#so yeah in my mind the term art gets held up at least in a lot of people in my city as like some sort of value marker

[blossom-hwa]

manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre:  fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.  

TXT Masterlist

manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[williamaltman]

Ok, so... I finally finished Room No.9. I have some mixed feelings...

The third route was really sweet. There are so many sweet moments between them. In Daichi's narration. The tasks of hurting Daichi were kind of nervewracking, but not too much really. The way the whole post-enema shower thing turns out makes me, again, sad at how that went on the end B/C route, because it really, really was avoidable...

I won't even talk much about ending E. It just feels like the "wrong/bad" option of the route. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to take that Seiji is really fine and distanced himself like on ending D, or if he got taken out by the people responsable for the study. Anyway, it doesn't really feel "real", even less than endings D or B.

The F ending one... Yay, they got out, they're fine, they're still friends.... They're still friends. Ugh. It's so frustrating to hear Daichi talking about just forgetting everything that happened. Like, yeah, I get wanting to "leave the room behind", but that he straight up says he'll just ignore it? That they didn't learn ANYTHING really? Even after that sex scene? Come on. They even have Seiji saying he doesn't want to get married, and Daichi talking about maybe drifting apart because they would have their own families, as if to hammer home the point that they'll really stay just friends?

Look, I can kind of appreciate the feeling of holding onto your friendship. I do. I managed to appreciate it after the other endings where that is lost. But that should be like, one of the endings. Or maybe, not even that. If it was one or the other, there should've been a romantic ending. There should've been a romantic ending one way or another. Because it's honestly so frustrating that at the end of all that they're still in denial. Or at least Daichi.

Like, again, I get valuing friendship, but Daichi is SO IN LOVE. Like he's so in love it's stupid. I'm sorry but there re SO, SO MANY LINES THAT SHOW THAT!!! Not just the ones where he generally compliments Seiji as in appreciating his good qualities as a person, but like, the ones where he notes how attractive he is. And there are a lot of those, some horny ones but also some that are neither platonic nor sexual, just, romantic. There's no way they really wrote some of those with us not meant to think that.

I guess the writers didn't want for there to be just one ending that was fully great and satisfying above all the others? I don't know. I guess ending C is the romantic one? Sure, whatever...

I don't want to read too much into it but it really does feel like the game is sort of trying to send the message that lust/physical attraction and a true/pure love are inheretly incompatible? Like it's a good thing that they'll only stay friends and never have sex or even kiss again? Like that's the only option because anything else is just a ruined friendship? I really hope that wasn't the creators' intentions.

In the end I guess I can still headcanon that in the F ending they will eventually come to terms with being in love and getting together. Who knows. Maybe I'll write something.

I'm a bit disappointed to end this with such a sour taste in my mind. I, overall, really loved the game. But I'd be lying if I said this (the way the "good ending" goes and no romance issue) doesn't make me really sad. I saw people sort of complaining about it, but I thought it was just gonna be that they didn't outright said they were in love/gonna be in a relationship but that was still implied, you know? That's what that CG in the train looked like to me... Like I saw someone frustrated that they didn't talk about their feelings but I thought it was just gonna be something like "but after everything Seiji and I are even closer" as they held hands implying a romance.

Anyways. Still a great game overall. I love the premise, the characters, the unsettling vibe that we're able to feel, the sweetness in it, all the horniness and guilt and exploration of the human psychology. The art, the voice acting, all the technical aspects. I guess it's really over. I've been finally freed from room no.9. 🫡

[dumplingsjinson]

Okay so a LOT happened today. This is going to be a mess, so yeah, just a heads up!

TL;DR at the very bottom, like always.

One thing before I start: Even after all of this has happened, there’s a part of me that wonders if he likes me or not but it’s definitely solidified the fact that I like him 😂

On with it!

So I met up with him at the train station, and we went to one of the art galleries located 10 minutes away from the station. Nothing much really happened here. We hugged as a way of greeting and I held back on kissing him because I didn't want to startle him, and I also wasn't sure if he'd be okay with it. I did link arms with him and shit during the start of it but eventually let go.

Anyway, we were in the city for probably an hour before we hopped on the train (I was leaning on him and everything during the ride because I was tired lol), then changed to the metro, then got to his car so he could drive us back to his suburb.

We walked around the shopping centre for like, an hour. While we were on the escalators, we would like... Lean against each other and shit; doing shit couples do. At one point, he was placing his chin on my shoulder and had his hand on my waist and I was like OMGREONGKNREG.

