gasped when he saw them, running over to the booth.

You loved hanging out with Felix. As soon as you got to properly meet him and his alpha, Chan, you immediately hit it off. It gave you a similar feeling as to when you would be with Luka. It felt safe and like home. It felt like you were hanging out with your brothers again.

But you were no longer paying attention to the bracelets Felix had bought the two of you -- and one for Chan, of course. You were looking at your mate's back with a raised brow.

"Are you...making breakfast?" you asked slowly.

Soonyoung turned again to face you, "Yeah, why?"

"You're cooking?" you asked, sounding more worried now. "You're being allowed near a stove?"

You heard Joshua off to the side of the kitchen imitate your accent when you said the word 'cooking' but you only threw him a short glare before looking back at Soonyoung.

Mingyu turned to look over his shoulder, promising, "I'm supervising."

Soonyoung just pouted and loudly whined, "I'm not that bad at cooking!"

"I love you, but you absolutely are."

He seemed to have not heard anything you said after the first part, because he grinned widely and chirped, "I love you, too!"

"I'm sorry, but can you fight about it another time?" Suvi whined. "I'm hungry."

"Don't tell them that," Jeonghan quickly snapped. "They will fight about it, and nobody wants to hear it."

You immediately felt your cheeks get hot. You knew everyone in the pack did things like that and never really minded when people heard, but whenever it was brought up, you always got embarrassed. You were always a pretty quiet person when it came to that -- especially in comparison to your counterpart -- but you always forgot in the heat of the moment that at least half the people in the house could hear everything.

Something else about Soonyoung was he was...well...insatiable for lack of a better word. Not that you were against it because you liked doing anything with him and he was always great to you, but you felt like the two of you were getting teased even more often than Joshua and Arinya now.

To be fair, the guy was a hopeless romantic who had been looking for his mate for the last 50 or so years, so you couldn't blame him for being a little excited.

"Give them a break," Soomin sighed, standing up for you, "we all do it. We all hear each other. It's not just them."

Seokmin sat up straighter, turning away from where he was listening to Felix and admiring his bracelet to look toward the conversation, "I beg to differ."

As the pack began to bicker among themselves, Felix turned to look at you, wanting to ask if you wanted to go hang out outside or something and wait for breakfast. Instead, he was met with an empty space, which he found odd since he hadn't heard or sensed you leave. He whipped his head to the other side and then scanned the kitchen, wondering if you'd just moved your location.

"Where's _____?" he finally wondered.

The pack slowly died down and searched the kitchen for you, but Soonyoung burst into laughter. He weaved through bodies packed in the kitchen, effortlessly finding you still in your spot next to Felix as he put his arms around your waist perfectly like he could still see you.

It didn't matter how far out of your shell you'd come since he'd met you, your old habit of unknowingly disappearing when you were embarrassed never seemed to die.

"You'll always be my shy little baby," he giggled before placing a big, dramatic kiss to your cheek.

You faded back into view, face still hot and a shy but grumpy look on your face, "Thanks, I think..."

He placed his fingers under your chin and turned your head to look at him, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips that lasted maybe a little too long for being right in front of the entire house, plus Felix.

"Get a room," Junhui coughed.

And just like that, you were gone again, making Soonyoung laugh even louder.

»»————-　　————-««

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anothermarkedone · 6 months

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I'm too old to get adopted, right?

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: This is inspired by this post by @aprill-99 Feedback is always appreciated!

Xaden had no idea where he was, but he certainly wasn't in Navarre. It stands on the edge of a beautiful town spread out over rolling, steep hills. A dark blue river meanders through the landscape into the sea.

Xaden feels through his bond with Sgaeyl, but it's as if she isn't there. Xaden sighs, he has no weapons and no Sgaeyl. He tries his powers, which luckily work.

Wary, Xaden walks into town, hoping he can get a better idea of where he is. Around him he sees buildings made of white marble, warm sandstone and red stone.

A large mansion catches Xaden's attention. It is large, made of white marble with accents of dark wood. It was safe to say that Xaden has never seen such architecture in Navarre, or in Poromiel.

Suddenly there is a tall man standing in front of him with dark hair, golden-brown skin and- are those wings? Out of the corner of his eye, Xaden sees another man, this one pale with striking violet eyes, and before Xaden can react, he is unconscious.

Xaden wakes up with a start and sits up abruptly. He lies on a red lounger in a dark room, lit by the fireplace on his right.

Alert, Xaden scans the room and his eyes fall on a man behind a large desk. Xaden tries to move as softly as possible so that he can surprise the man and escape. But the man turns out to have really fucking good hearing, because he looks up from his papers, straight into Xaden's eyes.

“So let me see if I have it right,” the man says. "You have immense shadow power, incredible combat skills, height, tattoos, secrets, dead parents, a thirst for revenge, the weight of the world on your shoulders, a rebellion to lead, and..." he looks at his papers and tilts his head, “a dragon?”

'He probably has the same signet as Aetos,’ Xaden thinks to himself as he takes a defensive stance.

The man waves his hand dismissively, "I'm not going to hurt you." He adds with a grin, “see it for yourself.”

Xaden directs his second signet to the man and reads his true intentions in his head. The man truly has no intention of harming him. Slightly put at ease, Xaden decides to listen to the man.

"Well could I know your name first before I tell you my life story?" demands Xaden. The man smiles showing his white teeth. "Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court." Xaden has never heard of such a place, but mentally shrugs.

"Yes? I mean, there's also my girlfriend and 107 people under my protection, but-" Before Xaden can finish his sentence, Rhysand, ‘the high lord of the Night Court’, frantically flips through the pile of papers on his desk.

"This is the hyper-intelligent girlfriend with unprecedented lightning powers? The one you speak to telepathically and permanently nickname?" he looks expectantly.

Xaden decides to humor the man, "I only have one girlfriend. A bit offended that you would think otherwise."

Rhysand nods enthusiastically before scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Adopted. The rebellion thing is taken care of. Me and your aunts and uncles have this. Your new mother will need some time to add you and your mate to the family portrait in the gallery."

Xaden abruptly interrupts, "I'm sorry, my new mother?" Rhysand nods enthusiastically. "That's right, your bedroom is upstairs, the knives are in the training ring, the family dinner is every Thursday, you don't get any pocket money, but you have unlimited access to my finances and the curfew is...." Rhysand puts a finger thoughtfully on his chin, “…never.”

Rhysand stands up, "any questions?" Xaden mentally nods, ‘yeah, what the fuck?!’ Rhysand chuckles as if he heard it.

"Okay, crash course. So my name is Rhysand, I am 538 years old and the high lord of the Night Court and your new father." Xaden sputters in shock "538 years?!" "My wife and mate is Feyre, she is 21 years old and she is the high lady, we have a son Nyx, your brother." Rhysand opens his mouth, but Xaden cuts him off before he can say anything. “I'm….older than your wife?” Rhysand nods, "she'll be happy to have another son, Fae pregnancies are very difficult you know. But she'll be super excited to hear that we adopted you."

Xaden interrupts him again, "I'm still older than her." “Did I fucking stutter?” Rhysand asks with a raised eyebrow. Xaden gapes at him, "no sir." Rhysand nods happily, before paling, "don't tell your mother I swore or she'll refuse to give me soup." He ignores the disbelieving look Xaden gives him and continues introducing Xaden's ‘new family’.

Suddenly another winged man walks around the corner. “Ah, Rhys, we found them,” he says in a deep voice. Rhysand nods and gestures for Xaden to follow along. "Son, this is your Uncle Cassian, he is the general of my army, the two of you will work closely together to ensure that this rebellion of yours succeeds." 'Uncle' Cassian gives Xaden a big grin, "finally another nephew!"

“We found your friends, including my daughter-in-law,” Rhysand explains after seeing Xadens questioning look, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he says “daughter-in-law.”

When the three walk into the foyer, Xaden sees his self-made family. Garrick, Bodhi, Liam, Imogen, and Quinn. Behind his family is Violet, along with her squad, Rhiannon, Ridoc and Sawyer and her brother, Brennan.

