#oh how the hyperfocus tables have turned

[threeofeight]

Lmaoooo listen I bought dungeon draft a while back and decided this week I would just try out some new Crosshead world map assets to see how they were and started up doing Exandria, for science.

It was supposed to be a test, something I didn't need to do at all just to see.

It's been over 30 hours and still going.

There is 0 text on this map for places at all. It's purely just imagery and has moved into photoshop for neatening up and I've started god damn doodling extras on it.

So yeah, I've not yet finished. At this point I don't want to stop lmao, I've put too much effort into it and Yet I have 0 use for it. None.

[haleswallows]

I'm still on hiatus. Just already had this written and it felt like such a shame to not post it.

For @aug-kissed - Week 1 Indirect Kiss | Blow a Kiss | Butterfly Kisses Fandom: DC x DP Pairing: Dead on Main Rating: Explicit (NSFW) Sequel to: Fuck Me Like You Need It Summary: Danny meets a cute boy in the cafe. What else was he supposed to do? Teaser: Danny makes a deal with the devil himself. If he manages his homework, then tonight will be for getting fucked again. Satisfied with his plans, Danny dives into the geomatics assignment. Take that, Jazz! Danny can totally manage tasks and priorities. And without a planner!

Hyperfocus takes over. Danny’s vaguely aware of the coffee shop getting busy around him. His books have colonized a pretty significant part of the table. Slowly, he cedes his territory. Doesn’t even look up when someone sits next to him.

He surfaces for air, hand cramping. Danny searches for his coffee cup, finds it at his elbow and a little confused it isn’t where he remembers setting it last. Nose crinkling, Danny glares at the lid. That isn’t coffee. That’s tea, nothing more than glorified hot leaf juice. Disgusting. Danny prefers hot bean juice.

A stifled laugh makes him jump. Danny turns to the person - woah, hot guy - sitting directly next to him. Slowly, his mind grinds through a realization. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I stole your drink!” He sets down the cup, pushing it towards the hot guy.

Who smiles, amused. All rogue-ish and cocky.

“No worries. You looked like you were pretty focused.” He leans back and Danny gets a better look. First thought? Built, holy shitballs, built. Load bearing thighs, a tiny waist, broad chest, stacked shoulders. Arrogant smirk, pretty greenish-blueish eyes, and a white streak in his hair. Oh no, he’s Danny’s type. And Danny already embarrassed himself!

“Let me buy you another,” Danny pleads. He can feel how flushed he is, guts writhing in embarrassment.

“Nah, it’s fine. Promise.” Then, hot dude takes a sip, cocks his eyebrow.

[cyber-night]

Dottore gives you a gift.

Content warnings: Fluff????, Surgery mentions, nothing graphic, a little yandere, organs, also not graphic? Honestly, wholesome insanity,

When you get back from an expedition, you find out dottore your lover has both experimented on himself and gotten you a gift.

You had just gotten back from gathering specific and rare ingredients for Dottore. It had taken you a while, and you were a tad worried. Before you left, he had told you that he would be performing an experiment and that this one would take a few days. He didn't elaborate further when you expressed concern for his well-being due to his tendency to overwork himself and hyperfocus on the experiment he had going. So when you got back and made finally made your way down to his lab after putting your stuff down in your room, you were frankly startled to see Dottore with an IV line and heart monitor hooked up to him. Your shock quickly shifted to irritation as he was currently working while recovering from experimenting on himself, like a moron. Seriously, how could he be the smartest, stupidest, and stubbornest person you know.

"Doctor, while I am not fond of you experimenting on yourself. I'm even less fond of you doing things as labour intensive as... what *Are* you doing?" You look at his work table, taking in the sheer amount of datasheets spread out on his table.

"Making sure I was successful." He says gruffly he continues after a moment. "And I can tell you I was." You sigh both from frustration and relief. If he succeeded, then you didn't have to worry as much about whatever he did to himself. "Well, if you are sure you've succeeded, will you lay down and rest for me? You're obviously still recovering." He looks up and turns to look at you for a long moment. "Oh, Nightshade, I didn't even realize it was you. Since it's you asking, I suppose I'll indulge you. Though I assure you I'm perfectly fine."

You help him back to the "recovery" room. This was really just his office with a bed for him. Most of his experiments don't "Recover" persay. Once he's settled down on the bed, you pull up a chair and sit next to him.

"Do you want to tell me what you did? Or do I have to go read your experiment logs?" You ask your curiosity finally getting the better of you. "I suppose I *could* tell you, or have you read the logs. But I've got a better idea." He smirks. You tilt your head to the side, making a go on motion with your hand. He gestures to his desk where there's a gift wrapped box. You raise your eyebrows but go and take the present from his desk before returning to your seet meet to him.

"Is it for me?" You ask to clarify to which he nods, encouraging you to open it. You fail to see how a gift could explain what experiment he's run in himself this time, but it's Dottore, so it could really be anything. You open the box and find a jar settled amongst tissue paper. Upon removing it, you look at its contents carefully. It's a heart, a human heart, you've seen pleanty you know this is a human heart. It looks slightly malformed but healthy otherwise. It doesn't take you long to put two and two together. "Zandik? Is this..." He smiles it's rare you use his name, "It is. It was finally starting to annoy me with how weak it was. So I replaced it with a mechanical one." He reaches out and takes your cheek in his hand. "And what could be more... *romantic* than litteraly giving you my heart!" You could see a flicker of obssesive love in his eyes. "It's beautiful, I love it, *I love you.*"

You leaned forward and kissed him your forehead and nose leaning against his. "Get some rest. I'd like to be allowed to care for you while you recover." He smiles, showing sharp teeth and nods. As he lays down, he takes your hand before relaxing. You can tell that he is actually getting tired as he hasn't fully recovered, but you'll be there with him to help along the way.

[selfox]

Cy's live-ish reactions are coming back.

FINALLY! I pulled myself together and got to the end of Ungrateful (to this reaction will be later).

These are chapters from Make a Wish till the start of Ungrateful of Random Tales Of Drakgo by @gothicthundra

I had reaction ready for a while, but I really needed to restart it so it would keep me in momentum so it'll have practically 2 reactions - Initial and second one. So that's why I need more time to edit the Ungrateful ark reaction ^^"

Make a wish

Initial first read

Shegooooo omg. Xd nice save. Its so precious how you decided to cook for him Xd dr d you lil, I'll give you a noogie, your hints xd you are precious Guys your tension is palpable. OMG DRAKKEN YOU SMOOTH FUCKER, SMOOTH CRIMINAL. Ma'am... You 2 have been an epitome of UST Tvgggh itty bitty Drakken grow big and strong ...... Not like buffkken tho xD tho buffkken still deserves love Oh Shego, sweetheart...

Second reread

Shego, more like how much one person wants to keep their name out of press. I would have been surprised if it was mentioned. Overall it's all sus indeed.

Well considering what happened not just because of Botox, but you sharing with him very personal information AND whole your cat and mouse game with feelings

I love this subtlety. I can't call it anything else. Especially when it's others POV. After second read you immediately get what Drakken been keeping inside.

I need to understand how Drakken is even making money. Like.... I get stealing money or things to sell, but... Do they do that in enough quantity? Plus you need some steady income with henchmen, lairs and ... Stuff??

✨Realization✨

Ma'am, you've done the goof.

YES HE HAS BEEN.

This man is so traumatized over her disappearing on vacations.

And, Drak, I hate to bring it to you. You are just in love with her OTL Man... I want to hug him, poor blue man.

Shego, you would be surprised how many factors come into play regarding baking. So it's completely understandable. Cus you don't have enough practice.

And here I want to hug Shego, she is... I want to say tsundere, but it's just simple denial of everything. And this cupcake… when you make something yourself it hits different. And she knows it deep inside.

Smart ass Drakken xD

Every time I have the same reaction and it's audibly say: "Ough, about that"

Like I've said before those 2 are precious in their banter... It's so on edge of flirt, but much more meaningful. And the turn of events how that laser became her hoverboard. This warmth. I know they don't do that, but I envision them leaning to one another as if talking conspirationally. Have really soft almost whispering voices.

So close and yet so far. Once again smooth

What still gets me and practically hammers down is how it isn't said what his wish is, and yet you still get what he wants.

Working the Nerves

Initial first read

🤣🤣🤣 Daaaw roumd boi 🤣🤣🤣🤣 omg Shego Yep, I will be laughing all chapter OMG DREW YOU DIDN'T F SHEGO Ouch f hair .... Ok this is some unfortunate incidents, I'm sus Ok, this one on you Bonding :3 Dr d you are an addict DRAKKEN YOU MAD LAD STRONG LAD

Sugar rush and hyperfocus can do some things to a lad. Tho a silver lining to your love handles, Dr D, that it is comfier to cuddle.

I adore that back and forth banter, and to hear how they are at it for 3 days and, honestly, they can do it even longer given chance.

I am still curious what it is now.

You know, during the rewatch of the show, I hadn't realize how fricken much, Shego sits either unusually or plainly on a table/desk. She is just a feline.

She is a very black green tinted cat to herself. Is it Friday 13 of some sort? Did she break some mirror recently? Walked under the ladder??

Ok yeah I completely forgot this part that explains how they have money through stocks.

Gods, I get that funk that Drakken has. Low on inspo and on occasion motivation is hell.

Overall sometimes I think there should exist a skit with name "Adventures of Dr. Drakken and his ADHD brain"

Domestic

Shego, my lass, you do affect him, don't worry Daaaw XD Painting her nails, daaaww.... Wait is that a mirror of her and Pandora? I think I'm reading too much into it Jddjjdjdj KIM

I am still chuckling and those two are still children. Both of them. Rection above still stands XD

On painting toenails, I'm having a flashback to Shego and Pandora's past.

KIM OMG

Bad girl gone good

🤔🤔🤔 hmm I wondered how she was internally… “Shego, I need you” Hehe, someone in love~ and she finally understood it

What hits me how un-Shego these thoughts are, how the tone feels softer in a way.

"Dr. Drakken" - yeahhhh so very formal it feels weird thinking it's coming from Shego, but considering it's Miss Go.

Its the scrambled eggs of thoughts that gets me here with Miss Go laying in the guest bed. How they are going all over.

Heart is still the same, isn't it? And that concern that she has for him.

I love reading this moment of realization that she wants Drakken. Plain and simple. And wanted for a while. Where we are? chapter 83. Time runs fast.

Roller coaster

🤣 "villain royalty, how Disney" Ma'am Maaam You can't kill attraction by behaving like Helga Pataki Ough rough OYL Oh gods my heart ;-; partners Bdhdhdhd “I'm in trouble”, ma'am, you just fell in love

What in the hell happened there? (srsly, I am trying to place it at shows timeline and I'm in confusion, cus it feels like I should know what happened in this lair, I know that later moment will be Capt'n Drakken, but still )

Yep, being tsundere. And I give a point to Drakken for being perceptive.

heh, just the heat~

Famous last words

Shego, you need therapy.

I'm chuckling in my face palm, those 2 are perfect for one another. Ma'am, you are just the same.

Couples counselling, my guys. Those 2 are so stuck in that idea that their feelings are unrequired. And how their miscommunication keeps happening. My guys, you assume too much guah!

I have, had had and will have such an urge to shake her (and him) to get some sense into their heads.

The Chinese Food Of Peace.

*guttural groan of anguish cus of these 2 dumbasses*

Glad she finally finally realized and relaxed about it my GOD. All it took is one talk with your best friend/love and see how everything settled down???

Don't get me wrong I love this a lot, the warmth of their convo, the smiles and ALL OF THAT. Just they are dummies. I love them, but they are dummies. Squared even.

Thus see you all in Ungrateful.

[syn4k]

Hey I have a question for whenever y'all have the spoons to answer - you guys have chronic fatigue right? What can you do to not just straight up die? I don't have chronic fatigue as far as I'm aware but I've been ill A LOOT this past year and since then my energy levels seem to be permanently on sick mode. Got a better sleep schedule than I have in the past two years but harder time staying awake too. If you have any advice on how to avoid being so exhausted you're gonna pass out through halfway through the school day that would be appreciated, my grades are suffering </3

oh yeah

so our energy levels fluctuate but when referring to this chart-

but usually we hover around a 4 or 5. we tend to hyperfocus at school and blaze through all of our work and then get home, crash for an hour o so, and then be too tired to usually do any chores. the entire weekend is spent recharging.

there was a period of time where we had to use mobility aids to get around at school because our fatigue was just That Bad during the day. thankfully things are much better now that we have meds and now that we no longer have P.E (which was absolute and utter hell) but still we are never at full capacity energy wise. it's enough to take notes in classes and get our work done and then just coast for the rest of the day

generally, this is how we've been getting along lately:

our teachers are fine with us taking naps during class because we consistently get our work done and turned in by the time class is out

our teachers are also fine with us wearing headphones because it's written into our IEP (there are a couple of benefits to having an autism diagnosis).

we just kind of... seize the energy we do have to do things like laundry when we're home. candy is good for short bursts of energy. if nothing in the house is appetizing, grab yourself a protein bar or a glass of milk or something- it's better than nothing

somehow we got it embedded into our brain that part of our Daily Routine™️ is taking a shower nightly or else things get bad. on the rare occasion that we skip a night, we make up for it the next morning

group together tasks! if you need to go downstairs to do laundry or something then get yourself some ice water as well before headed back to your room. if you get the sudden urge to clean off a table or something, don't ignore it. just make sure you don't physically collapse in the middle of it

things have gotten way better ever since we've started taking our ADHD medication but the years before that were absolute hell so yeah, wishing you the best of luck anon <3 you'll learn your body's warning signs and limits soon enough and learn to work around them like we did. you'll be alright

[rook-specter]

Rook's Poker Night at the Inventory conversations Part 1

Badgerclops: Hey Clairen, you kinda remind me of Mao Mao if he was cooler. Don't tell him I said that. Clairen: Oh really? What's Mao Mao like? Badgerclops: Well first off, his full name is Mao Mao Mao, and- Kani: Seriously? And I thought having 4/5 of my team having the same surname Maki was crazy... Badgerclops: I think that's even crazier, actually. Anways, back to what I was saying. Clairen, you have a sword, you're a cat, and you're fighting evil. Except you're a lot cooler, and I don't care if I'm hurting Mao Mao's feelings by saying this. Clairen: Interesting...