(Funny thing about this: his mother was also at the shopping centre, because he saw her car parked near his, and he called her about it. All I heard was him repeating my name over and over again after she asked him who he was with. He didn't address me as a friend to her, just like how he didn't address me as a friend to his other family members the last time I went to his house so like... Oop. Good sign, perhaps? I never saw her at the shopping centre, but when we got to his home, she was just pulling out of the driveway to go to a party. So I met her for like... Five seconds lmfao.)

Anyway, the house was empty. Everyone's gone. I was in his living room lounging around for a bit, and then like... 10-15 minutes of me being there, he invited me up to his room and this is where things get... Interesting.

Things after this are going to be a bit out of order lol, I'm writing them as they come to me.

We were lying on his bed and he was all snuggled against me (keep in mind, his bed is a single bed so it's quite a tight fit for two people, and it means we kinda need to be pressed up against each other so the person who's on the outer side doesn't fall off the bed lmfao). He was telling me stories about his life, I was telling him stories about my life, he told me about his exes (he's been in two relos before: first one was for 2 years, second one was for 3 years. Been like... Two years since he's been in a relo since lol, or least a serious/long term one afaik). He ended up telling me about his exes because I was kinda asking him, "So do you do this with other people?" (the cuddling and kisses on the face and stuff) just to like, see where he was at with all of this, which lead to him being like, "No, unless we're talking about exes".

I ended up telling him how I've never been in a relo before (since he asked) and have only started using these dating apps seriously at the start of this year, and that I never really met anyone interesting and then he was all like, "Until you met me." LIKE. DAMN BOI. OKAY. I SEE HOW IT IS.

He was kissing me on the face every now and then, and at one point he asked “Can I kiss you?" and I non-verbally say yes, so he leaned in and kissed me and I'm just- LEKNFEKLWNF. I wanted this so bad, and it's finally happened! (This is the first and last time of him asking me that lmfao - every other time after this is him kissing me unabashedly and me kissing back. The first time he tried to make out with me, I kinda pushed him away because I wasn't feeling it too much, but after that I was like... Fuck it. I want this. I want him in whatever way I can have him. I caved really bad lmfaoooo.)

He was telling me how I smell good (my perfume is winning me points!), and I was like "you smell good too" because fuck me, he really does smell so good wlfknewklfn.

He kept calling me cute/adorable while cuddling up against me.

I'm wearing something deemed kinda hot for a day like today (I thought it was going to be cold but I guess not), and so he asked me "You sure you don't want to take that off? Or you could wear one of my shirts instead?" and I'm like UH NO IT'S FINE LWKENFLWEKNFKLN. I literally only had my singlet on under that shirt, and I also didn't really want to change lmfao.

At one point, we napped a bit; we woke up and ended up switching positions. I'm on the outside of the bed and he's on the inside.

More cuddling ensued. And when I say cuddling, he was like... Literally pressing up against me. You know the "bodies pressed flushed against each other" type of scenario? Yeah, that. Our legs were entangled, he was combing his fingers through my hair, he kissed me every now and then: all over my face, on my lips. (At one point, he was literally on top of me while we were making out, and that was when he started peeling back my turtleneck and trailing kisses down my jaw, then down to my neck LAKEJNFEWJKLNFEKLNF. And I was like "please don't leave any marks" LMFAOOOO. And yeah, he just kept doing that over and over again. At one point I wanted to be like “Can you kiss my neck more” BUT I WAS TOO SHY SJDKDK).

Told me, and I quote, "I could kiss you forever." So yeah. I'm just going to fucking combust somewhere, thank you!

He continued to call me adorable and cute, and I'm out here being like "stop lying, I'm not cute or adorable" and he's like "I'm not lying. You are adorable." We're like basically bantering every now and again lmao, and I end up calling him adorable at one point because he kinda is tbh.

But anyway, he was all like "you're so soft" and "you're so warm and cuddly" and "you're so cozy" and I'm just l;kJEWLKFNWEKLNF plEASEEEE I LIKE HIM SO MUCH LMFAO AND HIM SAYING ALL OF THAT IS NOT HELPING MY CASE.

He continuously checked on me to make sure I'm okay with him doing all of this, which I honestly really appreciate because it's just so like... Sweet? Told me if he's being too much then to let him know. And honestly, he wasn’t. He was being just right. I loved every bit of what he was doing to/with me, not even gonna lie. So I let him know I was okay with this, and that I was comfy with what he was doing.

We both were are being really clingy with each other, and were teasing each other about it and shit HAHA.

During all of this, he slipped in a, "So where are we going for the next date?" SKGNLWNKN. SOOOOO. I guess we're dating? (As much as I wanted to ask what exactly we were while we were all snuggled up against each other, I think I'll save that for after another few dates lmao.) At one point, when I had my head on his chest, I could hear his heart beating so fast, and when I asked, "Are you okay? You nervous?" he's like "I'm fine. Pretty sure that's the normal heart rate" so I'm all like "Yeeeeah, sureeeeee. Whatever you say." (My heart rate was through the roof, I checked my Apple Watch for my heart rate while he went to the bathroom and... Yeah. It told me everything I needed to know. I could practically feel it beating out of my chest and I was hoping he wasn't able to hear it wlkfnekwlnf).