Garrick, Liam and Bodhi immediately walk up to Xaden and after a quick hug they start asking hundreds of questions. Xaden calls the other riders over and explains what happened.

"You're adopted?" Bodhi asks incredulously. “Seriously man, he just says we can finally win the rebellion and that's what you get out of it?”

Bodhi shrugs, "It's not every day that you hear that your cousin has been adopted by a 538 year old man and a 21 year old woman who is 2 years younger than the literal man she’s adopting."

"Okay kids," Rhysand claps his hands together and looks at everyone enthusiastically, "let's make sure you win the rebellion."

After Rhysand introduces the rest of Xaden's new family, including his new mother, who doesn't even seem shocked when Rhysand tells them that Xaden is their new son, and that he is two years older than her.

He then gives everyone an explanation of his army, what species they are and what their signets, or powers, are, the riders took the Fae to the hidden cave where Bodhi said they left their dragons.

The moment the group walks into the cave, Cassian gives a loud scream. Xaden looks over and sees that Cassian is hanging on to a very irritated Azriel like a koala with a scared look.

“What the fuck is that,” he points. Xaden looks over and sees that he is pointing at Sgaeyl. "That's Sgaeyl."

Cassian looks at him in disbelief, "I thought Sgaeyl was your cat!" he exclaims. Sgaeyl lets out an indignant huff and Cassian lets out another yelp.

Xaden ignores his so-called fearless uncle and focuses on Sgaeyl, prodding along their bond, but he comes up with nothing.

“My bond with her is muted,” he states. The other riders nod, theirs too.

"Violet and I can see if we can make a medicine," Brennan suggests. Violet nods in agreement. After the riders make their dragons promise to stay hidden in the cave and behave, they especially had trouble with Aotrom, who is apparently a dragon version of his rider and Andarna, the group walks back to the mansion in town. Cassian continues to look behind him uneasily, checking to see if the dragons are coming to attack him.

Violet walks up next to Xaden and hooks her arm through his, "so, adopted huh, I never expected my future mother-in-law and I to be the same age." Xaden grins, "mother-in-law?" Violet rolls her eyes and punches him in the arm.

“Shut up, you're the one in a ridiculously hilarious situation.”

The mansion turns out to have a lab slash medical bay. Violet and Brennan immediately start working on a medicine, Brennan mumbling all kinds of things under his breath, especially confusing curses.

Violet continues to throw grinning looks his way and she and the other riders burst into unashamed laughter as Rhysand deposits a winged baby in his arms and states that the baby is his new brother and that they should get acquainted.

Once Brennan and Violet perfect the medicine, they hand it out in cups.

“Well, bottoms up,” Garrick says, before putting the cup to his mouth.

Xaden follows suit and immediately feels the bond with Sgaeyl opening. "That was interesting," Sgaeyl says disinterestedly, a complete contrast to what she just said. Xaden rolls his eyes.

"The screaming human dragon from before is back," she says. Xaden raises his eyebrow. "He brought food, he's afraid we'll eat him."

Xaden wonders why that was worth sharing as Sgaeyl adds, "he completely freaked out when suddenly some kind of black mist with eyes and sharp teeth and claws appeared."

“He screamed like a little baby!” adds Andarna enthusiastically, "the mist's name is Byraxis, he's super funny!"

“He was indeed amusing,” Sgaeyl states, “in just a few minutes he humored me more than you have done in three years.”

Violet has clearly been listening as Xaden hears her laughter in his head. She stops abruptly when she hears Tairn's angry, jealous growl.

Andarna either doesn't realize what her adoptive parents are doing, or she just ignores it as she gleefully tells Xaden and Violet that Byraxis told her the story of when Cassian came to the bottom level of the library and how he literally wet his pants when he saw Byraxis.

Xaden sighs, he would do anything for a nap before fighting the rebellion with the help of a few extremely powerful centuries old Fae, three not so old Fae and an army of winged warriors.

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” he asks Violet. She snorts in response, “as if I’d let you do this on your own. Besides, this is way too hilarious, I haven’t laughed this much in years.” Suddenly Liam appears next to Xaden, watching them interact. “Will you fight with me?” Xaden asks his brother.

“It would be my honor,” he answers without hesitation.

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ithinkicouldloveher · 8 months

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watching hocus pocus because tis the effing season and of course my brain needs to steddify it. SO;

appalachian newcomer eddie munson moves to salem with his younger sister el, who’s obsessed with the town’s whole vibe and wishes that her older brother— now a pessimist because he misses his friends— would be a believer again. would be playful again.

thing is eddie used to love the occult; he would regale el with stories and legends, myths and tales that they’d delight in together. but eddie lost his spark after the move; that is until he sees local rich boy steve harrington dressed in a beautiful golden gown at the harrington’s annual halloween ball, practically begging to be whisked away for a night of fun.

so they go to the old sanderson sisters’ home and well, you know how it unfolds— eddie munson, a virgin, lights the candle, and so it goes, ending with the two boys falling in love and eddie regaining his passion for the paranormal. much to el’s delight. ❤️

#steddie #steddie au

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slashthrashandcrash · 16 days

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My tire blew out today. The towman, for whatever reason, kept getting my location wrong and the road rangers were my knights in shining honor when they stumbled upon my car on patrol. Then, the tow arrived and was driving after me after they put in the spare tire, calling out that his ride was still free. Now, if this was late at night and the highway was suspiciously empty, which slashers / killers do you think would be after me and how could I fight them off? The tow guy is, of course, no help

This sounds so funny as a time sensitive question like "I'm not saying I am stranded on a desolate road with no help for miles but if I were how could I possibly fend of a serial killer that's banging on my car window? Please respond, asking for a friend."

Danny/Ghostface would certainly be an option if he was already on the move between towns or states, just a nice young man wanting to help get you somewhere safe and accidentally making a few wrong turns...then next thing you know, you're set loose to run free through the woods while he tails you, knife in hand. Your best option is to hope you find the main road before he finds you, but even then you'd have to pray there's even another motorist driving at this hour who'd be willing to stop at your distress. Just because you were stupid enough to get in a car with a stranger doesn't mean they are lmao.

The Sinclair brothers are a classic, of course -- that's kind of their whole schtick is helping out poor stranded motorists, offering to fix up their car while they come on into town for a spell, maybe check out the local wax museum to kill some time. Gotta be honest, your odds probably aren't that great since it's a 3v1...you might just have to grab a tire iron and start swinging if you want a fighting chance.

Michael can drive but he's a fucking menace on the road, he'll be ramming into you and trying to slam you off into a ditch or the median. You need to either outpace him or hopefully lose him with a few sharp turns, otherwise you'll be battered and trapped when he gets a tire to blow out or your transmission to die. Being wounded in a metal cage is the last place you wanna be when he comes stalking over to your wreckage. Although, he might more so be targeting the tow driver behind you, they usually wear those navy coveralls...

And there's a few more typical slashers who have a similar con to the Sinclairs; the Firefly family, the Sawyer family, whatever the cannibal inbred family's name was in The Hills Have Eyes -- these cases? 100% fucked. If you don't floor it and get the hell out of dodge the first second you spot any of 'em on the side of the road, you've practically sealed your fate. And it won't be pretty, or sexy, or fun. For you, anyways.

For a bit of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, Tiffany Valentine. For no reason other than you're practically alone on the quiet roads and she's bored. Just a quick little fender bender and then her nail file across your throat. Frankly, you should be honored to be killed by her, just let it happen, say thank you with your gurgling dying breath. Throwback to Urban Legend, but also Brenda. Who doesn't love a good story about flashing highbeams in the rearview mirror? You're golden if you remember how the legend goes and how the girl survives (even if the killer isn't the one in your backseat), or better yet, just don't flash your lights when you see her driving in the dark in the first place.

Purely DBD killers though, I'd really only pick out Legion, namely because they would have plenty of reasons to target you. They want your car, your money if you have it, and hell, they'll go ahead and take your life while they conveniently have it. The bad news is it's 4v1, the good news is they're all stupid teenagers. You have a 50/50 chance of being able to either outsmart them or just fend them off long enough to escape, but don't be surprised to find 4 different blades in your gut because you refuse to cooperate with their robbery.