Kani: Hey, Peppino? Peppino: What-a is it? Kani: You've dealt with sentient food, so can you tell me some of your stories? Peppino: I'm-a not-a sure about-a that one, crab lady. I guess-a there's this Cheeseslime named The Vigilante, and he's-a probably one of the only big-a threats I faced that I don't-a have beef with... Kani: Yeah, and you can get real angry like me... Except you're even more dangerous... Running through all those Cheeseslimes like crazy...

Badgerclops: Yo crab gal, do you ever realize that being the smallest one at the table, or ON the table, gives you a lot of disadvantages playing poker? Kani: Yeah, but I don't let that bother me. I'm a crab, I'm not gonna complain that it's hard to do something just because I'm small. Badgerclops: That's some dedication right there.

Peppino: YEEEOOOOWWWW!! Kani: What the?! Clairen: What's wrong, Peppino? Peppino: Nothing... I'm-a just reminded of... THE WAR. Kani: The war? Badgerclops: Oh boy... Peppino: Every few-a minutes, I'm-a reminded of the dark-a times of my life... where I served in the war... It-a brings me neverending pain... And the memories won't stop... Kani: That is some bleeped-up bleep, Peppino. Clairen: That's almost as bad as the dark future I come from... Peppino: NO, DON'T-A REMIND ME AGAIN!

Peppino: So, uh... How-a did you guys find-a the inventory? Kani: Tako found a poster for it while we were fighting the Legion of Low Tide. He decided that we go there on a Saturday night, but he was kicked out due to the mess he made with his ink. Clairen: Ayala mentioned it, so I was curious. Was it some kind of hideout for heroes, or was it Loxodont's secret lair? As it turns out, it's just a place to play poker and get drinks and snacks. Badgerclops: We just kinda stumbled upon it, and Adorabat got all excited when she saw it, and went, "Oooh, looks like a fantastically fun place!" and I was like, "Adorabat, you're not old enough to be in here! Aren't you five?" and then she was like, "Yeah, you've got a point." And then Mao Mao was like, "What's the point of this location?" and then I was like, "To have fun!" And then- Kani: Okay, this is gonna go on for a long time and make me crabby, so how about you cut it there. Badgerclops: Okay, fine. Jeez.

Badgerclops: So, uh... Peppino, do you think I could stop by your pizza place to get some pizza? Peppino: A-yeeesss! That would be-a fantastic! Clairen: Okay, but are your pizzas up to health code? Peppino: Uhhhhhh... Badgerclops: I couldn't care either way, pizza is pizza.

Badgerclops: Hey, crab gal. Why are your pincers on your head? Kani: Don't give me weird questions about my anatomy! Badgerclops: I'm sorry, that's just not... anatomically correct! That just makes you more of a cat... crab... Kani: Well, I do have the claws for it.

Peppino: Okie dokie, Clairen. You're the element of-a fire, and you wield a fire sword? Clairen: Yep. Peppino: Ain't plasma and fire the same-a thing? Kani: Not really. All fire is plasma, but not all plasma is fire. Like, a lightning bolt isn't fire, but it's still plasma. Badgerclops: Heh, so that just makes classifying plasma as fire even more dumb. Kani: Well, I wouldn't go that far. Clairen: Well, if you really want to see how my world works, then you just come to Aether yourselves.

Badgerclops: Seeing all these aces reminds me of my hyperfocus machine that makes edible playing cards. Kani: Wait, what? Badgerclops: I don't remember making it, but it exists! Do YOU have a hyperfocus mode, crab gal? Kani: If by a hyperfocus mode, you mean, "going crazy creating stuff and then forgetting the next day", kind of. Sometimes I have random bouts of creativity, so I create something like a paper shredder on wheels with a knife taped to it, and the others just get confused as to why I made them, and I do remember making them, I just don't remember WHY. Peppino: Did the knife paper shredder have-a sentience? Kani: I wouldn't call it sentience, more like... a drive of chaos. Clairen: You two make some... really crazy stuff.

Kani: Hey, Badgerclops? Badgerclops: Yeah? Kani: Why do you call me crab gal? You know my name. You know it's Kani. Badgerclops: I dunno, that's just the name I default to. Don't you ever have one of those moments? Kani: Ikura certainly has those moments. Badgerclops: Are you and your friends literally just... sentient sea creatures? Kani: Not all of them, Wasabi's a mound of spicy mustard. Peppino: Hit-a that shit with a net. Kani: ...What???

[inhumanheresy]

UHHHHHHHHHH. why do you like childe sm / what made u wanna delve into all his lore : 3 ?

||ooc|| — Oh man, I apologise cause I think this is an answer you're going to be disappointed by, but it's honestly just 'vibes'.

I'm the sort of person that's always going to be drawn into the lore and motivations of a character if they interest me. I love delving into the why and how of a character, from the mundane to the fantastical. Yeah, I'm not the nitty-grittiest of lore nerds, but after a point you really hit diminishing returns, y'know? Sometimes you simply have to feel a character.

I love knowing about characters but there's not many that I vibe with to the level of being able to muse them. I'm also terribly one-track-minded, so I simply can't juggle lots of muses; I tend to hyperfocus on one to the detriment of others, so I have to vibe deeply with a character if they're going to be a focus point strong enough to draw me away from any one or another.

Once upon a time, I thought I had a certain visual common denominator, but it turns out that the real common denominator(s) of my muses is something along the lines of 'loyalty+viciousness', 'Will Fucking Flip The Table On You With A Perfectly Straight Face', 'Repression of Personal Feelings In Some Way Or Another', and 'Not Exactly What They Seem'.

If that sounds like Tartag to you that's because yeah. He fits.

It's all about the Vibes.

[floatingonalowvibe]

chapter six, part two

The north pole. always bright, colorful, and full of energy.

the sleigh was being lowered into the stalls, and the smell of the workshop filled my nose. a smile grew on my face.

once we hit the floor, I was dashing out of the sleigh, bouncing up and down like an exited child.

I could hear the chatter of the elves as they worked, the sounds of hammers and drills whirring away.

I was walking through the entrance of the workshop, taking in the sights, it has been forever since I was here last, but it felt the same, the comforting smells and sounds filled my senses. A few familiar faces popped out at me, a few old friends.

“m/n!!”

The voice stopped my viewing of the workshop, as I turned my head to see who it was. The exited voice I heard belonged to none other than Judy, the one and only.

I quickly did a little gay boy run over to her, engulfing her into a hug.

She returned it with just as much energy as I put into mine, and maybe even putting in more.

“Oh my god.... it's been so long!!” I said, releasing the hug but holding her shoulders.

“It has, too long even!” she responded. We brought each other into another hug,

“Well, I hope you guys get to make up for lost time while m/n stays here." dad spoke from behind us, " I've got to go check on a few things, you and Judy go find Bernard, I'm sure he'll be glad to see you ." he finished with a wink, he was off, probably to his office.

Judy grabbed my hand, leading me towards where I believe to be the bakery. she walked with such a hurry, making me suspect she had to tell me something.

we entered the bakery, the smell and warmth filling my senses. the elves just got done with a batch of something cinnamon flavored, as the smell was strong.

"what do you need to tell me?" I asked as we stepped in her office, me closing the door behind her.

she turned around, a smile growing on her face. It was a mischievous smile, like she had a big silly secret to tell me.

"Ok but first I wanna tell you to not act weird when I tell you this, and don't tell anyone you heard this from me, ok?" she said.

I was more intrigued than ever at this moment, wanting to know what she had to say so bad. was it elf drama? was it something about my dad?

"well, spill the beans!" I said, moving closer to her, anticipation raising in me.

" well, " she started " Bernard has been going absolutely bonkers about you visiting, like he wont stop talking about you to me on our breaks! "

I felt my cheeks begin to redden at the thought of him talking about me, and even so him being exited to see me. a small weak smile started to form on my face, soon taking over it.

"Oh my snowflakes are you blushing??!!" I heard her exclaim.

I stopped all movement for a second, and I realised, I really was blushing. I was blushing over Bernard. Him.

I started stuttering, mentlally cursing myself for not being able to form words.

"hey, it's ok, he just been really stressed, and I bet you're the thing that's going to bring him out of his gloomy mood." she said, her voice soft and mother-like.

I nodded, not wanting to say anything.

Why in the world did I react that way? why did my face feel that hot? why couldn't I speak? why does the thought of Bernard, of all people, missing me make my head spin? do I like him?

No, I know I don't. Ive already told myself that having that type of relationship with Bernard is off the table, and besides, he's an elf! who's who knows how old! and I'm just an average 19 year old boy, freshly dropped out of college and always high. he would never lower his standards to be with someone like me.

a/n: so the new posting schedule will be about every 1-2 weeks. I am going to be starting another story (Eddie munson) soon so I might hyperfocus on that for a while and forget about this one for a few days. anyways drink some water.

[dourpeep]

you asked for albedo stuff yesterday and i forgot to give you some 🥲 here

-Albedo bites the ends of his pencil/pen while in deep thought

-He covers his mouth while laughing

-His hair is a huge problem to becoming messy so he usually keeps it in one style bc he sucks at styling hair

-I believe he would hyperfocus on a meal until he starts to hate it and goes onto another

-Probably sleeps on his back or stomach

-Quietly sings to himself when he's alone doing experiments

-his hands are probably soft as hell

-he probably bounces his leg when stressed

-I cant decide whether or not he's always cold or always hot (wearing his jacket everywhere but seems fine at dragonspine??)

-would break klee out of jail

-he always tries to have at least one meal with klee

WAIT SHIT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS--

definitely a pleasant surprise nodnod always a treat to have more Albedo, thank you for the food, Chi OTL

I'll write a little about each one b/c I have no self control and I'm feeling inspired by ur headcanons so lets goooooo ehehehe

They'll be a mix between imagines and drabbles!

Enjoy the food :3c

Contains: Albedo x gn!Reader, some standalone Albedo, Klee, fluff

-

- Breaking Habits -

"Albedo? You're doing it again-"

He blinks, shifting to remove the tip of his pencil from his lips, frowning when little indents come into view.

"Hm...it appears to be so."

Really, the Chief Alchemist has tried to wean himself off the habit, taking to coating the butt ends of his writing utensils with a horrid concoction of qingxin and jueyun chili, but the moment he slips into his usual daily tasks, it arises once more. The bitter spiciness is a taste that he still has not forgotten.

When his brows crease and his gaze seems to burn into the pencil, you offer a smile. With a kiss pressed to his temple, you take it from his loose grasp, setting it down on the table's surface.

A few weeks later, it dawns on him that the touch of wood to his lips evokes the memory of your gentle reminder. Without fail, he sets his pencil down in search of a sweet to busy himself with instead.

- His Laugh -

I can just imagine him with his hand lifted to cover his mouth, a smile tugging at his lips and his eyes slightly squinted. It's something that'd happen almost instantaneously--he doesn't intend to hide his smile but for some reason he can't help but do it.

An endearing habit that you've come to look for.

Regardless-

If you lower his hand and pepper him with a few little kisses, you'll get another giggle out of him before a kiss.

- Hairstyles -

Albedo only knows two ways to do hair: Klee's twin pigtails and his own half-up braid.

Over the past three years of his residency in Mond, it's become a sort of trademark. The assumption that it's just how he likes to style his hair has long since been accepted as truth--and really, he does prefer the style.

Though...

"Mr Albedo? Perhaps you should try to tie it all up instead...?"

The stray wisps of bangs that escape from the securely tied braid fall into his face and distract him from the task at hand. There's also the ever-present tickle right where the blond locks fall around his jaw. Surely, this shouldn't prove to be a problem considering he always has this style...right?

Needless to say, the smell of singed hair makes him choke and the Alchemist finds himself pulling away to tie his hair properly.

It's simple.

Or at least that's what he has been stuck repeating like a mantra as he stares at his reflection, unhappy with the way there's a strange bit of hair that refuses to stay tied. Sighing, he undoes his pony tail and tries again.

Hm.

No, now it's lopsided...certainly can't have that.

- Mealtime -

First, two little ears peek up above the surface of the counter besides him. Then, two little eyes belonging to a stuff rabbit toy followed by a red hat--

"Klee?"

The little girl stares at the fish steaks sizzling away on the pan, displeasure on her features despite the incredibly enticing smell. With unmatched resolve, she huffs.

"Big brother, Klee doesn't want fish again-"

Ah, right.

He's been in another of those moods, the particular taste and texture of the fish mingling with the salted butter, simple sauce, and lightly seasoned veggies sounding so much more appealing compared to nearly any other dish he's tried to enjoy in the past two weeks. It's without a doubt Albedo's all-time favorite dish. Perfect for someone with a small appetite and a need for something quick, filling, and nutritious.