AND OH GODDWELKFNWEKN at one point, he told me "Try kissing my neck. If not, I'm going to kiss your neck" and I was like "You're saying this like you haven't been kissing my neck already" LMFAOOO.

We dozed off every now and again while snuggled up against each other, and when we woke up, we'd cuddle some more. I had my leg over him and everything, much like a koala, and he was slotting his thigh between my legs and everything. Just... Pressed up against each other. Big spooning me at one point. Back hugging me. The lot. I was DYING the whole time.

All I can say is that this man got so fucking comfortable with me, and I loved every bit of it. That's how fucked I am.

Did I mention how he kept telling me I should stay the night? And I kept saying "I want to but I can't." Like, just before I left he was like "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?" ELWKNFEKLWN He wanted me to stay the night so bad, and I wanted to stay the night so bad (and I let him know, saying shit like "I want to so bad but I can't" and "I don't want to leave but I have to" because if I didn't, my parents would most definitely kill me lmao).

The first time he asked me that and I said no, he was like "Maybe next time", but then he kept asking me again after that anyway LMAO. I was kinda fuelling him on since I flip flopped between "Maybe I should stay" and "But nah."

And oh GoddddDDD, I was like "I won't see you again for a bit because of how busy you're going to be for the next few weeks" and he was all like "Yeah, so let's cherish this moment."

And yeah... At one point, I told him "I wanna stay here tonight because I know I'm gonna miss you once I leave but I gotta go home". So uh. Basically a confession and a half on my part LMAO.

Who knew clingy me was also very unfiltered? Though I will say, there were other things I wanted to say to/tell/ask him but I kinda held back lol.

I also was like "You're going to have to teach me a lot of things" and he was like "So what do you want me to teach you?" and I got all flustered because of that EVEN THOUGH I WAS THE ONE WHO FUCKING MENTIONED IT LWEFNKLEWN.

And I also asked if I was too boring (since we were just laying there and cuddling and shit and I wasn't really initiating much LMFAO) and he was like, "No you're not."

And oh yeah, he also asked if I was feeling shy in a playful manner and I just ran with it and used it as an excuse whenever I didn't want to do something with him lmfao. He was never pushy about the things I didn’t want to do, though, and he really did stick to the, "Don't worry, we can take things slow."

AND JEJDKS his dad came home after work with pizza and I didn’t end up going down to eat anything because I wasn’t hungry, so I didn’t meet his dad… And then just as we were leaving the house so he can drive me home, I see his dad in the newly bought massage chair, sleeping away and I was like OOP-

Thank God none of his family saw me with messy fucking hair because that would have been bad 💀💀

He drove me home after that, I hugged him good night and kissed him, told him to message me when he got back home, and yeah. He messaged me and goes “can’t wait to cuddle more 🥰” or something like that, and I replied with “sameeee. I’m always down for some cuddles” 😭😭😭

So yeah. We basically spent the whole day cuddling. He kept kissing me all over the face. He kept calling me cute/adorable and cozy and comfortable and LKNEWKLFN. Complimented me and shit ahaha. We spent our sweet time kissing again and again and again lksnfewnf. We were just very, very affectionate with each other (I told him that he was very affectionate and cuddly and he was like “anything wrong with that?” and I was like “nope. I like it that way, at least with you” and he was like “I’m glad.” I let him know time and time again I'm new to this, and he kept reassuring me about it. I was all like "I'm not familiar with this" and he was basically like "Well, get familiar with it because I'm going to be doing this a lot."

AND YEAH. THAT'S BASICALLY WHAT HAPPENED. This recount is all over the place because I'm writing everything down as they come back to me rather than having the events be in order; everything has kind of blurred together lol, and some things aren't said verbatim.

TL;DR: We went out, then we went back to his home and spent like... 5-6 hours just cuddling in his bed before he drove me home. We made out so many fucking times, to the point where I've basically lost count on how many times we did that, he was whispering sweet nothings to me, he kept playing with my hair, he kissed me all over my face, kept pecking me on my lips, he was trailing kisses down my jaw and my neck, he didn't want me to go home, we were bantering here and there AND I think he wants a fourth date... So. Yeah.

[sp1rit-realm]

₊‧꒰ა 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ⧿ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐩𝐬! 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞!

Happy 900!!!! Ummm Marauders maybe? but if you think someone else fits better I assure you I don’t mind.