#ask #anon

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apphiarothowrites · 2 months

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A second sneak peek

this whole fuckin' fic man, it's kicking my ass so hard. The schedule is defo slipping and I can't even get mad about it because of how hard this whole thing is kicking me.

anyway, here have a sneak peek at the one part of chapter 3 that I'm actually satisfied with

He doesn’t even have to dodge. Sand and strings flying around him, eventually descending to the base of the execution stand, and he doesn’t have to dodge a single move. It wasn’t about him. It was never about him.

None of this was, truly, about him. No one is listening to him-not Pops nor Marco, not Garp, not Luffy. He wonders, as the despondence and isolation of a fight that ignores his existence begins to really settle into his rib cage, if he’s worth listening to. If he was ever worth listening to.

If he was ever worth anything at all.

There’s nothing you can do. A voice echoes at him, the context missing but the tone warm.

He lifts his head, straining and trying to remember who could have said something so horrible but so happily. The voice is familiar but so distant-everything in his head scrambled as despair eats his hollow chest. The fight, the weakness from the seastone, being cut off from his element-cut off from himself… He can’t fight it, and it’s getting harder and harder to keep trying to fight it.

There’s nothing you can be. It echoes again, contextless and comfortable.

Gods above and below, who could have said that?? What the hell could they have meant? No, he knows what they meant. He could even take a fair guess at why they would have said it. He is nothing-worse than nothing he is cursed. Born to die, born to destroy the lives of others as he dies. He’s worse than nothing-

There’s nothing that you can say- It echoes forward, a faceless memory that makes his heart pound for reasons beyond his understanding. It’s reassuring, somehow, like a valve beginning to turn and release pressure held back. But for what remains of the life of him he can’t remember why that is nor who said it.

Tears build up, liquid fire burning his eyelids and dripping. He can’t figure any of this shit out-just like always, the answers just out of reach and awaiting a more experienced hand to guide him towards them-

That I won’t forgive. “I’m coming Ace!”

Marco.

Of course it’s Marco.

A blue flash rises from below the wall, brilliant and golden and hungry for success-

Garp’s fist, crashing down and sending that beautiful bird to the ground. He can’t see where Marco’s landed, but he can feel the man’s gaze upon him. Something flickers to life in his chest. A warmth in the cold and hopelessness.

Something is trying to build, to grow, to spur action and Ace-

Ace feels…so strange…

He almost feels-

“I…I want…”

The words come almost unbidden.

There’s nothing you can do, nothing you can be, nothing that you can say–

He realizes he lied before. For a moment, he feels the echo of Luffy’s laughter pressed to his back where his little brother has been carried before. For a moment he feels Marco’s arms and wings and strange wailing birdsong inside his chest where he’s buried him before. For a moment the ground shakes under him as Pops tosses his head back to laugh. For a bare brief moment, he feels another hand in his as he goes running and laughing from an irate town guard and Sabo’s laughing with him.

He realizes that he’s lied before-to the world and to himself.

That I won’t forgive.

He lied to Marco. He lied to Pops. He lied to Luffy and Sabo and and the world and most importantly he lied to himself. He’s been lying to himself, for almost his entire existence. And Marco-Marco was the first to forgive him for it.

His heart feels like it’s bursting in his chest, the truth laid bare before his mind’s eye. He feels so strange, so–

“I want to live!”

Free.

#AR talks #AR writes #hbtb stuff and notes

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try02line · 7 months

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The Owl House: Charis!AU

Context: the Wittebane brothers get tragically separated in their youth. One is thrown abruptly in the future, while the other remains stuck in the past, how will this change their story?

I am very happy to officially welcome you in my own personal AU of the show TOH, which I am creating in collaboration with @magpieddd (literally, none of this would have been possible without this amazing person-).

I will not spoil too much in this post, as I plan to gradually release the information thru blogs and building a small wiki as well so everything is much more organized! Just know that if you enjoy TOH and heavy Wittebro angst this is the place for you! Do not let the bright colors trick you, things will get dark pretty fast.

I want to dedicate this post to talk about my personal design of Young Philip Wittebane, because there are some details I am very proud of!

- The 9-years old design is very straightforward. Like hunter’s, it is simply a personal interpretation of his canon outfit. In this case, I wanted to remark the dire situation the two brothers were living in, with the clothes being clearly old and ill fitted for the small boy, and of course, i couldn’t not include his precious stag wooden mask.

- Now, for the second design, we get into interesting territory. For the hair, he decided to let it grow so that he would be able to tie it up, as a silent small tribute to his older brother.

- As it can clearly be seen by the first image, Philip is much smaller both in height and body type when compared to Hunter. This is due 3 factors: age, diet and lifestyle. In my au, Philip is around 12 years old, while Hunter is around 17. Hunter trains intensely to be the best of the best, a soldier and a perfect golden guard, even more than in canon as he is held to much higher and stricter standards, so he is of course more buff. And finally, the boiling isles offer a rather poor diet for a small human child.

- Philip has a belt with a bag attached to it, in which he carries his precious notebook

- the embroidery at the center of his outfit is meant to resemble a stag, but from the distance it may appear a demon as well

- AND FOR MY FAVORITE DETAIL: THE CLEARER SPOTS ON HIS CLOTHES. Okay, this has actually a double meaning! First and foremost, his outfit is meant to represent fire. This element can have many interpretations, something warm, but dangerous, that can give life and death in equal measure- but I personally mainly wanted to make a subtle nod to the witch hunting tradition of his home town, having him represent a pire on fire on which the people accused of being witches would be burnt alive. On the other side tho- the spots represent something much more innocent! When stags are still baby deers, bambis, they tend to have their back covered in white spots, which disappear as they grow up. This is to symbolize that even if he wears the mask of a stag, Philip in this AU is still very much a small child who has a lot to grow up to do, and no mask can change that as he wears barely disguised the signs of his naivety.

These are all my favorite details! I am so proud of this and I really hope you will enjoy it as well. More content will be soon posted in which I will go into more details about this AU.

PS: Charis is the fake name Philip uses in the Boiling Isles :3

#philip wittebane #fanart #caleb wittebane #hunter wittebane #wittebane brothers #wittebros #kid belos #kid philip #the owl house #the owl house au #try02art #Charis!AU #toh hunter #toh belos #my very first au #i am so proud #fan design

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spencerdaze · 10 months

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Overanalyzing Guillermo del Toro's Crimson Peak

Continuing with my very long posts overanalyzing my favourite movies, yesterday I saw del Toro's 2015 Crimson Peak for like the 50th time. Being one of my favourite movies i always talk about how i could make an essay just based on the link between the power of the characters and their hair, and i though 'Welp, Tumblr exists, might as well!' so here it is. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

For those of you who don't know, Crimson Peak is the name of a movie from 2015 directed and written (i think) by Guillermo del Toro. It's NOT a horror movie, as many people think, but a gothic romance type of movie, with a lot of ambiance and spirits that are more metaphorical than scary. The movie was not very well received because people thought it would be a horror movie due to the trailers focusing too much on the horror aspect of the ghosts, but i find it to be one of the best movies made in the gothic genre. As a gothic writer myself, it really is one of the best examples of the genre there is!

Now, the movie has a lot of gorgeous aesthetic choices that carry a heavy symbolism. Set in the 1890s to the 1900s, the victorian aesthetic of the turn of the century helps the movie have more modern aditions like typewriters and gramophones, which almost helps the story feel more modern since most gothic stories take place in the middle of the nineteenth century, and they feel further and more distant to readers. Many of the choices in clothing also help with one of the biggest symbolisms in it: the moth vs the butterfly. Edith, our protagonist, wears appropriate clothing for the period with big puffy sleeves and golden colours that help us see her as a beautiful butterfly, while Lucille wears clothes from a decade earlier, which help with showing the brothers are struggling with money, but also stucks her in a 1970s dress that almost looks like a pupa, where a dangerous black moth is going to come out of. Lucille is placed as the black moth, dangerous for the butterfly and opressive to herself and others. The costuming in the movie is great, but i want to talk about the colors the movie uses and how they relate to power.