"What would you like then?"

Ultimately (and truly, Albedo wasn't surprise), the little knight requested a serving of 'Fishy Toast'. Cutting up one of the fillets he'd fried, he laughs and shakes his head.

- Sleep Time -

When you come home, it's already dark, the streetlamps lining the cobbled road illuminating the front door as you fish out your key.

"Albedo? I'm back-"

Soft snoring punctuates the silence.

With a fond smile, you remove your shoes and make your way to the make-shift 'sleep station' set up on the couch. Sure enough, with his face shoved at an awkward angle against a pillow, Albedo lays on his stomach holding a second pillow to his chest.

As much as you'd rather not wake him (after all, he's barely gotten sleep over the past few days with how busy it's been), you kneel besides the couch to gently shake him awake.

"Bedo? Bedo, lets go to bed-"

He shoves his face further into his pillow, muttering something about waiting for results. But the silence that follows only lasts so long until he sighs and opens his bleary eyes.

"Welcome home," he mumbles, carefully shuffling best he can closer to meet your lips.

With a stretch and sigh, he sits up. Blond hair sticks up from the top of his head and to his cheek, some parts tangled despite his attempts to prevent it--your hair shouldn't tangle if you sleep on your stomach, right?

Holding back your laugh, you help him up so that the two of you can get ready to sleep.

- Singing -

Most often if not nearly each day, if you pass by the Favonius HQ's workshop, you might catch the soft sound of singing. A light sound that drifts from the partly-cracked door echoes into the empty hallway. Regardless of the traffic outside, it shows no sign of stopping, so you easily can sit right outside and listen.

It's not shy, though, even as the man's dulcet tone comes out gently, and there are days that the lyrics that slip from his tongue are of other regions.

Perhaps if you ever approach the Chief Alchemist, you might be able to convince him to sing just a short little tune. He'll oblige, though a soft dusting of pink will cover his cheeks as he does.

- Hands -

"My hands?"

Albedo watches as you tug off his gloves, head cocked to the side curiously. The moment his hands are free from their confines, you press a kiss to his palm and intertwine your fingers.

"Do you use lotion or something?"

He laughs.

"...Not that I am aware of...?"

When you squeeze his hand once, he squeezes yours back three times before bringing your joined hand to his cheek. Resting against them, his eyes close.

"Why do you ask?"

He feels you take his other hand as well, turning it over palm-side up, your fingertips tracing over the lines that adorn it's surface.

The tenderness of your touch is enough to make his heart stutter in his chest.

"Mmm...no reason."

- Leg Bouncing -

Whenever Albedo bounces his leg sitting at the Dragonspine workshop, a curse or two will slip out the moment his knee bangs against the wood.

Even being considered short, the table has decided to lay just low enough for him to cause minor injury to himself.

Shaking his head, he rubs at his knee to rid himself of the dull ache before continuing his observations at hand.

- His Jacket -

Wait okay but like...what if he actually has different versions of the same jacket? They look virtually the same but there's some of lighter material for warmer days, 'standard' ones for day-to-day use, and heavier ones lined with warm, soft fabric to insulate heat when he's on Dragonspine.

Same with his tights. I do know for a fact that there are tights lined with fleece that are incredibly warm and comfortable!!

- Escapees -

"You need to be very quiet, alright?"

Once more in the dark of the night, Albedo finds himself awake within the walls of the Favonius Headquarters.

Now...Klee technically wasn't grounded, so technically escorting her out of the so called 'solitary confinement' wasn't against any rule. To be fair, the room itself also wasn't really that either, judging by the child-themed decor, soft bed, books littering the floor, and the little table that sits just off to the opposite side of the room.

So! Albedo was certain that there wasn't any harm in what he was doing.

Not that he wasn't still sneaking around on his little improvised rescue mission.

He looks back to Klee, the little girl now wide awake and hanging on to his hand tightly.

When the morning comes, he sighs, crouched sitting on one of the child-sized chairs in the solitary confinement room, Klee peacefully snoozing in bed.

If only Jean wasn't pulling an all-nighter last night as well.

- Very Early Breakfasts -

Klee wakes up to the smell of sweet berry jam and chocolate in the air.

Clumsily, she slips out from under the covers with Dodoco cradled in her arms, padding along the wooden floors on her way to the kitchen.

"Big brother...?" She rubs the sleep from her eyes waiting for him to turn around.

"Oh, good morning Klee-"

"What time is it?"

That, Albedo decided, was a very good question. Especially considering that he hadn't yet gone to sleep and instead shuffled through the kitchen in the early hours of the day to make pancakes. If he had to guess--and he took a quick peek out the window despite the darkness of the early morning lending no clue--he'd say it was nearing 4am.

"Early. Go ahead and sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

The plate is presented to her with a brilliant smile, the Chief Alchemist satisfied to be able to keep his promise with her to always share a meal. But...the fluffy pancakes and freshly made whipped cream were also a source of his brightened mood.

Even though he knew he'd have no time to sleep and pack for his next Dragonspine expedition, the lack of sleep was worth seeing the sudden widening of eyes and delighted giggle from his younger sibling.

He could always take a quick nap at the base camp, anyway.

[akvtsuki-ari]

Be Mean

Warnings: smut, femdom, degradation, sub!spencer, mild masochism, choking, generally mean shit lol 

Length: 5.3k (ik) 

Authors Note: uhh happy valentines day! not the fic anyone was expecting today and extremely self indulgent but valentines day is about self love too right? lmfao anyways, hope yall enjoy

Summary: Spencer was just a little too into the way you cuss people out and it was starting to weigh on him. You’re more than happy to help him out. 

Words were falling from your lips with grace. Your back was straight as you leaned into the table - the unsub just inches away. He was a narcissist, and his hatred for strong women became increasingly clear the moment you stepped into the room. He wanted to prove he was smarter, tougher, and better than you - but the challenge you reproached him with left his knuckles white. Teeth gritted, jaw clenched, and that same grace - analyzing and cold, never seemed to escape you. 

It didn’t take long for the arrest to fall through - his confession leaving him as he tried to express his pathetic anger towards you. He called you names but nothing creative, not as smart as he seemed to be but you couldn’t help but laugh at him. Soon after he delves into explaining his own genius and the pieces continued to fall together - it was a good case and luckily he didn’t get far after his first 3 victims. Not something that the BAU gets lucky with very often, you think. 

Spencer watched you in the interrogation - eyes fading over your body language carefully. You were unnervingly confident - always were no matter whether it was a killer or not. He took notice of many little things that seemed to make the details of your existence culminate further in his mind. You licked the inside of your lip when you were getting close to breaking the unsub, and your eyes would get a little lower when he started to speak. You rolled your shoulders when you watched him get escorted and that warm, sweet version of you returned to you with no trouble at all. 

It was easy for people to call you BAU’s resident sweetheart. You were charming, witty, and intelligent but also kind. When the team needed someone who people can trust, you were always up there on the list. Your skills of diffusion were particularly helpful, you worked homeland security for a long while and it showed. Your capabilities to ease a tense moment as well as interrogate a criminal in a provocative way has proved helpful time and time again - but who you were was always up in the air. It was a valuable trait to be mysterious in that sense. 

On one hand, Spencer really did like plain Y/N more than anything. You were always particularly kind to Spencer - you remembered his birthday and always texted him right at 12 beating the entire BAU, even Garcia. You brought him soup and cold medicine when he was sick because you were close by and he needed some company. You helped him babysit JJ’s kids because you could and you were fond of them. You were never too impatient and you let him work in silence rather than making commentary about his process. You just got him, and it all seemed to come naturally though you knew things someone could only figure out through careful observation. 

Y/N the Agent was different, though. Still you, when she needed to be. Any cases involving young children, or innocent people in general really showed the other side of you. But you had this moment in every case, where your hyperfocus became so sinister everyone in the department could feel it. They were different sides of the same coin, your traits manifesting themselves in different ways but Spencer had a very particular notice of it. For one, it fascinated him a lot. How could anyone not be fascinated by that? 

Of course though, that wasn’t the only reason but the other half of this whole spiel was a lot more embarrassing but - 

Spencer got unbelievably turned on when he watched you interrogate criminals and - listen he knows okay? He really understands how absolutely not good that is but the memory is so burned into his brain he can’t help but think about it every time it comes up. 

The team was in Arizona working on ritualistic killings from a small tribe, native to the area. You and Reid had been assigned to talk to important community members and there was a head elder dude there who was particularly scummy - though not the unsub. He was too cocky to pull off such elaborate and patient murders so he was ruled out early but he was hiding something and you needed to know what it was. When interrogations went on, you confronted the man about his use of testosterone injections - something forbidden in the community since they believed modern medicine was extremely harmful, part of the killers M.O. 

The conversation between the two of you was short-lived but memorable, to say the least. 

“What happened, elder? Were the village girls not working for you anymore so you sicked your friend on them cause you couldn’t get it up? Was it worth it?,” your voice was thick with distaste and the elder lost his shit. He ended up confessing that he had a strong hunch but he’d only tell if they kept his secret and the lead was correct. 

Spencer's mind hasn’t been able to let go of that moment and every single time a case comes up where you have to confront someone he finds himself having to relieve himself in a bathroom stall or strain himself to get it to just go away. It was killing him really. He had a crush on you sure, always has but his body reacting like he was a 16-year-old boy every time you spoke was not going to cut it but he didn’t know what to do either. 

He finds himself in that same position now, on the plane ride home with the thought of you and your demeanor keeping him from focusing. You were asleep across from him, wearing comfortable clothes that slid just over your shoulders. He couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on his skin and he tried his absolute best to ignore and go to sleep.

_

When Spencer Reid arrived home, he was pleasantly surprised to see messages from you, asking to hangout in his apartment while your kitchen gets renovated. There was no way in hell he was gonna say no to that, so he tidied his things up and ordered thai food while he waited for your arrival. 

It didn’t take long for you to show, wearing black joggers and a tight tanktop that Spencer has never seen you in before. It looked good on you, accentuating the strength in your shoulders in back. He knew you were decently fit but this was surprising, even for him. You smiled wide as you stepped through the door, giving Spencer a tight hug. He can feel your boobs pressed up against his chest and he wants to kick himself for the shiver that runs off his spine as if he were a teenager again. 

“Hey, Spence. Thanks again for letting me come over today, hope I’m not intruding,” you say softly, as you settle down on Spencer's couch, phone in hand. He nods, smiling. 

“It’s no problem. The food should be here in a minute but do you want a glass of water or anything in the meantime? I also have some lemonade, if you want that,” Spencer offers. You readjust and Spencer watches the way your muscles tense. He shouldn’t be noticing something like that yet here he is. 

“Lemonade sounds great, thanks Spence,” you say, laying into the couch as you scroll through your phone. Spencer excuses himself to the kitchen, grabbing glasses from his cupboard and filling them up with lemonade before returning to you. He places the glasses on the table in front of you, before the sound of the doorbell alerts him. 

You get up, retying your hair as the smell of Thai food hits you. You let out an involuntary moan but Spencer just laughs. The food is set up in front of you, but its far too hot for either of you to eat so the both of you sip on your lemonade and chat instead. 

“Everytime we get a few days off, the paranoia of a case hits the ground running,” you complain, gently. Spencer laughs, nodding his head. 

“Oh definitely. I can’t imagine what it’s like not thinking about it all the time, though,” he explains. You nod your head in agreement. 

“Yeah, but time off is still time off so the plan is to spend the weekend alone with a glass of wine and some romantic films and relax,” you explain, sighing. Spencer looks at you curiously. 

“Didn’t take you for the romance type,” he states curiously. You sigh again, looking at him.

“I’m not for the most part, it kinda serves a different purpose for me than most women I’d argue,” you reply to him. Spencers intrigued by your comment and sits up a bit. 

“How so?,” he poses carefully. You place your lemonade down on the coffee table and scratch the back of your neck.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like being wined-and-dined like any woman. Romance itself is nice, love is wonderful - but the way I wanna be romanced isn’t exactly traditional,” your voice is airy when you speak, laughing at yourself but the revelation maes Spencers weak.

“Traditional?,” he manages to squeak out. You notice his shift in behavior, and you slow down for a moment. 

“We don’t have to talk about that kinda stuff, Spence. It’s more of a girls night thing I’d talk about with Garcia and JJ - though they already know about most of it,” you say lightly. Spencer chokes a bit as you continue to reveal details. 

“No, it's not that. I’m… interested?,” he says nervously, chewing the inside of his lip. You tilt your head, surprised by his curiosity. 

“Didn’t take you for a freak, pretty boy,” you comment, giggling. Spencer's face turns hot, but you reassure him you’re only kidding. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t really care for the whole subservient role, especially not in bed. I enjoy seeing someone do what I say, and having things go my way. I’ve always been like that, figured that out with my first highschool boyfriend, hah,” you say, sipping your lemonade. 

Spencer swallows at the realization that you’re probably experienced, very experienced in that department. He shifts in his set again and your eyes settle on him for a moment, neither of you making eye contact but rather observing each other

“I don’t know how to explain it all that well, but I like it when I can be just a little mean, you know,” you say, smiling. Your tone is joking but your words have weight to them. Spencer's throat is closing up as you speak but he smiles back at you fondly. You take notice but hold yourself back. 

“You sure you’re okay, Spencer?,” your voice is different this time. Knowing. Spencer's eyes flutter over to you and he’s aware rather suddenly of your being. The way your chest rises and falls as you speak, the smoothness of your lips around the glass, the way your hair falls over your face. He nods as you observe him. Your lips twitch up into a smile. 