In Edith's home, the main colours used are golds and browns, which help us see she feels powerful and good in her hometown, as shown also by her golden hair. Lucille and Thomas inmediatly look out of place, dressed mostly in black and cool greys, with the exception being Lucille's red dress she wears when she's first introduced, showing us she's dangerous, a walking red flag. Her hair, of course, is a deep raven black. Lucille and Edith both have a power struggle, in this case because of the love the each feel for Thomas, and the only thing that doesn't change in them is their hair colour, since in the climax and fighting scene both of them wear their hair loose while dressed in white, showing their power struggle. Something happens in Allerdale Hall as well: Edith's clothes become darker and less saturated, and her hair becomes loose. Her hair, her power, is becoming less and less as Lucille, still dressed in black for most of this part of the film, has gained power being in her isolated mansion.

While in Edith's town, at the park, Lucille cuts of a butterfly's chrysallis from a tree branch before the butterfly comes out, as she sits on a floor covered in dead butterflies in golden colours. And this is one of my favourite parallels of the movie. In the last moments of the film, before her fight with Edith, while Edith signs her lawyer's documents focibly, Lucille cuts of a lock of her hair. In the victorian era, cutting your hair wasn't very common amongst the higher classes, only being done to people who had passed away as a means of remembering by creating jewels out of their hair. The act of cutting of one of Edith's golden locks is basically Lucille telling her 'I won, you have no power, this is your end, your death', similar to how she cuts of the butterfly from the tree, yet again showing Lucille as a black moth that eats the golden butterfly. But Edith still has her power, with her golden hair long and cascading down her shoulders, and she uses said power to escape and, in the end, manages to kill the black month, turning Lucille into a black vengeful spirit.

This movie is one of the best i've seen in a while and you can see how obssessed i am with it lol. Just like the hair, the costuming and settings of the film as well as things like lighting and use of colour are charged with heavy symbolisms and meanings that you can look into if you're obssessed with it like i am. I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it and you like ghostly romances in creepy haunted mansions.

#film #cinema #guillermo del toro #movies #film review #movie review #review #crimson peak #mia wasikowska #tom hiddleston #gothic #gothic aesthetic #romance #romantic suspense #ghost

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numbknee · 1 year

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Enough of the suffering thru the asks abt all the other cartman ships, what abt your brain rot? 🥺 what *are* your thoughts on kyman?? Go ham dude

ooooh dear... where to begin with the kyman brainrot....... I guess I’ll start at the beginning. VERY LONG POST under the cut. this is basically my kyman meta magnum opus lmao

I’ve talked about this ad nauseam before, but I really, REALLY didn’t want to get into south park. I had only ever watched like 2 full episodes before 2021 and I simply did not understand the appeal. I just thought the draw to the show was the shock factors: gross-out humor, children swearing and committing violence, and blatant bigotry played for laughs. I didn’t understand how it could be so popular other than “well I guess there are lots of horrible people out there who like this horrible show.”

I grew up in a very WASP-y town and had peers in elementary/middle school who learned about the existence of antisemitism and other bigotries through south park. because kids are stupid and don’t understand satire, many of them took it at face value and were able to have shittons of words added to their vocabulary to put people down and insult them. it was horrible tbh. and I hated the show for that, even as a young kid. I personally wasn’t perfect by any means but even as a snot-nosed, extremely sheltered little white girl I knew that you just shouldn’t do that shit. our school system in particular lauded the “golden rule” constantly (we had to do a school-specific pledge after the pledge of allegiance every day... yeah I know, very american) and I was like “cmon, you guys can’t even follow that ONE RULE to be a semi-decent human being?? really??”

anyway at the end of 2021, my younger brother asked me to watch the post-covid specials with him and he was very excited about it. I was immediately hesitant, especially because in recent years he has become alarmingly incel-y and took a hard turn to the right while I became a leftist. I reluctantly agreed to sit through it to try to understand him more because, even though his political ideology sucks ass, he’s still my brother and I do love him.

so I watched the specials, and I came out the other side of it shell-shocked with how surprisingly good the writing was. THIS stupid show, the show that all this time I thought was bottom-of-the-barrel comedy, was... GOOD??? particularly regarding CARTMAN??

the only things I knew about cartman going into it were the following: he’s fat, he says the name “kyle” weird, and he’s a horrible antisemite. and they made him grow up to be a freaking RABBI. it completely caught me off guard and *gasp* actually made me laugh???? what????

there were plenty of other things I loved about the post-covid specials, like my depressed ass relating WAAAY too hard with stan, the extremely on-the-nose satire of the state of advertisement/capitalism with the stupid “denny’s applebee’s max” restaurant chain gag and all the old people being shoved into a giant prison retirement home once they aren’t productive anymore, kenny getting sick of the gang’s bullshit and writing “FUCK THESE HOES” on a beloved childhood photo, butters become a snake-oil salesman for NFTs, kyle being told to “think like a kid” and like 2 seconds later realizing they need to look up kenny’s ass. I could go on but you get the point.

I liked it way more than I thought I ever would. and obviously, I often find south park funny for different reasons than my brother does because matt & trey are very good at toeing the line of appealing to both sides of the american political spectrum, but it’s become a point of bonding between us in the year since I started watching the show and I’m grateful for that.

of course, since i’m terminally on tumblr and ao3, I also started to dive into the fandom of south park. I had heard about the whole creek thing years ago and waved it off as a stupid gag but then I realized wait, holy shit, there’s actually a GIGANTIC shipping culture around south park??? at first I got into style because of the interesting concept of post-covid kyle and stan reconnecting after decades apart and not being the same people they used to be but trying to make it work anyway (I even wrote a fic about it ahahaa...)

but after a while I got tired of the ship because as I watched the rest of the show, I realized their relationship just wasn’t as interesting as I thought it would be. like they’re best friends but... why? because they’ve known each other forever? they both like video games? they make fun of cartman together? the fact they’re “super-best-friends” is kind of taken for granted by the show and the audience, but imo matt and trey never really explore the intricacies of their relationship very much. y’all can disagree with me on this but idk, all I know is that I got bored with style as a ship after like 2 months.

while scrolling through ao3 and tumblr, I ran across kyman fics/fanart for the first time back in february or so. at first I was appalled because... why the everloving fuck would you ship the blatant antisemite with the jewish kid??? really???? isn’t style a much better choice??? but sheer curiosity got the better of me, so I did what I always do when I’m curious about a ship: select for fics with kyle broflovski/eric cartman, sort by kudos, and read the first result (or in this case the second because the first had creek as the main ship). y’all know which fic that is if you’ve even slightly gotten into kyman. it was interesting, but I personally didn’t see them as the actual characters from the show in that fic. they were fandom versions of kyle and cartman, with their personalities changed enough to fit the standard mlm shipping dynamic that’s popular in fandom spaces (particularly regarding dom/sub aspects). I’ve seen it happen in plenty of other fandoms so I wasn’t surprised, but I still couldn’t see how it could possibly work if one were to use their canon character depictions.

all the while I was making my way through episodes of the show cuz it’s long af, and over time I became more and more intrigued with kyle and cartman’s relationship. cartman quickly became my favorite character in the show because of how fucking complex and layered his personality is (see my tags on this post), and though kyle despises cartman in countless ways, he still is the only one who consistently tries to find goodness in him, tries to make him change for the better, saves him when no one else will, and remains his friend despite everything. it’s a remarkably complex dynamic.

little hints of kyman started creeping up on me: cartman being frequently queer-coded as a closeted gay kid. kyle getting extremely jealous of cartman and heidi’s relationship. both of them on separate occasions saving the other from death or injury without wanting any credit for it or lording it over each other. “we've been through a lot together, and... maybe that alone doesn't make us friends, but it makes us something”

needless to say, I started to get it. and then I encountered the straw that broke the camel’s back: “know your enemy” by elsen on ao3. I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve read that fic probably over a dozen times. it was shockingly well-written and so in-tune with the style and tone of the show that I was like “is this person spirit-channelling trey parker or something wtf???” and all of a sudden, I could see how, in a different universe, kyman could actually be an endgame ship.

what sold me on it the most was how in-character it seemed for cartman to be a repressed, denial-ridden sub, especially regarding his desired relationship with kyle. there’s plenty of canon evidence that cartman has a secret crush on kyle (see this vid by johnny 2 cellos), but there’s no way that kyle could reciprocate those feelings, right?? imo kyle would probably rather die than enter a romantic relationship with cartman where he had to submit to him all the time, but if cartman would want kyle to be dominant over him??? where kyle has control and is able to curb cartman’s problematic behavior as he sees fit??? that opens up a whole other door of possibilities.

I think what kyle wants more than anything else in the world regarding cartman is for the goodness he sees deep down inside him to come to the surface, and for kyle to be the one to guide him (or force him when necessary) to becoming a better person through love and patience and inherent understanding of his fucked up little head??? I can definitely see kyle wanting that (especially since I see kyle as a repressed, denial-ridden sadist/dom lmao; see this post for my thoughts on that).

it was all downhill from there. I found tons of other cool kyman shippers on tumblr and twitter whose writing and fanart helped suck me in even more and I’ve been stuck in kyman hell ever since. special shoutout to the asker for her kyman analysis posts that inspired this fic I wrote! love u boo <3

ANYWAY that’s how I became a whore for kyman lolololol ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ have a nice day everybody

#if you read this whole thing i love u #i hope to god no one i know irl finds this blog 🙃🙃🙃#this also doubles as a personal fandom history for myself lol #kyman #ask #my post

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merryfortune · 8 months

Text

hold your breath and count the days, we’re graduating soon

Written as a gift fic for @katsuballs who won my raffle earlier this year

Ship: Galaxymastershipping | Kaito/Mizael

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! ZeXal

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,435

Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Drama, Fluff, First Kiss

September 1st.

Kaito was having a completely average first day of the last of his days. That was his goal anyway. Get in, get out. No one needed to see him, no one needed to bother him. It was really meant to be that simple. Get straight A’s and get the hell out of town as soon as his letter of acceptance from his university of choice came.

Until then, he just had to bite down hard on his lower lip and bear it. He sure wasn’t going to grin and bear it but he was going to white knuckle it. All the insults, all the disruptions, the disrespect between peers and faculty and he would make it out on the other side alive. That is legitimately all Kaito wanted.

The last thing he wanted was a beginning of the year rager.

Partying - and people in particular - were incredibly incompatible with Kaito’s goals in life. He could think of nothing worse than getting wasted, staying up past dawn, and all for what? A hangover the next day? Because there were a couple boys on the high school football team were good at passing the football around between each other? It was entirely an eye roll for Kaito.

It was an entirely different lifestyle and sphere. Same school, sure, debatably the same people but completely, totally, entirely different worlds. With very little overlap to him, hermit king of the mathletes.

And yet.

“You want to come or not, nerd?”

He looked up at this fellow… schoolmate of his. Not a classmate. He was fairly certain this guy was from 3-C whereas he was situated in 3-A and it had been that way for all eternity. Read, last three years. But Kaito recognised him which was the main thing.

An admittedly easy feat because he was quite easy on the eyes. A literal golden child of the school when it came to sports-related accolades. Field and track, football, he did it all and with rather long blonde hair, a firm but slight build, and piercing eyes.

Kaito frowned, “Don’t call me a nerd.” he huffed.

He snatched the piece of paper from this person’s hands. He was taken aback by how it was just ripped from his hands and that caused his pretty face to quiver, displeased.

And now, somehow, against all the odds, two asteroids which were never meant to cross paths and remain forever perpendicular had met.

They didn’t even know each other’s names but their gazes, sharp and discerning, disgruntled on both ends, had connected.

But of course Kaito wasn’t going to go to this party that he had clearly been invited to because he was simply sitting in the vicinity of where it was being planned in the library. He only accepted the piece of paper because he needed to quickly scribble out some notes to himself, nothing of consequence, let alone related to his schoolwork and yet.

End up that party was exactly what he did.

Only because he needed to be out of the house and he didn’t exactly what to be alone. Being alone in a crowd of people was fine but not actually, really, truly by himself. He was a little bit… pent up regarding some things. Kaito knew his Father was doing his best and his little brother even more so but being cast out so Haruto could recuperate in his hospital room, which fit a total of one guest exactly, was a little nerve racking.

So his options were all pretty bland. Kaito could either go to sleep in his bed in his big empty house whilst worrying about his brother or he could go to a dumb party he had been invited to where his senses would be too overloaded to let his anxiety get the better of him. Somehow, the latter seemed like the better option. Which even Kaito couldn’t believe but hey.

No one stopped him when he turned up at the place of the party. No one batted an eye at him, actually. It was as though he hadn’t even turned up in the first place but honestly, that’s how Kaito wanted it. He really didn’t want to be looked at but he didn’t really want to be looking at anyone else either.

He sort of knew the names and maybe he could probably put a couple of those names to familiar faces. All he knew was that things were getting pretty wild. All the usual teenage antics, of course. Dancing on tables, throwing up in the garden, all that sort of thing.

It was really super gross. But it beat worrying himself to death about his little brother in his room alone, Kaito figured.

As he scanned the crowd for something to take his mind off things, Kaito noticed that the blonde haired guy who had technically invited him to this party was here. Which, you know, made sense. It was his party and he wasn’t the life of it, surprisingly.

More like… the chaperone. He looked large and in charge, sure, with some kind of beer can in his hand but he looked like an eagle with how he surveilled his pridelands and was taking stock of damages so far, no doubt.

Through the crowd and the horrible top 40 pop music playing through someone’s streaming service on a speaker, Kaito made eye contact with this guy and given that he was doing all the mingling, saying hello to all his guests… He made no exception for Kaito. He cut through the crowd effortlessly and seemed strangely above it all. Even the music.

“You actually came.” he said.

“Yeah, well…” Kaito shrugged. He bit his tongue before he could say, “I have my reasons.” He wasn’t about to spill his guts to this guy about why he was here.

There was a pregnant pause and he took a sip of his drink. Kaito watched. He slurped it down slowly, still making eye contact with Kaito. That irked him to say the least. He’d never been big on it but this guy’s golden eyes were too much too soon with how sharp they were. Judgemental, being a good word here as well, Kaito felt as he was studied up and down by this jock.

“Real party animal you are,” he said, derisive, “absolute social butterfly.”

“Do you even know my name?” Kaito asked.

“Do you know mine?” he asked.

“...Touche.” Kaito begrudgingly replied.

“Mizael.” he replied.

“Tenjou. Tenjou Kaito.” he said.

“Charmed, I’m sure.” Mizael bitterly responded.

Kaito grit his teeth, “Likewise.”

Then they fell into silence again. Watching the other, waiting for him to do something. The tension was uncomfortable. It was as though they were the only two people in the room and were determined to fill all that empty space with tentative contempt.

“So, like…. Do you do anything for fun?” Mizael asked.

“Not really.” Kaito freely admitted, staring at his shoes.

Mizael huffed and crossed his arms, “The whole goal of hosting a party is to have fun with your guests, you know. You're making that hard. Is there anything you like? Like, I don’t know, do you have a favourite colour?”

“That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?” Kaito huffed. “Why does it even matter to you? Just go hang out with someone else.”

Mizael was blankly not listening. He sighed again, “Do you think cereal goes into the bowl first or do you think milk goes into the bowl first?”

“Milk, obviously.” Kaito replied so quickly, he felt tricked into replying.

But his reply was very much not what Mizael was expecting. He began to sputter, his hand acted independent of him. As though it were an animatronic on the fritz as he tried to grapple with Kaito’s statement. The enormity of it entirely lost on Kaito who stared at Mizael as he had his miniature conniption.

“You fool, you weirdo, you could not be more obviously wrong. It's cereal first, you heathen.” Mizael snapped.

“But then how would you know what the optimal ratio is?” Kaito argued back. He felt his blood pressure spike for no good reason. “Cereal is the main source of sustenance in cereal so why would you not proportionate it to the treat of milk?”