“Spencer, could it be resident boy genius is a sub?,” you say incredulous. Spencers whole face flushes and you find your clit up at attention at the non-verbal confession. 

While he may be oblivious to it, you had a rather massive crush on Spencer. Something about his intelligence was remarkably sexy to you and knowing he was also a good person didn’t make the feelings any easier. Who could blame you for having a crush on Spencer, anway? Most people did - it was part of the reason you never told him. Based on his personality and dating history - it didn’t really seem like you were his type. You weren’t massively intelligent or particularly unique (at least you didn’t think so) so you couldn’t imagine Spencer having a crush on you. You were great, but you didn’t think you were Spencers type, thats all. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking about him - really the opposite. Every waking moment you’d catch him doing something absentmindedly you cute - your brain begged to see him fucked out and sleepy. He’d ramble about something for so many minutes and all you wanted to do was sit on his face and shut him up (and then let him continue because he was honest to god so cute like that)

The point was that Spencer really did something to you. You had countless lingering thoughts about him but to know that this was actually something he was into made your head spin. You couldn’t hold your expression back and maybe it was your own masochism that made you want to know more but god did you want to know more.

“How long have you known about yourself, Spence?” you interrogate. Spencer swallows and prays to every deity his mind can manage as he looks at you pleadingly but you can’t recognize what the pleading is really for. 

“How long have you been on the team?,” Spencer speaks before he can really understand the weight of his words, and the second he says the whole room stops. You look at him with delighted surprise and he shuts his eyes at contempt for his own existence. 

“No fucking way,” you can’t help the little inhale you do at the realization. Pure excitement just emanating from your being like nobody's business. You were genuinely going to lose your mind at this revelation. Spencer Reid discovered that hes a sub because of you? Were you dreaming?

If this wasn’t Spencer's apartment he would’ve run away. He just had to look at you instead and face the fact he just revealed his own sins. Your laugh at Spencer revelation made the little nagging voice in Spencers head just a little louder and that meant that - 

“You’re really into whatever you’ve been thinking of huh?,” you say, eyeing the hard-on in his pants casually. Spencer looks down and places a pillow on his lap, wishing to throw his entire existence into a fire and to never ever look back. 

“Shit,” he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s at total wits end with himself and is forced to deal with the repercussions of his horniness. 

On the other hand there was you, eyes full of delight as your mind raced with all the thoughts of what Spencer could be thinking about. Anything was good really, any level of him giving up his control to you was good. It all worked for you but whatever he’d been thinking about specifically had you itching to know. 

“What could it be? I mean - seriously, I have to know what has the beloved Doctor this flustered. You have to tell me,” you say smiling. Spencer just shakes his head. 

“Aww c'mon, do you want me to start guessing?,” you joke. Spencer looks at you that time and you realize that might be key. You look at him in surprise. 

“Okay, well let’s think. It started when we worked together which means it was probably when we were in the field,” you start profiling Spencer, which on one hand he’s not a fan of but on another he’s a little turned on by. 

You chew on your lip as you think for a minute. 

“The work I do on the field sorta depends, but mostly I diffuse situations,” you say softly, really to only yourself. “But also, I do a lot of interrogations, and with the way you reacted to that whole being mean thing, I’m gonna go ahead and place my bets on that,” you conclude. You look to Spencer for approval and his eyes are hazy as he nods a yes. 

You place your glass on the table, and move in front of Spencer. Normally your height isn’t all too important to him but right now your being towers over him and all he can do is look up at you. You wish you had the patience to do a little bit more teasing but you couldn’t hold back too much. Your knee is between his legs as you bend it and lean over him. Your fingers brush his hair back for a moment as you use your knuckle to pull his face up. He wants to refuse but he can’t so he lets you - looking at you tenderly. He’s cute like this. 

“Spence, you know I actually like you right?,” 

“No,” 

You laugh lazily. Your hands on the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheek as you look at him adoringly. 

“I like you a whole lot, probably a lot more than like - actually. So whatever we do after this - if you want to do something anyways, it’s because I actually like you,” you say softly. Spencer nods, blush staining his cheeks. 

“I - uh, like you too,” he says warmly. You chew your lip. 

“Can I kiss you, Spencer?,” the way you ask makes Spencer's heart melt. This was you, all at once. No sides of any coins, still kind and warm and thoughtful, but still mean and intimidating in the way Spencer likes. He wants to scream yes, but he nods instead. 

You brush your lips over his for a second, smiling as he moves forwards to gain some contact. You don’t hesitate to kiss him forreal that time, lips pressed to his as your hand lays at the base of his necks, fingers pressing into his throat as he sighs. Your lips are warm, your touch is soft and Spencer could cry with how gentle you treat him. You pull away and brush your nose against his. 

“For someone who kisses like that, I’m surprised you’re so into the idea of being degraded,” you chuckle. Spencer coughs and just looks at you shyly. 

“Yeah, I really am,” his voice is hoarse.

You straddle yourself in Spencers lap and move the pillow. All the sudden contact makes his skin flush and he looks at you needy. Your pants are loose but your tank top is tight, and he finds his eyes looking at your chest before he can think about it. You roll your eyes at him, leaning into his neck to press a kiss on it. He whimpers and you smile - he really is desperate.

“Perv,” you murmur to him.He laughs. 

“Can’t say you’re wrong,” 

“Before we go any further, I wanna give you a safe word. I wouldn’t normally be doing something like this the first time for the purposes of semantics but I want you too badly to wait that long. I want to make sure it doesn’t get to be too much for you, in a bad way at least,” you say softly. Spencer looks at you and kisses you, and you laugh. 

“We can do Red for Stop, Yellow for Slow Down, and Green for Go,” you explain warmly. He nods. 

“Okay,” he says it back to you as he buries his face in your neck. You pet his hair and place a kiss on his head. 

“Tell me what you want, angel,” you say first. Your voice is smooth like silk, the word angel rings out in his mind. It’s too pretty for what he wants you to do and maybe that's why he likes it so much. The juxtaposition to be something so pretty when all he wants you to do is ruin him. 

He wants so much all at once he has trouble verbalizing any of it. It’d come out so incoherent even if he tried but he wants it, whatever the case may be. He feels your hands on his chest while you stare him down. He makes eye-contact and when he tries to look down again your hands force his chin up. 

“Gotta look at me when you say it, baby. Otherwise, I won’t know who you’re talking too,” you say thoughtfully. Fuck - thats hot. Spencer swallows and nods, looking into your eyes as his mind racks itself with possibilities. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he can’t believe how it sounds. He has so much more that he wants - he wants to fuck you while you absolutely take away his ability to cum. He wants to hear your voice when you talk down to him about it - about how hard he is when you get like this, and about how dirty he must really be. He wants to hear you threaten him with the possibility of being blue-balled hanging over his head. He wants you to be so fucking mean to him because he knows it doesn’t matter - he knows all the choice is yours and he really does love to please you and he knows he’s quite the masochist for it. He doesn’t care. 

“I think you wanna do a little bit more than fuck me, Spence,” you giggle. Your eyes turn a shade darker as your hand moves to his throat. His hands are planted to his sides as your grip tightens around his neck - voice cold as you whisper into his ear. 

“I think you want me to fuck you instead, yeah? Watch your teeth sink into your lips while I sit on your dick and make fun of you for how easy you twitch when I move. You’re so easy, Spencer,” the words leave your mouth and spill like wine. The words stain his whole mind with lust - absolutely aching to hear more. Fuck did he want that. 

“Take your shirt off,” you don’t ask. He does so without warning and his eyes beg you do the same. 

“I’ll take mine off when you’ve earned it, unzip your pants,” you reply nonchalant. He holds back a whimper and does so, his cock stiff against his boxer-briefs. You stand up and slide your pants off and your wearing boy-shorts, making Spencer sigh. 

He looks up at you pleadingly, and you smile at him. You walk up to him again and smile, as he looks up at you. You let him lay his head on your stomach as he looks at you, your fingers tucked into his curls. 

You tug them as you force him to look up at you. He groans from his throat as your other hand is placed on the side of his face. His eyes are weary as he looks at you. Your hands threaten to place a hit on him. 

“You should get all that begging under control before there's a handmark on that pretty face of yours love,” you say softly. He looks at you with challenge.

“I don’t think I can, miss,” he says softly. You want to kiss him but you refrain. 

“Color?,”

“Green” 

You lift your hand and place a firm hit on Spencer's cheek. He relishes in the pain, the demand your fingers have in them. You command respect and he knew it deep in him. He groans at the feeling.

“Didn’t take you for the type,” your commentary is sly like Spencer likes it. It’s mean in a witty way, not degrading just to do it. It fits perfect with your demeanor and Spencer adores it. 

You grab a stool from near one of Spencer bookshelves and place it between his legs. You’ve picked up tie from the ground while you sit yourself in front of him

“Stand up and turn around, and put your hands together behind your back,” you say, voice laced with faux boredom. Spencer does as told as you tie his hands together. You stare at him like that, taking note at his figure. He’s slim and it’s cute to you. 

You pull his boxers down and spit into your hand, reaching around to wrap your hands around his cock. He hisses at the feeling, finding his hips rutting into them. He was so desperate for it. 

“There's so much to do with you, I don’t even know where to start,” you sigh. Spencers mind races as your hand moves across him, wrapping around his length tight and letting your thumb run over his slit - just so you could feel how it twitched. 

“I could make you cum like this, facing away from me - too focused on being degraded to care. You’d still get off on that wouldn’t you, angel?,” you say warmly. You stand up and place your hands under his chin. He looks down at it. 

“Spit,” 

He does as told. You drip it across his length and he shivers as you take him back into your pals, fingers curled tightly around his base while your other hand plays with his nipples. Your thumbs flick across them carefully and he whimpers, knees nearly folding at the sensation of pleasure. 

“You don’t seem like one for visuals but maybe it’d be more fun for me if I fucked myself in front you with your hands behind your back. All of what would be on your dick, slick on my fingers instead. If I were nice, I’d let you taste me,” you muse. Spencer throws his head back at your words. 

“Or maybe that type of torture isn’t your cup of tea. What’d you prefer Spencer? You cum so many times you nearly pass out from all the pleasure? At the end of all that, you’d have been so ruined that you’d have nothing to show for it when you came. Your whole body aching pleasure but with nothing left to give,” your thoughts come to you in phases but to Spencer the sound like holy scripture. Dry orgasms sound painful but Spencer was certainly intrigued. 

“I wonder if you’d cry for me, baby. When your dick gets all red and sensitive and it hurts, would I have to wipe the tears off your pretty face? Sounds nice,” your voice is light and makes Spencer want to smile. He didn’t take you for that much of a sadist but he finds himself pleasantly surprised by the revelation

Your grip on his shaft tightens rather suddenly and Spencer whimpers. His voice is shaky, bare chest rising and falling at the feeling of your hands gripped around him. 

“Fuck, please,” Spencer begs you to ease up but he doesn’t really want you too. You sigh, placing a kiss on his back. 

“Please, what? You want me to stop?,” you ask, knowing damn well that it was the opposite. He shakes his head. 

“Please let me fuck you, please,” the need in Spencer's voice was rather nice. You pull your hand off and tell Spencer to lay down on the couch. He does so without question but aches with how much he misses your touch. He moved against his restraints to try and get some friction but no luck.

He watches you as you pull down your underwear, giving him a view to how wet you are. A slick spot just sitting between your thighs, pretty as can be. Spencer's throat is dry, the urge to touch you sending his mind into agony. 

“You talk too much,” your actions speak louder than words as you position yourself over Spencer's face. His neck cranes up to get a taste of you, tongue flatly along your slit trying to get some friction. You groan at the feeling, as Spencer laps at you. Flicking his tongue back and forth along your clit, curling around before sucking it into his mouth for a few seconds at a time. 

“Jesus, Spencer,” you moan out to him, finger gripping in his hair. He wished he could verbalize how grateful he was, but he tried his best to show it instead. He could do this all day if you let him, and if his hands were free he’d wrap them tightly around your hips so you’d lean more weight on him. You could break his neck, honestly. It wouldn't matter to him, the way you had him feeling. 

You grind your hips, rutting against Spencer's tongue as you ride yourself closer to orgasm. The sound of you getting off mixed with the taste of you on his tongue made Spencer feel like he was living off of you and he didn’t mind. You were so good to him. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” is the last words you say before you cum all over Spencer face. Riding your orgasm out, you move and look down at Spencer, face flush. He smiles at you, absolutely ecstatic and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I’ll untie you now, you did so good for me baby,” you praise softly, untying Spencer's hands. The first thing he does is sit up and wrap his arms around your waist. He places kisses along your naval as you pet his hair. He looks up at you, your orgasm still clear on his face. You cup his jaw and kiss him, just a little messy. 

“You're soft, baby,” you note. He nods, seeming sleepy already and you wanna coo at him. He looks up at you again and shakes his head. 

“Be mean to me, please,” his voice is shaky. You’re surprised, leaning down to give him a kiss on the forehead before you agree. 

“Sit back,” you demand. He does so without question as you straddle his lap. He can feel his tip brushing back and forth between your folds as you look at him adoringly, face full of affection mixed with an urge to give him what he’s so kindly asked for. 

You wrap your hands around his neck as you sink down on Spencer cock. It stretches you out slowly, wrapped tightly around Spencer. He hits your cervix with ease. His breathing is labored, his hand holding your wrist as you choke him. 

“Look at you, my love. I’m taking your breath away, and you're giving it up to me just like that? You want me to wreck you that badly huh? I didn’t take your for such a slut,” you utter that last word with false confidence but the way Spencer adores every second of it gives you real confidence instead. He could cum right then and there - hearing you call him a slut makes him feel something rather unexpected. It’s an ultimate powerplay, because the both of you know that right now he’s only giving it up for you, but it implies something so much greater. He likes it so much, likes the sound of bombarding him with pleasure and degradation that when he moans, voice strained as the column of his neck gets squeezed - he doesn’t really know how to stop himself from saying again. 

“You like being a slut for me baby?,” you ask, bouncing up and down on Spencer cock, feeling the way he twitches in you. You let go of his throat, and he coughs before looking at you softly. His fingers run over the feeling of your hands. Your mouth moves to his neck instead, marking hickies into it as he holds onto your hips and fucks into you. He nods his head yes at your question. 

“You’re so needy, love,” you remark, pulling back and using your fingers to rub your clit as Spencer fucks into you. You cum again a second time, convulsing around Spencer's length as you moan his name.

“Please, please can I cum?,” Spencer asks politely. You’d love to tease him more, but you figure it may be too much for him so you just nod. You kiss him softly. 

“Anywhere you wanna finish?,” you ask. He looks immediately at your chest. You take off your tank top and bra and get on your knees for Spencer as he finishes on your chest, voice groaning your name. 

“Y/N - fuck, oh my god,” His eyes are shut in pleasure and you can’t help but smile at him. When he comes down from his high and sees you stood up, looking for your clothes - he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and pull you down to the couch. You giggle as he does. 

“You did so good for me, baby. You’re such a good boy,” the praises fall from your lips with ease as Spencer mutters a flushed thank you. You reach to the table for a tissue as you wipe the cum off of your chest, making Spencer snort. 

You turn around to be facing Spencer, naked bodies just holding each other. You play with Spencer's hair pressing constant kisses into his shoulders, or on his forehead. Anywhere you can get them really. 

“It’s time for aftercare soon, but we can sit here a little longer if you like. Just no sleeping until we’ve showered and eaten and you’re taken care of, okay?,” you say lovingly, tucking Spencer's hair back behind his ear. He smiles at you softly, the feeling of being pampered like that holding him close.

“Hey, Y/N,” he looks at you with adoration “Will you please be my girlfriend? Cause I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” he says with sincerity. You can’t help but chuckle as you kiss him slowly. 

“Yes, Spence, of course. I’m in love with you too, by the way,” you say back. Spencer simply smiles, hugging you tight and hoping to never let you go. 

______

taglist: @cynbx​ @skrrrrrrrrrrt​ @zephyr-studiesjp​ @reid-187​

[jaxson-v]

This is also on ao3, feel free to leave kudos and comments!

 ------

Kara Danvers is not Superman. She definitely isn't Clark Kent either. She isn't some reporter, fighting for truth and justice. She certainly isn't Earths protector.

 Once, Clark invited her to a press conference that he was reporting on, and after watching him wrestle his way to the front of the bustling crowd and ask uncomfortable question after question, she knew it wasn't for her.

 After Jeremiah Danvers died, Kara saw the look in Eliza's eyes. Heard the hate in Alex's voice for months. Home wrecker, Alex had called her. She was careless with these powers that this second chance at life granted her, and she'd ruined her new family's life. Cost them a family member. (Kara thinks she seems to do that a lot.) So she stopped using her powers. Tried to blend in, be human.

 When Lex Luthor turned the sun red, it was all over the news. Eliza had shut off the television as soon as she could, with a soft protest from Alex. Your sister can hear it, she had scolded. No matter how hard she had tried not to, tried to pretend she couldn’t, she could. It hurt to watch Eliza scold Alex over and over again, trying to be protective of Kara. She didn't deserve it. 

 After all, she was a home wrecker.

 Clark suggested to her one day that she learn how to use her powers and become one of Earth's champions alongside him. She’d nearly laughed in his face. How was she supposed to protect an entire planet when she couldn't even protect a baby? Her cousin didn't need her protection, and neither did Earth. Besides, every time she thought about dedicating her time to using her powers, she felt like she was disrespecting Krypton, another planet she couldn’t help. Earth did need help, but not from her powers. She could save Earth, with her knowledge of advanced Kryptonian science. It was the only thing she trusted herself enough to do. She could prevent Earth's downfall the way that she couldn't Krypton's. So, she became a scientist. 

 That's how she met Lena Luthor.

 Kara glanced at a sports bar tv one night, only to see the sister of the man who’d nearly killed her cousin. She'd heard Clark's rants about the Luthors many times over, but when television-Lena Luthor desperately said the words I am not my brother and spoke of carving her own path regardless of her name, it resonated with her. She was distracted by the news for the rest of the night. L-Corp. Defined by her family. A new initiative to do good for the planet. Kara was hooked. When Alex later asked her why the hell she wanted to work for Lena Luthor of all people, she had mumbled something about doing it to see the look on Clark's face. (It was pretty worth it.)

 She had taken a low level job in the labs at the L-Corp National City branch and was contentedly settling in when Lena announced to the public that she would be moving headquarters to National City.

 A problem that soon arose, was that Lena often came down to the labs to either get to know workers, or get hands on with the technology she was producing.

 She had met Lena a couple times that way, exchanging quick get-to-know-you conversations and showing Lena what projects she was working on at the moment.

 She tried not to hyperfocus in the middle of conversation when Lena remembered her name, because Lena’s thing was connecting with her employees, and she remembered a lot of people's names down there, right?

 Anyway, Kara had now been keeping a human identity for nearly as long as she had lived her alien one. She'd gotten pretty used to tuning out the sounds of a jogger's music from halfway across the city, someone spilling a coffee three floors up, and the jingle of the bell hanging from the door in the cafe across the street. So she hadn’t kicked herself too hard when she completely missed Lena making her way over to Kara's corner station, where Kara was doodling plans for a very not Earth-like machine, complete with notes written in Kryptonian. 

 "What are we working on over here--oh." 

 Looking back on it, Kara had a few theories on how Lena recognized the language, or how she knew there was another Kryptonian, all of them starting with Lex and ending with Luthor. But she was more focused on the way Lena looked up from the paper and looked Kara straight in the eyes. Past the glasses, past the messy ponytail. It had honestly felt like Lena's piercing green eyes were staring right into her soul, reading all of her secrets and Kara couldn't do anything about it. She could instantly tell Lena knew.

 "Anyone ever told you that you look like him a little, up here in the eyes?" She had smirked, gesturing to her own face. Which, only brought Kara's attention to her perfectly arched eyebrows, and back to her amused, kind, knowing gaze, effectively making Kara stutter even more when she choked out a w-what?

 Lena had asked her to dinner that night, under the guise of professionally getting to know her employee better. Kara didn't tell Alex about it, because she knew she would freak. She had just showed up at the hipster kombucha place and made a joke about how very millennial of you Miss Luthor. Lena of course, found it more amusing that a Luthor had a Super working under her, to which Kara gave her nearly her entire life story. She was putty in her hands, after all.

 She had no reason to trust the woman, other than the genuine and curious look in her eyes as she quietly described her home planet in a booth, at 9:00 at night, in a near empty restaurant on Main Street.

 It felt good to talk about Krypton, to tell someone about her family and the friends she left behind. It felt a little worse to choke on her words when she got to watching everything she ever knew blow up right before her eyes. Lena looked a little lost too, but after a moment's hesitation, slowly placed her hand atop Kara's on the table. That didn't exactly help Kara pull herself together.

 She felt a lot closer to the woman after sharing her story, and she had quietly removed her glasses and placed them on the table. She had been more than a little shocked when Lena got the tiniest bit flustered as she looked at Kara, no boundaries.

 “Kara, you look really pretty without your glasses.” She then, of course, had elegantly steered the conversation away, ignoring the light dusting of pink on her cheeks.

 They left the restaurant and ended up walking around the city while Lena gave her life story in exchange, talking about Lena watching her brother drive himself insane with obsession, and reluctantly taking over the family business. When Lena brushed over the blatant verbal and psychological abuse she'd received while living with the Luthors as a child, Kara thought she understood a little bit of why her cousin fought so hard for justice.

 Lena ended the night making Kara promise to move to a higher position and start a few projects that could have massive effects on some of Earth's problems. Kara ended the night laying in bed, trying to think of the best way to tell Alex and Clark that Lena Luthor knew her secret identity.

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Pandora’s Box, Brotherly Interlude

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(We’re back!!! And OH BOY HERE WE GO!!!! We’re only a few chapters from posting all of book 1 now, just two more updates after this one. I hope you enjoy this ~romantically spicy~ update!)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites @viawrites-andacts

19. Pandora’s Box

    Something felt off.

    It wasn’t the same sort of off that came with glowering at entitled individuals to get them to give Trinity some space or the kind that came with feeling like she was in danger. No, it wasn’t unpleasant like that. It was a gentle, floaty sort of feeling, something sort of like fondness that she just couldn’t put her finger on because she wasn’t quite sure she’d felt it before. Azure looked up at her friend, that feeling in the back of her mind trying to present itself but lacking the vocabulary and clarity to make any headway. He was talking to her, saying something in that soft voice he used when he didn’t want anyone else to hear them or he was trying to reassure her that she had no need to be nervous. It was such a soothing tone, she realized with a small start, that she hadn’t even been paying attention to what he was actually saying. Her cheeks flared red and she coughed a little, looking guilty. 

    “Sorry, I didn’t hear that. The music’s a little loud, what did you say?”

    “I said, dinner’s over. Care for a dance?”

    Trinity was standing next to her, his hand out in offering. He was always so polite, even after months of… whatever this was, asking before each dance as if she was going to say no and sit in awkward silence while the other couples swirled around them. It was like some sappy romance novel she’d devoured growing up-- the handsome prince asking “may I have this dance,” taking the princess’ arm, pulling out her chair for her… and she had to admit Trinity looked the part, in his perfectly tailored waistcoat. For some reason, Crim had gone strangely old-fashioned for tonight’s style-- Trinity even looked a bit like the illustrations in those old books, with his long coat and silver embroidery and hair shining a soft gold in the false candlelight dancing from wall sconces scattered about the hall. He smiled at her, hand still outstretched, something oddly… hopeful, in his expression. Or was she imagining it? She’d never turned down a dance with him before, there was really nothing to hope for.

    “Right, of course. I’d love to.” She smiled up at him, crooked and even a little bashful, and set her work-toughened hand in his larger, softer one. He helped her up out of her seat and she tried to keep her internal voice down as she quelled whatever this feeling was in her stomach that had begun the moment their hands touched. She stepped carefully with him out to the dance floor, goosebumps covering her skin as he placed his hand on her waist. Something strange was happening, and it was really weirding her out. Maybe the food was bad? That was doubtful, someone’s head would be on a pike if any of the people at this event even thought for a minute the food wasn’t made properly. That took out drinking too, because she hadn’t had anything that wasn’t water today due to some maintenance she had coming up soon. The mystery deepened, layers of what it couldn’t be peeling away.

She’d been staring at his jawline for a full thirty seconds now, and she had been flushed red nearly the last forty-five minutes they’d been here. She was beginning to look feverish. As they began the lazy, spinning journey across the ballroom they’d taken so many times before, he leaned towards her, his lips centimeters from the curve of her ear. His breath was warm, ghosting across her cheek as he whispered.

    “You alright?”

    She shivered and nearly stopped breathing, her head a jumbled mess and eyes wide. Was she alright? She had no idea. She wasn’t dying, so she was probably alright. Her head bobbed up and down and she looked in his eyes, deep and green and pretty. Trinity’s eyes had always been pretty, she’d known that, but she didn’t remember them being so pretty. Maybe it was the candlelight? In the back of her mind, the single brain cell that WASN’T occupied with trying to figure out when his eyes had gotten so green reminded the rest that he’d asked her a question, and nodding alone wasn’t really going to cut it for an answer. She looked startled.

    “Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a little warm, that’s all.” She’d always been a terrible liar, but she hoped against all hope he’d just take it at face value, just this once. She cast her eyes around the room, hoping to find something to talk about that wasn’t herself. Her eyes fell upon a couple in a dark corner, arms wrapped around each other and swaying off beat, smiling ear to ear and conversing quietly. She smiled and motioned with her head. “They look happy, ain’t that out of place here.”

    He followed her gaze, those eyes like a searchlight into her soul leaving her for a moment. His lips curled gently, a soft smile most people here wouldn’t believe was an expression in his repertoire. Sometimes even she couldn’t believe she got to see it. “I’m glad for them. You have to find happiness where it comes, in this kind of life, and too many of us forget how.”

    She nodded and smiled, humming her agreement as she looked back up at him. Then, a question surfaced, brought on by a conversation they’d had in a hallway a few months prior and the memory of a sad look in his eyes. Her brows knit together, and for a moment she was very concerned. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as her heart pounded. “...Are you happy?” 

    Trinity turned his gaze on her once more, his face distant as he seemed to consider. “Right now?” Those eyes came back into focus, and his smile once again lit up their tiny corner of the world. “Yes, I’d say I am.”

    A wave of relief washed over her to see him smile, and then a memory tickled at the back of her mind. She was ten, and her mother was signing divorce papers.

    “Mama,” She asked from her seat across the table, a pencil in hand, “What is love anyway? How are you supposed to know how it feels?”