“Because milk is invaluably nutritious in its own right?!” Mizael exclaimed.

“Weirdo.” Kaito spat.

“Motherfucker.” Mizael replied.

“Get a room! Some of us are trying to have fun over here!”

That put Mizael in his place. Surprisingly.

He let out half a puff of laughter and that diffused the tension between him and Kaito. Which Kaito appreciated. Also surprisingly.

Mizael sighed, “I need to cool my head.” he said. “And drink something that doesn’t have alcohol in it clearly. Want to come with?”

“Where?” Kaito screwed up his face.

“To a place I know.” Mizael said.

Now, that should have been a red flag. Stranger danger. Secondary locations were where people got tricked into going and killed for it. And yet, Kaito agreed. He wasn’t exactly taking to the party as well as some of the more natural socialites and party animals. Besides, he was going to be with the host of the party. Surely nothing too bad could happen, so Kaito decided to take his chances with the brisk night air and the cold concrete pavements.

Mizael strung Kaito along about a block or so away from his place to the corner store not too far away. It had a parking lot out the back with shrubbery to the sides and litter in the gutter. The fluorescent lights of the shop itself lit up more brightly than the actual lamp posts along the street; smog covered the stars so they weren’t relevant at all to the situation, Kaito just missed them.

He found himself thinking it would be nice to drink a slushie or two under them.

Mizael had been a gentleman and bought Kaito a drink from inside the convenience store. All the rows and aisles looked exactly the same from location to location. The uniformity of it was oddly comforting and made the sour-sweet shock of how sugary the slushie was all the more confronting.

Mizael laughed at Kaito’s screwed up face as he sucked down some strawberry ice. They also ate some lollies, hard candies and chews and the like. It was actually quite refreshing to be out on the edge of the parking lot, sitting against the yellow, rounded fences and chatting.

They had made some light conversation on the way but now that they were here, it was easier. They were getting through the hard stuff. The who are you, what classes do you enjoy, what do your parents do? All that sort of stuff.

“So, what’s your favourite colour again?” Mizael asked, thinking that he would have better luck this time.

And he did. This time, Kaito replied, “Yellow.”

“Me too.” Mizael said.

“Like really pale, almost white yellow.” Kaito clarified.

“Okay, I'm the opposite. Give me daffodils or give me death.” Mizael laughed.

“I like caramel, too.” Kaito added.

“Like the colour or the candy? Because I have some here.” Mizael said as he offered a mixed bag of hard candies to Kaito.

“Both.” Kaito replied as he reached into the open bag. “My little brother really likes caramels as well.”

“You have a little brother?” Mizael asked.

“Yes, his name is Haruto and…” Kaito wasn’t sure if he should share anymore but when he glanced at Mizael, he didn’t see him as some stuck in the mud jock. Instead, he saw a friend so instead of just remain silent or just straight up lie, Kaito was honest. “And he’s in the hospital. I’m hoping to bring him some more caramels when he can have guests again.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry to hear there.” Mizael said and he paused too.

That silence made Kaito’s ears prick up. As strange as that sounded but it did. His stomach tightened. He had shared something vulnerable and now it was Mizael’s turn. Then he spoke.

“Is it serious?” he asked. “Because I lost my grandfather recently. He was in palliative care in the hospital, he was so old but it still hurt a lot. I can only imagine what it would be like to be young and to go through that. How old is Haruto?”

“Twelve.” Kaito said and he felt bad. Mizael had it worse with his grandfather and though he was too slow to reply, he did clarify. “Haruto’s really sick but he’s not that sick. It’s just one thing or another with him, starting prematurely, a heart defect, a little bit of everything but he’s a fighter. I’m proud of him.”

“You should be.” Mizael smiled, bittersweet.

Kaito’s heart lurched, “I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather.”

“Thanks.” Mizael said.

The mood turned…. Well, moody, after that and was the best way Kaito could describe it. He really wasn’t good with emotions. Or people. But looking at Mizael, how he seemed bittersweet in the illuminating moonlight mixed with the sharp haze of the streetlight, it seemed they had come to an understanding. It was difficult to say, difficult to share but for a whole minute, Kait could only stare and ruminate and realise, he had a friend.

He wanted to consider Mizael a friend.

But just like that one 80’s movie, come Monday morning of the next week, it was as though those precious moments hadn’t happened at all. Something Kaito should have expected. They came from two very different stratas of the social standing of high school. It was never meant to be anything more fleeting than the taste of sugar on ice.

Or so it seemed, at first.

Kaito had given up by noon, trying to get Mizael’s attention again at school. Their secrets had been shared but seemed relatively safe with another as gossip about sick relatives, dead or dying, didn’t really interest very many people. Not when the juicy stuff was things like who was sleeping with who but Kaito had half wanted to try.

But borders that had long since been drawn were too tight to cross, especially on a whim or even in a classroom, and it's not like very many places around the school could be eaten during lunch. Life wasn’t the west, after all, and real life wasn’t anime, either, and there was no access to the rooftops.

Though today wouldn’t have been a good day for it, even if they could eat on the sides of the school’s courtyard or on the rooftops, it was way too miserable to be outside. Just like Kaito’s hopes and expectations for the day. It started out promising then got steadily more dour as the day wore on.

A perfectly bright early morning turned grey before noon which turned into a drizzle by the afternoon which turned into actual proper rain by the time school was over. And guess who didn’t bring his umbrella?

Kaito thought he didn’t need to. Just like he thought he didn’t need to tell Mizael “see you on Monday” before they had gone their separate ways after their little romp to the convenience store. They’d both gone home after that. Awkward, no real resolution because where was there to go after an exchange of confessions like they had shared together in the parking lot?

Looking up at the sky, on the threshold of the school’s entry which looked out onto the courtyard, Kaito cursed himself. Why hadn’t he checked the forecast? Why hadn’t he done this or that? He sighed heavily to himself as it rained and it poured. There was a lot more that could have been done and shallowly, Kaito took pride in that even though he’d had his head caught up in some kind of social bubble, it hadn’t affected his own studies.

They were just friends. He didn’t know why he felt the need to clarify that to himself and his inner monologue but he did. Likely because this kind of… pining was usually relegated to idiots who sat by the window, looking out of it dreamily. A crush. No, Kaito was simply fascinated by the novelty of having a friend. A novelty which was just like any other trend. It came, it went, and now there was nothing.

Kaito sighed again. He made up his mind. No use crying over spilt milk, clothes would dry and he very rarely got sick anyway. He would just brave the rain like everyone else who had foregone bringing an umbrella this morning because it had been so sunny and balmy.

Kaito tried to step out but something stopped him. A voice, just a sharp yet casual intonation of, “Hey.”

He looked over his shoulder and blinked.

“Mizael.”

“That’s my name, no need to wear it out.” Mizael scolded him.

“Sorry.” Kaito murmured as he stepped back into the shelter of the school’s entryway.

“Forget your umbrella today, I take it?” Mizael asked, he made a half-hearted gesture. “You seem like Mr. Overprepared, if I’m being honest, I thought you would be the kind of guy to bring an umbrella to a drought.”

“I usually am more on the ball than this.” Kaito huffed.

“Looks like we have that in common.” Mizael laughed. It was a puffy, embarrassed laugh which made Kaito realise something.

Mizael was just as empty handed as he was on this downpour of a day, on the edge of the school’s threshold. It made Kaito laugh also. The same sort of half-hearted chuckle.

“But.” Mizael piped up.

“But?” Kaito quirked a brow.”

“Can I at least get you as far as the closest bus shelter? I know we live in kind of opposite directions.” Mizael offered but it wasn’t exactly the world’s most enticing offer as it came accompanied with him lifting up his jacket.

Kaito got the idea of course. They could protect themselves perfectly well from the rain if they just patchworked their jackets together.

“And get a good whiff off your armpits? No thank you.” Kaito replied.

“Ew, gross.” Mizael made a face, his nose scrunched up in disgust far more visibly than the repulsion that Kaito was exhibiting. “As if. Practice was called off so I am fresh as a daisy. Promise.”