    Her mother had sighed and turned over a page, looking up at her with sorrowful eyes. “Mija, love is what you call it when there’s nothing more important to you than knowing someone is happy.”

    A second wave, this one of realization, hit her like a train. All Trinity heard in their shared comm was a quiet little “...oh”, before her left foot tried to step where her right foot already was. Her ankle twisted out from beneath her, sending her nearly crashing to the floor.

    Before she could hit the ground, or really before it was even obvious she was falling, Trinity’s strong arms around her shifted and tightened. Suddenly, her hand was clasped in his, the other firmly on the small of her back, arched gracefully in a way she wouldn’t have thought she was capable of. He was holding her in a perfect dip, as if it had all been intentional. Of course, she would realize all of that later. For now, time was lost to the two of them, lost as they seemed to be in each other’s eyes. 

    Time outside their tiny bubble ticked on, of course, the sudden change noted by curious eyes all around the ballroom. Couples shifted in their dance steps, eyes met eyes in conspiratorial glances-- were they about to see a proposal tonight? Others couldn’t help but falter in shock at this never before seen side of Trinity Jericho, known to be icy on the best of days. How many of them, or their children, had he turned down only to be transformed into the sort of man who romantically dipped women on the dance floor by one brash southerner? Two pairs of eyes, on opposite sides of the room, turned away in unified frustration and disappointment. Perhaps it was too late for them-- each of the people they’d been longing for at a distance seemed now even farther away.

    But then the moment had passed, barely an instant to the two who had been locked within it, and Trinity smoothly swung Azure back up into his arms. Their steps resumed. Unsurprisingly, he seemed to have recovered from their little mishap more easily than she.

    “And here I thought we were past you tripping over your own feet,” he murmured, thinly veiled amusement evident in his tone. She tried and failed to come up with something witty to say back, her head so clearly somewhere far away from where they were. Her cheeks darkened, the rosy hue stretching to her ears and shoulders, and she wouldn’t, couldn��t hold his gaze. 

    “Sorry, I was thinkin’ about somethin’ else.”

    Whatever it was, he hadn’t noticed it in the comms. Either she’d gotten better at keeping thoughts to herself, or he’d been a little distracted too. No further explanation seemed forthcoming, though, and the last thing he wanted was to push her when she already seemed a little… off. He nodded, allowing her to brush the topic aside, and pulled her close as the music shifted into something slow and sweet. Very close. After all, he wouldn’t want her to trip again.

20. Brotherly Interlude

    Three hours, some cybernetic tinkering, and three cups of black coffee later, Azure finally felt like her heart wasn’t about to leap out of her throat, but now it was instead hanging low in the pit of her stomach. Once the delighted high of her realization faded, the guilt had set in. It felt wrong to care for Trinity, something forbidden and foreign stripping the joyous feeling down to something upsetting. The entire purpose of her presence at these stupid events had been to keep potential suitors and their pushy families out of his hair. It felt like a violation of his trust, to develop these feelings he was avoiding from others, and she had worked so hard to gain that trust in the first place. She cared about him, about his well being and his happiness, and she couldn’t see how not only making him reject her, but making him then go to these things alone again to avoid her was in any way helpful. He’d be back at square one, but with the added issue of the only person he could ask for help now being part of the problem. Sure, he’d told her the first time that it only had to be a one time thing, but then she’d asked to keep going, and now this looked like the world’s worst ulterior motive to deny other women access to him so she could isolate him and keep him all to herself. It was a horrible concept, and she hated herself for even bringing the possibility to light.

    And she wasn’t even a good match for him, all number crunching and heavy boots. He deserved someone light on their feet and pretty and kind, so kind, just like he was.

    She was sipping at the beginnings of mug number four and wondering how she’d ended up in this mess and how the hell she was going to get out of it when her brother, shirtless and with a fresh coat of blue developing in his hair, entered the room. Her shoulders stiffened and then purposefully slumped, trying to look normal. Crimson tossed her what she found out was a scone once she’d mindlessly taken a bite. 

    “Put a shirt on, dumbass.”

    “Aw get a grip, where am I gonna be comfortably shirtless if not with family?”

    “Weirdo.”

    “Nah, you.”

    She smiled mechanically and dipped the sandy dry baked good in her cup. Sweet, with a little bitterness from the coffee. Crim sat himself on the edge of her workbench table, thoughtfully and carefully dropping every crumb onto her workspace. He looked at her with a measured gaze that she knew was trying to tell her something that she just didn’t want to listen to right now. He cleared his throat.

    “How’d your date go?”

    “Wasn’t a date. Just a favor.” It was a lot harder to hide the strain in her voice that she couldn’t get a lid on when it was her brother she was talking to. She didn’t want to want it to be a date, it’s messy and that meant it wasn’t going to be easy to solve and she hated things that weren’t easy to solve. Except she did want it to be a date. Really badly, actually. Which again, was the problem in the first place. She pulled on a wrench a little too hard and it went flying across the lab. Crim ducked and winced.

    “The eightieth favor, and ya came back redder’n a summer sunset.” Her beloved brother ignored it, like the loving family member he was. Look at him, pressing the initial issue. She wondered if she was like this to him when he got weird and locked himself in his little studio to do mountains of paperwork alone in between four minute naps and four AM meals with Perry. Maybe she should be nicer to him. He was all she had at the end of the day after all, it was just such a shame he was such a little shit. She brushed a few crumbs off her table.

    “Listen, ain’t my fault the rich and influential like blowin’ money just to gossip like they could at a knittin’ circle.”

    “You don’t have to go, you know. I know you hate these things, and any man worth his salt would tell ya you’re free to stay home.” He took another bite of his scone and avoided her eyes, like he knew the contact would make her jumpy and defensive. He was right of course, about men and the eye contact, but then she was already jumpy and defensive, so what was he doing other than mitigating damage like he always did for her. What a good twin.

    She hesitated a moment before responding. She definitely did hate the events, with the overdone glamour and the careful answers to thinly veiled questions about motive and expertise. It was like playing a game no one would tell her all the rules of. She was horrible at games, and she was even worse at talking to people when she knew they wanted to rip her apart. But she didn’t really have to, Trinity had her back, every step she took.

    “I know, but he’s alright, and he needs my help.”

    Her brother shifted to stop leaning on her desk and grabbed the small hand broom she kept nearby to start sweeping bits of scone off her table. She realized with disgust that he’d just been eating it dry. She held out her mug. He leveled her with a look as he sipped it. 

    “Your taste in hot beverages needs help.”

    “Not my fault you need forty packets of sugar minimum to power your ability to breathe.”

    For the first time in longer than she’d want to admit, she watched her brother laugh and try to force down some hot bean water in his least favorite form.

    “Touché.”

    “Backwater hick, speak Terran-English like you were meant to.” She smiled as she took her mug back and dunked into it one more time. She had hoped maybe the joke would change the subject, but damn if stubbornness didn’t run deep in the family. Crimson skipped right back to the topic originally at hand.

    “Azzy, you know that it’s a little outta character for you to keep doin’ somethin’ you don’t like when you don’t have to. What’s goin’ on? He blackmailin’ you? The dick’s bomb and you don’t wanna share, what is it?” He threw the joke in to keep the mood light, and she knew that, but she choked a little on her oversaturated scone anyway. Her brother, ever observant, laughed again, and she’d be happy to see him happy if it wasn’t at her expense. “Oh Azure, you dun caught the bug, huh?” He was still laughing as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and decided it was best to take his leave while he still had the last word. “Good luck with that, Kari. You’ll need it with a man like that, I’m sure.”

    She couldn’t formulate a response in time, so she drained the rest of her coffee and returned to her work, ears burning.

[bleachimaginebuttrans]

Hyperfocus

"Syazel!"

He doesn't respond when you call to him, and that's no surprise to you. He tends not to, not when he gets too deep into his ideas, his experiments.

Still, you're tired, and lonely, and he's the only one the hollow part of your brain trusts to sleep near. Thus. You have to drag him out of his lab.

Which you really don't want to do, and he's really not going to appreciate. Still, you haven't slept in almost a week, since he's been in this damn lab nearly as long. Even hollows need to sleep sometimes, and maybe he doesn't need to you there to do so when he gets too tired, but the sands of Las Noches haunt your dreams, and only when he's there does it stop.

"Syazelaporro Granz!" You call into his lab again, and again, get no response. For a moment, you stand there, staring into the lab, scowling, before finally breaking, and walking into the lab, ignoring Lumina and Verona as they bounced around you as if attempiting to stop you from getting too far into the lab, but Syazel had made it so they couldn't actually touch you, perhaps in fear of them hurting you. They were sweet, but now it was far more helpful to you than it would be to him.

And there he was, leaning over his desk, tools spread across the entire mess, papers thrown everywhere, a gneral mess that you had seen many times before.

"Syazel..."

He didn't move, but finally, finally, he took notice, humming towards you without looking towards you.

"You've been in here for nearly a week, Syazel."

Still no real response, but you didn't expect one, sighing softly, then moving over, wrapping your arms around his middle carefully. He huffed at you, eyes darting back to glance at you at first, before doing a double take, turning around properly, dislodging your arms and cupping your face in his hands.

"You don't sleep without me." he said it careful, quiet, as if realizing it again for the first time. You smiled at him, because that was true, and you had half expected this. He either got upset at you for pulling him away, or he realized that, oh yeah, you don't sleep well without him.

"You've been in here a week."

Syazel glanced around, frowning slightly, one leg bouncing quickly. You watched him quietly as he glanced between you and his table, without speaking up on it. However, as he did this for longer time, you started to figure he couldn't get away.

"You stuck here?" You asked softly after another moment of him frowning, and he sighed, shaking his head carefully.

"I'm stuck. Aizen wants something done, and done quick, and while I am having fun, he's asking much of me, to get it done this quick."

You sigh, stepping back, resigning yourself to another few days of sleeplessness, but Syazel snatches your wrist, dragging you close, and looking out towards his hall. "Verona, Lumina! Get over here!"

The two of them bounce over, and you raise an eyebrow, leaning against him, melting underneath his spiritual pressure, which he wraps around you in a blanket. It's comforting to you. It wouldn't to most, with how Syazel is, but to you, it's warm, it's safe.

Syazel gives a few orders your exhausted brain doesn't pay attention to, until suddenly he lifts you up, careful and quick, since he's not really the strongest. There's a cot near his desk now, that he settles you in. You sigh, settle, closing your eyes.

"Take care of xem, got it?" You hear him say to Verona and Lumina, and you smile, curling into a ball as he settles back into his spot, and listening to a pen scratching across his papers as you finally-finally- slipped into sleep.

[fae-redux]

im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t. 

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter. 

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean. 

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him. 

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone. 

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes. 

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his. 

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life. 

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate. 

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason. 

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning. 

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls. 

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back. 

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame: A Break? No Way!

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~2k Rating: G Time Frame: Sometime during the 2nd trimester of their 2nd year? Later? Story Arc: Stand Alone

----------

Author’s Note: How many detours will I take? How many WIPs must I start before I can finish one? Will I ever finish any of the works I started over the last couple months? Only my µ’s muse knows.

Anyway, this chapter was born entirely out of a single comment from myon as we discussed the new songs for the Nijigasaki girls. I don’t want to spoil it entirely, so I’ll include it in the followup post.

Also, the girls of R3birth have not made their anime debut, so they will not be appearing in this scene. Perhaps I may come back and make changes later if they are introduced in the second season.

Summary: It’s time for everyone in the Nijigasaki School Idol Club to have a new solo! And Yuu is going to help them all.

----------

Movement at the edge of Ayumu’s focus caught her eye and she looked up.

“Are you alright, Yuu-chan?” She asked the twin-tailed girl beside her under the kotatsu.

“I’m fine.” Yuu offered a smile that was nowhere near its normal power.

“You’ve stayed up late every night this week.” Ayumu reminded. “It’s fine to take a break.”

“A break? No way!” Yuu shook her head. “I need to help you guys.”

“I believe Ayumu-san and I can take care of anything else tonight.” Setsuna joined from her spot opposite Ayumu. “We’ve made a lot of progress thanks to your help, Yuu-san.” She smiled, though Ayumu noted even hers was not as brilliant as usual.

The three girls had been working together for hours since arriving at Ayumu’s place after school, breaking only for dinner. The project was a pair of new solo songs for Ayumu and Setsuna for an upcoming Live being planned by the school idol club. Although, together may have been a little bit of an overstatement, as Ayumu and Setsuna had each been primarily focused on their own song while Yuu assisted as needed.

And on the topic of Yuu’s assistance, she had been helping the rest of the club as well all week. Thus, all the late nights. She had actually ended up staying at Rina’s, Shizuku’s, Karin’s and Kanata’s places after missing the last train the first couple nights and not bothering the next two. Tonight, it was Ayumu’s turn and they had invited Setsuna to join them.

“Are you sure?” Yuu seemed more than a little dejected.

Whatever Setsuna was about to say in response was interrupted by a yawn. “Mm…” She ended up humming and nodding after.

“It seems we should take our own advice and turn in as well.” Ayumu decided. “We can continue later this weekend. But for now, you and I need to rest up for tomorrow, Yuu-chan.” She reminded her friend of the plans they had with her parents. “Or today, actually.” She corrected, noticing the clock on her headboard.

“I suppose.” Yuu sighed and crawled over to Ayumu’s bed before pulling herself up and under the covers.

“I’m sorry, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu suddenly apologized. “I got so wrapped up in our work that I completely forgot to set out a futon for you.” She stood and moved to her closet to retrieve the bedding.

“I’ll help.” Setsuna assured, sliding the table a little to make room before getting up to retrieve a pillow.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Ayumu stepped over to her plushie display and grabbed the pink rabbit before turning and handing it to Setsuna.

“… Right… Thank you.” Pink dusted the raven-haired girl’s cheeks as she accepted.

----------

Ayumu opened her eyes to an unfamiliar sound. Soft, almost imperceptible scratches sounded from somewhere in the room. Then a sound she recognized; a page being turned. She sat up and immediately spotted Yuu setting the table, scrawling away at the paperwork for the songs they had worked on last night.

“Yuu-chan?” She murmured, keeping her volume down as she realized Setsuna was still sleeping behind Yuu.

“Mm?” The girl with green tips looked up from her work, set a hand down for support and twisted her shoulders around to face the redhead. “G’mornin’ Ayumu.” She offered a smile that was barely more energetic than the prior night.

“How long have you been up?” Ayumu asked, sliding out of bed, stepping over Setsuna and making her way to her normal spot at the table.

“Dunno.” Yuu admitted. “I dreamed up some good ideas for almost everyone and needed to get them out on paper before I forgot it all.”

Ayumu couldn’t help smiling. She loved Yuu’s unwavering support, even when it lead to hyperfocus and nigh-all-consuming obsession. And while she wished Yuu would take better care of herself, she had long since vowed to do what she could to fill in where needed when it came to her health and wellbeing.

“Are you going to be alright coming along with us today?” She asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Yuu nodded. “I love hanging out with you and your parents. I can take a nap afterward.”

Well, at least she recognizes she needs more sleep. Ayumu conceded to herself.

A knock came at the door, followed by Ayumu’s mother’s voice. “Are you girls up? I’ll have breakfast ready in a moment.”

The sound caused Setsuna to stir, so Ayumu was no longer worried about waking her.

“We’ll be out in a few.” Ayumu responded.

“Oh, Setsuna-chan, good morning.” Yuu greeted the other girl as she slowly sat up and yawned.

Setsuna stretched. “Good morning, Yuu-san, Ayumu-san.”

“Good morning, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu added.

“I had a bunch of new ideas,” Yuu continued “though we probably can’t fit them all into just these songs, and probably shouldn’t try, but maybe we’ll be able to use some in the next set? Anyway, take a look at it later today and let me know what you think.” She held out a stack of sheets.

“Thank you, Yuu-san.” Setsuna accepted and slipped the pages into her bag.

The three then rotated through the bathroom to wash their faces and get ready for the day.

----------

ScarletStorm: Ayumu-san

UeharaAyumu: What’s up Setsuna-chan?

ScarletStorm: I wanted to contact you privately so as to avoid possibly embarrassing Yuu-san.

UeharaAyumu: Yuu-chan?

UeharaAyumu: What do you mean?

ScarletStorm: I believe she mixed up some of the paperwork for our songs.

ScarletStorm: A lot of it, actually.

Oh? Ayumu crawled over to the table to check what was left there. Sure enough, much of it was for Setsuna’s solo.

UeharaAyumu: That appears to be the case

ScarletStorm: I can stop by later tonight so we can swap them.

UeharaAyumu: No need to make a special trip

UeharaAyumu: We’ll see each other again Monday morning

As soon as Ayumu sent the second message, she realized what Setsuna was probably going to reply.

ScarletStorm: I was hoping to work a little more on it tomorrow.

And there it was. Yuu wasn’t the only workaholic when it came to school idol things. Ayumu laughed lightly to herself and shook her head. She was about to agree and set up a time to meet when a different thought occurred to her.

UeharaAyumu: Perhaps we can use this opportunity to help each other?

UeharaAyumu: Look at what the other has done from a different perspective and maybe do some editing or offer some advice?

UeharaAyumu: A little like what Yuu-chan has been doing for us, but we both have different perspectives than her

UeharaAyumu: And each other

ScarletStorm: That’s a great idea, Ayumu-san!

ScarletStorm: It will a little like our Shuffle Festival from a little while back.

ScarletStorm: Actually, no, not really.

ScarletStorm: We’re not covering the other’s song, just helping them write one.

UeharaAyumu: Well there’s no reason we cannot add a little of our own influence to the other’s song

UeharaAyumu: I’ve always admired your style, Setsuna-chan

UeharaAyumu: So I wouldn’t mind seeing what influence you might have on a song that I might sing

UeharaAyumu: Then on the other side, I would like to see what I can add to a song of yours

UeharaAyumu: And on the topic of the Shuffle Festival, I actually kind of hoped I would end up with CHASE! instead of Kasumi-chan

UeharaAyumu: Yuu-chan still likes to play it on her piano every so often and I can’t help humming along when she does

UeharaAyumu: After all, it was the song that inspired me to become a school idol and her to join and restart the club

There was a noticeable pause before Setsuna began typing again. Then another pause. And another.

ScarletStorm: Thank you, Ayumu-san.

ScarletStorm: That song has always meant a lot to me.

ScarletStorm: As such, I am very happy to hear that you and Yuu-san continue to enjoy it.

ScarletStorm: That said, I also enjoy your style.

ScarletStorm: However, I believe Emma-san was a better pick than I for covering Yume e no Ippo.

ScarletStorm: At least she was then.

ScarletStorm: My time with Ayumu-san and Shizuku-san in A・ZU・NA has allowed me to experience many more facets of being a school idol than I would have otherwise on my own.

ScarletStorm: You have allowed me to expand my knowledge and skills of being a school idol.

ScarletStorm: It would be an honor to sing a song in homage to Ayumu-san’s style in exchange for her singing one in mine.

Ayumu smiled.

UeharaAyumu: I’ll let Yuu-chan know we’re trading notes for a little while when I check on her later to make sure she’s taking the break she needs

UeharaAyumu: And speaking of breaks, don’t you be staying up to late working on my song

UeharaAyumu: Both you and Yuu-chan have a bad habit of overworking yourselves and it makes me worry about you

Scarlet Storm: Thank you for your concern, Ayumu-san.

ScarletStorm: I will be sure to go to bed at a decent time tonight.

UeharaAyumu: Alright

UeharaAyumu: See you at the station Monday morning

ScarletStorm: Yes, see you then.

----------

“Wha~?” Kasumi exclaimed, planting both hands on the table and leaning toward two of her seniors on the other side. “Ayumu-sempai and Setsuna-sempai are trading songs?”

Ayumu laughed lightly. “Just trading some influence in style.”

“And learning new ways to look at our songs,” Setsuna added excitedly “how we share them with our fans and ultimately grow as school idols.”

“Kasumin wants to grow as a school idol too!” Kasumi whined. “Senpai!” She turned toward Yuu. “Help Kasumin make her songs even cuter!”

“Yuu-senpai has already helped you a lot, Kasumi-san.” Shizuku pointed out from beside the ash blonde. “I believe what is being suggested here is a little different.”

“It sounds more like our recent Shuffle Festival.” Karin observed.

“That’s what I thought at first as well.” Setsuna acknowledged.

“But what Setsu and Ayu-pyon are doing is trading influence on creating songs, not just covering the other’s songs.” Ai spoke up.

“Exactly.” Ayumu agreed.

“Sounds fun. Ai’m in.” The blonde grinned.

“I would like to try something new as well.” Rina stated flatly. “I would like to discover new ways to connect with my fans.”

“Hmmm…” Emma considered “I enjoyed singing Ayumu-chan’s pure song during the Shuffle Festival, but I wonder how it might feel to sing a cool song like Karin-chan’s or a dramatic one like Shizuku-chan’s.”

“Or a cute one like Kasumin’s?” Kasumi asked.

“I think everything Emma-chan sings would end up being cute.” Kanata’s voice was slightly muffled by her pillow before she turned her head. “Wouldn’t you agree, Karin-chan?”

“O… of course.” Karin didn’t seem to have expected to be asked such a question.

“What kind of influence would you want to have on your song, Kanata-san?” Yuu asked.

“I already get inspiration and influence from Haruka-chan.” Kanata drawled.

“Well, this all sounds like a lot of fun.” Yuu continued. “But if we’re going to overhaul everyone’s songs, it’s going to be a lot of work. But…” she leaned over retrieve a sizable stack of sheets from her bag “I came up with a ton of new and random stuff once Ayumu and Setsuna-chan revealed their idea to me. Take a look and see if anything gives you ideas. I’ll be happy to help wherever I can, as always.”

Seven hands reached forward to take random pages and several discussions broke out among the group.

Ayumu glanced at the twin-tailed girl beside her. Looks like it might be another sleep deprived week for Yuu-chan. She worried silently. Maybe I’ll take a night in the middle of the week this time. Oh. Setsuna-chan and I are pretty far along with our songs, so maybe we can all take a break that night. Perhaps an anime movie night, so long as we limit it to only a few episodes and not an entire series.

Someone said her name to get her attention and Ayumu was taken from her thoughts and into a discussion about a possible lyric change. The next couple hours were filled with excitement and anticipation as the girls of the Nijigasaki School Idol Club began looking at their songs in a new light.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[ryosei-hime]

Sex and Therapy: The Reboot

Cog and Lannah return from their road trip with the part needed to repair Fizz. Warning for abuse. This one gave m a lot of trouble and I actually had to write it twice. But it’s done! Also available on AO3.

Concord had fallen asleep after all at some point in the early morning hours just after the sun came up. Fizz watched him sleep with his head against his shoulder, fingers curled around his own lightly. He studied the details of his face, though he knew it by heart and there was nothing new to be found. But it was so much nicer to think about the little white splotches under his eyes and the softness of his skin than face the dam waiting to burst with existential thoughts after his brush with death.

So much simpler to hyperfocus on the curve of Concord’s horns and remember sweet moments between them. The little daily touches and kisses. The salty taste of his skin and the sound of his needy moans. The honest expressions of love and the sound of his laughter. He missed the sound of his laughter. It felt like he hadn’t heard it in ages though he knew that wasn’t true. He leaned down to kiss his horn when the sound of Concord’s phone ringing made the sleeping imp sit up suddenly. 

His horn slammed into Fizz’s face and he found himself extremely thankful his pain receptors had been turned off. He grabbed his mouth out of reflex and Concord gasped, all worry and fretting fingers. 

“Oh, Fizz, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he assured him, pushing his hands away. “Can’t feel pain right now. But damn, baby, use those to protect yourself in the future.”

As Fizz started checking his teeth to make sure nothing had gotten knocked loose, Concord fumbled around the pillows and sheets to find his phone. He had to search all the way down to the foot of the bed before he found it. 

“It’s Cog!” 

Concord put her on speaker when he answered so Fizz could hear as well. The rush of traffic could be heard in the background. 

“We’re almost back,” Cog near-shouted. “I’d say half an hour or-” 

The sound of honking and clattering suddenly cut off Cog’s words followed by the muffled shouting of both women. Then the sound of Cog fishing the phone from wherever it had fallen.

“Make that fifteen minutes if Lannah keeps driving like this!” Cog shouted. 

“My driving is what’s gonna get us there on time!” Lannah returned. 

“Or not at all!” Cog shot back. “Just be ready when I get there. Get all your kissing out of the way. You’re not hanging around while I work. This is too delica---look out!!” 

There were more sounds of deranged driving and the squealing of tires. Fizz heard a snatch of exchange before the connection cut them off. 

“Is the old lady on the bike alive?” 

“Oh, she hopped right back on!”

Concord stared down at the phone for a few moments afterwards, a look of slight concern. Fizz reached out and ran the back of his fingers down his arm to get his attention.

“You heard the doctor,” he said with a smirk. “Get up here and give me my medicine.”

Concord smiled back and let Fizz take his hand, drawing him back up to his side as he reeled his arm back in. Concord ran his hands down his chest gently, eyes trained on them.

“I’m so happy you’ll be safe soon.” 

Fizz wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. Concord bit his lip, looking guilty again, avoiding eye contact.

“Fizz, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

Fizz took his chin in his fingers and pulled his lips close enough to kiss, forcing him to look him in the eye. 

“I don’t want to talk about that now. Is that okay?” 

“Later?”

“Yeah, later.” 

Fizz couldn’t even begin to think about it. To even know how he felt or might react. He didn’t want to invite those thoughts now when any moment could be their last together. He leaned in to close the kiss, hand sliding up his back. Concord’s kisses were soft, still treating him as fragile as he, quite honestly, felt at this point. He lowered his mouth to Concord’s neck, the gentle scraping of teeth against skin making Concord shudder in his arms. 

“Think we have enough time to play a little?” Fizz asked cheekily.

“Not the way Lannah’s driving,”

“Shame,” Fizz breathed into the crook of his neck. “You’re beautiful in this light.”

When he pulled back, Concord had a far off look in his eye and Fizz knew his over analytical mind had latched onto something about his words and ran with it. He kissed him again, wanting to draw him back out of his thoughts. Concord had a strangely shy expression as he touched his forehead to Fizz’s.

“Maybe we can have some fun after. If Cog says you can.” 

Fizz smirked and pulled him in for a more passionate kiss, fingers slipping under his shirt and  up his side. Whatever it was, the moment must have passed. He wrapped his arms around Fizz’s neck as he leaned into him, fingers tangling in his tunic, using it to pull himself all the closer. 

They used every second before Cog showed up to shower one another with affection, distracting themselves from the fear of the impending procedure. Fizz didn’t know what kind of risks were involved in the repair itself, but after what had happened before, he didn’t even want to think about it long enough to let the fear settle in. 