Kaito stared unimpressed at Mizael but when he glanced over his shoulder, the other option didn’t appeal to him all that much either. So, he relented.

“Fine.” he said. “Let’s do this.”

“Cool.” Mizael flashed a smile.

They huddled up together and they did their best to make it work. Mizael had such an aura about him that Kaito hadn’t even noticed they were actually about the same height. What they did with their heights was completely different though not irrelevant as their different levels of athleticism became all the more pronounced as they tried to make it through the rain.

With their jackets combined over their heads, they were out of time and out of pace with one another. Mizael could go faster, Kaito was out of breath just trying to keep up. Even when Mizael slowed, it wasn’t much better either because their three-legged race adjacency was impatient and uncoordinated.

The course that it ended up charting was a lot further than the bus stop, too, which Kaito found strange but it's not like he was trying to keep it to that previously agreed upon length, either.

They reached the first bus stop but they kept going, almost as if they hadn’t seen it. They had, of course. They even stopped long enough to read when the next bus was coming and they decided, nah, no, it's too long away and look at the rain? It was absolutely pouring. They were better off to keep going. So, they did.

Leg by leg, hand not in hand, sharing the jackets which were getting battered by the pelting rain. It made Kaito laugh and Kaito did not laugh all that often and Mizael made fun of how he laughed but not in a bullying way. Just that, it was unexpected to hear him laugh. It was cute.

They passed by a second and third bus stop too but they didn’t even blink twice at them. They chatted - and complained about the rain or teachers or homework - along the way before eventually, they ended up in front of Kaito’s house.

Just in time for the weather to clear up, too. Naturally. There was a faint rainbow lost in the haze of pollution far off in the distance, hidden in the sharp corners and vertices of buildings or the soggy foliage of resilient trees. The city smelt and felt sharper now that the rain had soaked what there was of the cement and earth of the blinding Heartland City inner suburbs there were.

“Thanks for dropping me off.” Kaito said.

“My pleasure.” Mizael replied.

They were both dripping wet. Not exactly soaked through to the bone, however. Their jackets had managed to protect bits and pieces of them. The back of Kaito’s head was dry, for example, and Mizael’s forehead for another.

It was awkward but they untangled from each other. Their arms long and janky as they made what should have been an easy task impossible but they managed in the end. They whipped soggy jackets around, wrung them out and made light conversation.

“Do you want to toss your jacket through the dryer?” Kaito asked to be helpful but he was hopeful, too. To get Mizael to stay a little longer.

He must have noticed that little glimmer of wanting even more time with his very first friend because Mizael turned standoffish. He shrugged, everted his gaze from Kaito’s direction. But he still let Kaito collect his jacket out of his arms, folding it up as it wet the middle of his belly as he held it in front of him over his arms, all prim and proper.

“If you want,” Mizael said and he stepped a little bit closer to Kaito, “it's not that cold. I can leave it here, you can dry it off, and then bring me it tomorrow. And I better see you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Kaito said yet he had this odd inkling as he observed these microexpressions of Mizael.

They were all so small and slow, like time had come to a crawl, and yet so fast at the same time. Kaito’s heart skipped a beat as something unprecedented happened. Something impossible.

Mizael leaned in and he stole a kiss from Kaito’s lips.

He had never kissed anyone before. He had never been kissed by someone before and it wasn’t as awful as Kaito had always told himself that it would be. Weird textures, bad breath, terrible technique. Mizael was none of those things as he kissed Kaito and to Mizael’s surprise, and even his own, Kaito kissed him back.

Kaito had never had the urge to kiss someone before. Then again, Kaito had never let himself want to be close to someone. Let alone actually. Yet here he was. With Mizael and kissing him, too.

His heart raced as he sneaked just this graze of his lips against Mizael’s and he swallowed Mizael’s gasp. Right before he went back down onto the balls of his feet as he held on so tight to Mizael’s jacket, even though it was sopping wet. He wasn’t going to be getting it back any time soon.

“Talk tomorrow, yeah?” Mizael said.

“Sure.” Kaito said.

Mizael backed away just slightly and Kaito awkwardly waved him goodbye. He didn’t leave, however. He just watched Mizael turn tail and walk away. Not quite like the kiss had never happened; Kaito could see the corners of Mizael’s mouth in an upward smile, his cheeks scantily coloured red with a smugly embarrassed blush. Not bad. Not bad indeed,

And Kaito in fact felt much the same way.

He had to soak it in. the kiss, the jacket, the rain. He wanted to let it all drip down to the bone, to the soul. He did so for five minutes, not even noticing the time change over and over again from seconds to minutes. It was all a cloud nine moment of sweet and quiet, blissful eternity.

Only alerted by the passage of time when he heard the front door open and his Father yelled for his attention by calling his name.

“Yes?” Kaito said, trying to hide his foolish smile as he held onto the jacket, turning on his heel at long last. But he could feel it tug on his face and twist his expression cheerfully despite his efforts.

“Why are you standing out here? It’s getting cold and dark, just because it's not raining anymore does not mean you won’t catch a cold.” his Father scolded him.

Kaito laughed awkwardly. That was probably true. So he gingerly came inside, his Father holding the door open for him as he passed him by in an inscrutable good mood. One which was not characteristic to Kaito but his Father didn’t feel the need to question it.

Kaito came inside and he was kind enough to not only put Mizael’s jacket through the dryer but the first wash so that it would be clean for the following day. And whilst Mizael was thankful for that, he still got this overwhelming notion that he was never going to get it back. Which was fine. Because Kaito did look damn good wearing it.

Sure, sure, it was a perfect cut school uniform jacket but there were these little foibles that only either of them would notice. The way it was slightly too big on Kaito and even the way he wore it, it was so possessive and savouring in demeanour. Honestly, Mizael found it adorable as he smiled before bringing it.

“You're wearing my jacket.” Mizael astutely observed.

It was still quite early in the morning for school. Seemed like both he and Kaito had had the same idea about this whole jacket thing and maybe just wanted to talk about what had happened yesterday. The kiss was fresh on both their minds and their mouths.

“I am. You don’t mind, right?” Kaito said.

“A little.” Mizael murmured. “What happened to yours?”

“Mistook it for this one.” Kaito lied and Mizael knew he was lying.

Mizael shrugged, “Looks good on you, if a little long in the sleeves. I’m sure it’ll make its way back to me, not like I’m running out of clothes anytime soon. Let alone school clothes.”

“Thanks.” Kaito said.

“So does that mean you're all in on it - on us - being official?” Mizael asked.

Kaito swallowed thickly. It all just seemed so random. The happenstance of entropy, the way they had fallen in with each other to bond let alone for feelings of permanence to take form. Yet even so, he nodded.

“It does.” he said. “I’d like that.”

“Me too.” Mizael said. “So, keep wearing my jacket, it’s fine.”

Kaito blinked and he felt his heart skip a beat as he managed to eke out a reply, “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Mizael flashed him a smile and Kaito had a feeling he was never going to get used to it.

Mizael’s teeth were pearly white. His hair was golden blonde, constantly wreathing him in a halo. He was blinded by just the slightest smile, let alone all for him and him alone.

Yet, Kaito had no choice but to get used to it. Mizael, golden boy of the school, darling of the football team, and resume etcetera was now officially his boyfriend and it made for a pretty good honeymoon period, too.

It was strange but over a month, they found themselves in a nice, little sweet spot. They were together but they weren’t overbearing about it. They could be their own persons individually and even together as a couple. They kept it on the downlow, of course. Kaito was a private person and Mizael didn’t want to seem like he was being distractible. They both had their own focuses, their own goals. Sometimes they aligned but more often than not they didn’t since their disciplines were quite different.

And were going to take them to different places.

Like different schools. Even if it was temporarily. So that Mizael can go and play sports ball real good and make the school proud and all that jazz. Kaito should have been hyped for his boyfriend. This was a big game, hence the school excursion, but instead, it was agony. It was absolute torture.