When Cog and Lannah arrived, they brought with them a whirlwind of energy. Fizz could hear them all arguing from the living room as they made their way back to him. Cog came in alone and shut the door, leaving Concord outside. Fizz used his saddest face on her.

“Concord?”

Cog let out a deep sigh and opened the door again. Concord rushed in like a toy car that had been revved up and straight into Fizz’s open arms for one last embrace. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, my sweet, beautiful, wonderful Concord.”

Fizz peppered his words with kisses to Concord’s face and neck before Cog cleared her throat not-so-subtly. He gave Concord one last, long kiss before releasing him.

“You’ll be okay,” Concord assured him as Cog shooed him out. 

Cog shut the door again and dragged a chair over to the bed, sitting down in it heavily as her tool bag dropped beside it. She leaned forward and put her face in her hands. Fizz reached out and touched her arm tentatively. 

“You okay?”

“Long trip,” Cog muttered.

“Lannah doesn’t sound like a good driver.” 

“Satan, no. And she’s no help in a fight.” 

“Fight?” Fizz asked, intrigued. “Did you have to kill a guy?”

“Two,” Cog replied. “Don’t tell Concord. He’ll lose it.” 

Fizz chuckled and gave her a somewhat proud smirk. 

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“Well, they didn’t give me a choice. Couple of punks tried to jump us at the exchange. The important thing is we got this.” 

Cog held up the conductor between two fingers. It was a quarter the size of a finger and shaped like an hourglass with obvious connectors on either side. Fizz felt his first jolt of fear now that the repairs were staring him in the face. 

“Cog, will this be like…” He buried his fingers in the sheets, tangling them in his fists. “I almost reset. I didn’t expect it and it got kind of trippy. Will that happen again?” 

Cog set the conductor down on the bedside table very gently before clenching her own fist and letting out a long, aggressive exhalation. 

“He didn’t tell you that could happen?” 

Fizz shook his head, still not wanting to think too hard about it. But Cog’s obvious anger made that difficult. 

“I told him to tell you before I left! God dammit, Concord. I asked you for one thing.”

“He probably didn’t want to scare me.” 

Fizz felt a bit defensive of Concord although he didn’t feel he could blame Cog for being angry either. Her telling Concord to do so added a new layer to the situation.

“You deserved to know. I don’t care what his excuse is. That wasn’t something he should have decided for you.”

Fizz looked down at his hands. He didn’t know what to say to that. But it was clear Cog had also been trying to do what she thought best for him. They’d come to different conclusions on what that was, but he had two people who cared for him enough to try to do right by him. He chose to focus on that right now. He put a hand on Cog’s clenched fist without looking at her. 

“Hey. I’m glad you’re my friend.”

Cog sighed and he felt her relax under his touch. 

“Yeah, all right. You’re a lot of work, but I guess I’m stuck with you now that I’ve killed for you” 

Fizz smiled as he caught her eye for a brief moment before taking his hand back. She started getting her tools out and setting them up on the bedside table next to the conductor. 

“What was it like? When you almost reset?” 

Fizz explained it to her the best he could, and she had a look of genuine interest in her eyes as she took it in. 

“If you experienced interaction with your OS that way before, I don’t see why you wouldn’t again. You might want to brace yourself for it. There’ll be a moment when your system shuts down entirely before it reboots. There’s the risk you reset again, but it’s much lower since I’ll be shutting you down properly. It shouldn’t shock your system.”

Fizz removed his tunic and laid down flat on his back as she spoke. He stared at the ceiling, trying not to panic. He didn’t want to go back into that space again. He’d taken the Concord replica into himself. Did that mean someone else would greet him when he arrived? Would Ahroth? Maybe he would now . Damn, he shouldn’t have thought about him. 

“Cog. I’m not gonna lie. I’m scared.”

“I don’t blame you. But I’ll do my best to make sure everything I can control goes the best it can.” 

Fizz smiled at that. No hollow but well-meaning platitudes from Cog. She only had facts for him, but she delivered them in her own caring way. He appreciated that about her. He closed his eyes as she started removing his chest plate. He didn’t want to watch. But she let him know before she shut him down, counting down from three for him. 

Fizz felt a sharp snap deep in his chest and then nothing. When he became aware of his existence again, he found himself in another dark space. This time it wasn’t Concord’s room that drew itself out, but a much larger and more furnished one. 

“Oh, no,” he gasped as the room’s features became clearer.

His mind didn’t even bother to sketch out the walls of the room, creating a wide open space. But Fizz already felt claustrophobic. The huge canopy bed appeared beside him, piled high with pillows and stuffed animals. He stumbled back away from it, but found himself tripping as shackles snapped around his ankles. He got to his knees, eyes following the chains back to the bed.

Another set of shackles locked his wrists together and he heard the familiar thumping footsteps approaching. He turned to face Ahroth. He loomed over him, dressed in his formal wear, shiny black hair slicked back in a pompadour, only two arms out, rings adorning his fingers. He’d been somewhere important tonight. That’s why Fizz had thought it would be safe to try again. He tutted with one mouth as he spoke with the other.

“Fizzarolli, where would you even go?” Ahroth chided. “I give you everything you could ever want. This is where you belong.” 

Ahroth picked up a stray stuffed animal and Fizz glanced around the room. All the toys, games, swings, tightropes, and hoops blinked into existence as the room filled out. Everything a child or performer could want. The two ways Ahroth preferred to perceive him. Fizz lowered his head in defeat.

“Yes, Ahroth.” 

The stuffed animal hit him in the head, but he didn’t so much as flinch. 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

He watched Ahroth’s feet come into view and recoiled from the hand reaching to pet his head now. But it was no use. Ahroth grabbed his chains and jerked him forward, running his hand over his head and around to cup his face, thumb brushing over his lips.

“Good boy.” 

Fizz had a sudden vision of Concord staring up at him, licking his lips as his tail flicked back and forth. No, that wasn’t like this! He shook his head free from Ahroth’s grasp, pulling at the chains connecting his wrists. The room began shaking in time with each jerk, blurring a bit more with every clank of the links. Fizz’s body became fatigued, aching all over. Something felt missing in his chest. As Ahroth dissolved before him Fizz could hear his incensed voice echo over the shifting scenery. 

“We won’t be trying that again, now will we?”

When the shackles fell from his limbs, Fizz found himself in the dark, shirts and coats surrounding his face. The closet. He reached out and searched for Concord, almost feeling his tail between his fingers before it phased through them like a ghost. 

“Fizzarolli.” 

A soft, feminine voice called out to him and he followed it. Out of the closet and into her cluttered apartment. His mind couldn’t work out the details of the clutter but it piled around the furniture, a shapeless mass of trash and useless items. The few items his mind picked out were those of his own face. She had old, broken Fizzarolli merchandise scattered amongst the other junk.

She collected it as she’d collected him from the trashy alley he’d hidden in after escaping Ahroth. She brought home piles of it everyday. Fizz didn’t understand it, and sometimes, shamefully, he wondered if he’d been better off with Ahroth. But these were fleeting thoughts. Material possessions and comfort weren’t worth what he’d experienced there.

He maneuvered around obstacles easily, some never even rendering before he slipped around them. He met his owner in the kitchen and she seemed to be pleasant enough for now. But her moods were capricious and volatile. He never knew when they’d shift. He took his seat at the only free chair at the table.

The little old imp puttered around, humming as she took something out of the oven. She didn’t use oven mitts but it didn’t matter. Fizz knew the oven hadn’t worked in years. When she cooked for herself it was usually in the microwave or the old toaster oven with the frazzled cord. He was quite aware of all the fire safety hazards in this place. 

“Your favorite, Fizzarolli,” she stated, sliding uncooked batter in a muffin cup in front of him.

Fizz waited until she’d turned back to the stove to make a face of disgust and swipe it off into the floor alongside other food he’d pushed away. She never seemed to notice and she never cleaned it up. It rotted there. 

“All done, already?” she asked, as she turned back to the table.

Fizz nodded with an innocent look, tongue stuck out just a bit. 

“Yum.” 

Her face contorted in rage and she grabbed the muffin tin off the stove, throwing it at him. Fizz sighed as batter ran down his face. Not this again. He waited patiently as she launched into her speech about him being an imposter of Fizzarolli. How he didn’t even know Fizzarolli’s favorite food. Fizz knew. It had been part of his personality programming. But he couldn’t guess what she thought it should be from one week to the next.

“May I put myself away again?” he asked after a while.

She didn’t hear him over her shrieking. Fizz tried to endure it until she’d worn herself out like he always did. But he just couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take another moment of that ear-splitting shriek. He knew very well that he was only a poor copy of Fizzarolli. He didn’t need it screamed into his face day in and day out. Fizz stood suddenly and his good arm wound around her, shoving her back into a pile of junk. It rained down around her as she stared up at him in shock. 

“May. I. Put myself. Away?” 

He ground the words out from between bared teeth. But she didn’t answer. The rage in his face eased as he drew his arm back in, leaving her half buried in trash and moldy old Fizzi Buddies. She didn’t move. He stared blankly. He hadn’t meant to kill her, but he honestly didn’t feel any remorse. He felt relieved even. Free. 

Concord can never know.  

At the thought he felt a pain in his chest. The pain increased as the scene around him played out in fast forward. EMS workers pulled her body out of the tomb she’d made of her home, the children he’d never seen before came, trash dwindled, and he found himself sitting in the pawnshop. 

The pain in his chest became a clawing sensation. 

He watched people come and go. He even eyed Cog as he stared out the window, watching her hurry by several times. But she had been too hard to read and he couldn’t be sure she’d be safe. He hid from customers that might be likely to buy him and mistreat him. He harassed customers he knew wanted nothing to do with him to seem eager to be sold. But he wouldn’t go to another abuser. He’d even put up with this stupid shopkeeper using him after hours however long it took to find the right owner. He pressed his face against the window as he caught sight of a familiar man. The one that had punched Concord! 

But no Concord. 

Fizz looked confused and disappointed. The clawing sensation in his chest grew frantic. He backed up and stared down as little hands pushed out, stretching his synthetic skin.

Oh. Fuck.

Fizz wrapped his arms around himself, coiling them about as many times as he could, constricting them so tight it hurt.

“No! You’re mine!”

He could feel the sharp nails clawing through his skin, ripping it to shreds, slashing against the metal of his arms. Every slash of pain brought on a memory of Concord. His eyes, staring up at him in the darkness of the closet, his gentle hands on his chest, tears spilling over his cheeks. The memories bled from the wounds buried beneath the coils of his arms and wormed their way out. 

He gaped as wisps of color and light gathered around him. Some were bright and full of dancing light, others hung heavily in the air, dark and stormy like rain clouds about to burst. They danced around one another and merged. Fizz coughed and more wisps escaped from between his teeth. They were finding their way out wherever they could. 

“No. Stay.”

Fizz felt as weak as his voice as he pleaded for the memories to come back. He fell to his knees and hung his head. 

“ Please, don’t leave me. ” Concord’s voice echoed from one of the clouds. 

Fizz looked up to it as his own voice responded, the dim grey lights within flickering in time to his words like lightning in a stormcloud. 

“ I’m not leaving you, baby. I’m not leaving you. I’m not leaving you. I’m not leaving you. ”

As his own words were looped back at him, Fizz realized how stubborn he was being. He let his arms begin to uncoil, slowly revealing the hole the Concord replica had clawed in his chest. But there were no violent hands searching for escape now. 

A cloud of wisps erupted from his chest in streams to join the rest. Slowly the cloud began to take form again. Before he could begin to make out Concord’s features, Fizz felt himself jerked forward, out of the pawnshop, down the street, into Concord’s bed, the closet, his own room, faster and faster through his more recent memories until he hit a wall. 

Fizz sat up suddenly with a gasp and felt Cog’s hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay?” 

“I..think so. Processing. Memories.” 

“That makes sense,” Cog said easily, turning to put her tools away. “You’d have to load them during the reboot.” 

“You’re done?” 

“For now. You’re stable and safe. You can resume your normal level of activity. There’s still a lot to do, but nothing that’ll slow you down or get you killed.”

Fizz watched her closely. He could have picked her. What would that have been like, he wondered briefly. He could see her being very resistant to his attempts to fulfill his function. And she’d never have put up with his lashing out. No, he liked her as his friend and his mechanic, but it would never have worked out. He had needed Concord’s therapy skills, his patience, his kindness. He appreciated all of Cog’s straightforward and blunt ways, but they weren’t what he had needed then. 

Fizz sat up, letting his legs slide off the side of the bed, so he could sit facing her. He wrapped his good arm around her a few times and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Cog. For putting me back together and putting up with me.” 

She was stiff in his arms at first, but relaxed and hugged him back. Her arms were warm and strong. She gave good hugs and that surprised him.

“Well, it’s not like you’re a toaster or something I can just let die. You’re a good guy.”

Fizz squeezed her a little tighter before releasing her. She finished getting her things packed up and Fizz noticed her pocketing the broken regulator. 

“What are you gonna do with that?” 

“Learn how to make new ones. Mammon doesn’t make it easy to obtain these. And I’d like to avoid the screaming metal death trap that is Lannah’s car if you ever need another.” 

A sly grin spread over her calm face.

“But, also, industry secrets are fun to collect and subvert.” 

Fizz grinned back. Cog just kept endearing herself to him the more of her layers she revealed. He counted himself lucky she ended up in his life after all. But now that her job was done, he couldn’t wait for her to leave so he could have some quality time with his Concord.