It was a huge opportunity. Two weeks abroad in America, all expenses paid, three meals a day, and travel, all to play football and maybe even get scouted by some of the best agents in the game. Kaito should be happy for Mizael. It was all he could talk about in the lead-up to his departure but Kaito had held on so tight, he didn’t want to believe time was passing at all until… goodbye.

See you soon.

But soon couldn’t come soon enough.

That little month beforehand had been so slow like molasses dripping out a jar but now that they were finally separated, it felt even slower. And there was nothing Kaito could really do except stare out the window and daydream about Mizael, hoping that he was fine. Mobile phones and social media were banned on these sorts of trips, nothing but the best behaviour expected but anxiety ran wild through Kaito’s head, nonetheless.

They say that no news was good news but Kaito didn’t know who they were so he sure as hell didn’t believe it as all his body throbbed with worry. Any number of things could go wrong. From the little - like a twisted ankle - to the massive - like a crashed aeroplane - but Kaito had to keep himself from worrying. They’d been going out for a month and it's not like Mizael had up and died or anything… Though, Kaito was acting like it.

Especially with his coping mechanism but he just wasn’t the type to take separation well.

So, he had taken to not just wearing Mizael’s jacket, but sleeping with it, too. He couldn’t dare to wash it lest it rid the fabric of Mizael’s scent but it was getting less and less each day. Even so, Kaito cherished the original smell of it as a memento of its original owner.

Musk worked up from a hard day’s slog on the football field mixed with the shampoo and conditioner that Mizael used. The scent of his laundry detergent and the food he ate that lingered on it. It all mixed together to make something uniquely Mizael and uniquely comforting for Kaito.

Wearing it, sleeping with it, it didn’t matter: having Mizael’s jacket with him was a blessing that Kaito relished.

Up until the blessed day that Mizael returned from overseas and what do you know? No news was good news and the good news that followed was great news.

Still, Kaito was basically crawling up the walls of his bedroom when alone. He was going maddeningly bored and worried without Mizael and without a scrap of Mizael’s contact with him. Of course, he went even more insane when Mizael finally made his glorious return and what a return it was.

Him and his team had won!

They had done exceptionally well, even. It wasn’t easy, of course. They had to work tooth and nail to earn every single win but they had done it. Whether it was by leaps and bounds or the tiniest margin, Mizael and his team had truly brought pride to their high school in these international leagues.

Kaito couldn’t be prouder.

He also couldn’t think of anything worse than being covered in sweat, mud, and grass stains but hey. If it made Mizael happy, then it made Kaito happy. He was just glad that Mizael had left the sweat, mud, and grass stains in America as when they met up again - at the airport, no less - he was quite pristine. Save for the bags under his eyes and how crumpled he looked from sitting in a tiny aeroplane seat for countless hours.

But Kaito couldn’t be happier.

Mizael was all crusty and tired but perked up seeing his boyfriend. Even from across the airport. It had all the usual hustle and bustle, luggage going everywhere, tourists and nationals going to and fro like ants on a beeline to who knows where. The din covered the conversation as they said hello to each other upon meeting.

Kaito’s heart swelled and he couldn’t help himself. As soon as Mizael was in front of him, he latched on with the biggest bear hug in the world. He buried his face against Mizael’s chest and inhaled his time warped morning breath with a smile. He squeezed the air out of Mizael and he laughed a haggard laugh. They stayed like that for a good few minutes until it dawned on Kaito that maybe… Breaking Mizael’s spine wasn’t a good idea.

Yet Mizael was incredibly charmed nonetheless. As Kaito slowly let go, Mizael’s eyes turned soft and fond.

“You have a surprising cute side, you know,” Mizael murmured as he patted the top of Kaito’s head, “but I actually don’t know how surprised I should be.”

“Huh?” Kaito asked as he recomposed himself.

Or at least tried to. He, himself, had his own reputation to protect and curate. He didn’t need people who didn’t need to know that he had a soft side. Had a vulnerable side. That he was head over heels in love with the school’s jock and all that which entailed.

Kaito leaned back. He didn’t let go but he gave Mizael just enough space to breathe. His hands slid down to Mizael’s waist so they were still connected in an embrace, just not chest to chest.

“I, um, always had a sneaking suspicion.” Mizael revealed. “I used to see you around and wonder what your story was. I actually thought you were quite handsome-”

“Thought?” Kaito picked out specifically with a slight growl. Uncertain whether to be unimpressed or not.

“And still do think you're quite handsome.” Mizael added to placate Kaito. He placed his hand around Kaito’s chin and kissed him briefly. “Scratch that, very handsome.”

“That’s better.” Kaito snickered.

“But let me continue.” Mizael pointedly said and he let go of the caress he had Kaito held in.

“Okay, continue.” Kaito permitted him.

“I think I had bit of a crush on you, before we ever really met. I don’t know what to call it but I knew I wanted to get closer and I did. So now I do know your story. It's not all sunshine and rainbows but I’m glad I can be a part of it. I don’t know what I expected from you but certainly not this.” Mizael said.

Kaito chuckled amiably, in agreement, “Me too.”

“I’m glad.” Mizael smiled. “And, um, whilst I was gone, I really missed you and I don’t think it was the normal teenage pining thing or absence makes the heart grow fonder bullshit. That what we have is solid. I think it's real. I want to continue being here. With you.” Mizael said. He sounded all sappy and yet, sincere in the same breath. His eyes were like starshine with how in-love he sounded. “Can I ask something real quick?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kaito said and his heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want to get too ahead of himself. That the big three words - “I love you” - might get dropped but it's where his mind went.

“What is it that you want to do in the future?” Mizael asked.

See. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up so Kaito was glad he had tempered himself. Or at least tried to. Kaito’s lips twinged with the beginnings of a smile as he did that microsecond of soul searching, however, to come up with a reply. He already knew.

“I want to become a tenured lecturer at a prestigious university.” Kaito confessed.

Mizael’s eyes slitted and he chuckled, “Nerd.”

“Jock.” Kaito snipped back without missing a beat.

“But that’s a good dream. It suits you.” Mizael complimented him as soon as the moment softened again.

“Thanks.” Kaito said.

Mizael’s hands moved down Kaito’s body, along the edge of his arm before finding his hands. He held Kaito’s hands firmly at the end of this long, trailing movement and smiled. And even though they were in an airport, with all its hustle and bustle, it felt like they were the only two there.

“I want to see your dream come true, as repayment for how you're supporting me here and now,” Mizael murmured, “and then, I want us to have dreams together. A future together. Where one day, maybe not soon, maybe tomorrow or ten or twenty years later, we’ll have these weird, stupid moments on the lounge watching TV or in the kitchen, slow dancing. Or you know. Something to that effect.”

“It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” Kaito agreed.

Their movements were small but graceful enough to imitate a waltz. Mizael led. Naturally. He was the one who was far more kinetically gifted but Kaito was trying to wonder where he learned to dance because it didn’t feel talented. A little clunky, in fact. But he didn’t mind. It had his heart racing and spirits soaring nonetheless.

He took a breath and added to his agreement, “Let’s go home because why wait? The future isn’t promised to anyone.”

“Ah, that’s true…” Mizael replied and his eyes darkened. Kaito just knew that he was thinking of Haruto, who was always flickering between life and the opposite. He forced a smile that became a genuine one as he said, “But you're right. Let’s go home. Your place or mine?”

“Yours and let’s stop by the convenience store first, if you like.” Kaito suggested.

“I’d love to.” Mizael replied.

Kaito took the lead and he squeezed Mizael’s hand back. He was looking forward to a bag of chips and lollies as much as the next guy but it was Mizael’s vision for the future that he really wanted. It sounded nice, like a real happily ever after for two high school sweethearts on the cusp of university and who knows where higher education could take them.

But Kaito really did look forward to it. A future where he wasn’t dreading each day, trying to white knuckle through it until it got better but rather, a future that came naturally to him and with Mizael by his side.

#writing tag #mutuals tag #galaxymastershipping #mizakai #mizael (zexal)#<- you would not believe how many attempts it took to write zexal right now #kaito tenjou #tenjou kaito #yugioh zexal #zexal #long post

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