Where to start, i’m pretty quiet, like very very soft spoken until im really comfortable in a room. Once I know someone I’m still quiet in volume but then i can talk for at least 15 minutes straight without losing my rhythm and i get very very animated, lots of facial expressions, too many hands waving around. I like reading but I can’t call myself a bookworm because I take too long to finish them and usually give up so i’m more of a book dragon. I love writing and art and being creative and I love to learn but i hate to be graded. My favorite color is burgundy and my favorite season is whatever one it currently is until the very end and i’m sick of it, then i like whichever one is coming next. I like to collect things and i’m way too sentimental. I like rain and leather jackets and i don’t know if you want any physical attributes but im short enough that literally everyone comments when i wear tall shoes (i have platform doc martins with a heel so it’s only like 4 inches which i guess is a lot over all but even then Im only up to like 5’6-‘7 barely) And my hair is stuck an almost auburn color because I dyed it dark plum/burgundy in november and now the final claws of goldish red are dug in and i don’t see it letting go, which is especially annoying because my roots are returning much lighter than i last remember but I’ve been dying my hair since at least last June so i don’t know what I really expected. I have identity crises over my hair at least every other week.

In terms of how I love people it’s very much however it works with that person. I like when people like to pay attention to me and look for me in a room and that kind of thing, I also really like to be held and have my hair played with,,,,i find dogs very relatable (but don’t let that sway your decision in anyway, do what your heart tells you)

I’m sure 900 people leads to a lot of asks, but i have no idea, so please take your time and don’t feel rushed or obligated at all. I am so proud of this milestone for you and i’m so proud of all the people coming to their senses to appreciate such a talented spirit like you 💖💖💖

HI MARA!!!!!! THANK U SO MUCH

if you mean marauders era in general, i say (drumroll please)

you and dorcas!

to me, her character is very laid back, but secretly she's so passionate. like, she pretends she doesn't care, but really secretly does. she would adore all the things you collect, and will listen to anything you have to say about them. she'd still have to lean down to kiss you. she would say, "really? new hair again, mara?" and then she would whisper to you, "it's cute, makes your eyes pop." because nobody can know that she adores anybody, until you become official. then, she can't stop talking about you. she will read books to you as you lay your head on her lap, hair being played with. she would dance with you in the rain. she would steal your jacket because it smells like you, and because it means everybody knows you're hers. she would sit and listen to you rant/ramble/infordump and watch lovingly as your mouth moves a mile a second and your tongue gets all twisted. she would hang up your art, proudly displaying it as to say: "yeah, my girlfriend? they're perfect, and talented, and beautiful, and look at this art they made." she would kick someone's teeth in for you, and she winks at you during her quidditch games, loving how much you blush; stark red in the sea of green.

[yournewfriendshouse]

so a little while ago I reblobbed someone’s work and they messaged me and said something like ‘thanks for giving my work your ‘real art tag’ and it occurred to me that pretty much no one on tumblr now will know how that tag came to be, so maybe I should elaborate?

so if you’ve followed me for a while, you will know that I am an artist and went to art school at some point. and at art school, or the art department at the university I went to (as with many others) the tenured staff there were in a constant battle about what constitutes ‘art’ and what is a ‘craft’. and the whole thing is gross because a lot of it has to do with the way the art world has been built around westernised bullshit and so is deeply entrenched with colonialism, intellectualism, chevanism and other fun stuf that says painting and sculpture are god, conceptual art is love, photography and printing are on thin ice; and things like ceramics and textiles are crafts—despite the long and rich history of civilisation using textiles and ceramics to express all kind s of things, and also to make their houses and bodies pretty... anyway we all know that is bullshit. but it actually ended up getting the awesome ceramics studio shut down a year or two after I graduated, which was a real shame. absolutely fucked.

so anyway I went there, and it was really hard for many reasons, but I got my degree.

and then I went on to make art that involved lots of glitter. my first (and only) solo show post uni was literally involving hand cut confetti. I did talks thing like…about how it is good to make art that is nice, actually (I did that talk while wrapping a present lmao!). I ran workshops at my house whenever I caught people saying they weren’t creative, and made them draw dots on a page for an hour while I asked them questions about what kind of problem solving shit they had to pull out of their arse every day in the hospitals and classrooms they worked in until they could admit they were in fact creative. because in my mind creativity isn’t just drawing and all art is real art. the paintings that dogs and elephants make is real art. confetti is real art, fan art is art. it’s all real art.

so yeah. that’s just the tag I use, because I facetiously got into a habit years ago of calling the most kitsch sickly sweet stuff ‘real art’ because I went to art school when everyone was obsessed with plywood and any obvious emotion in your artwork was critiqued to shit.

I don’t think anyone is sitting there and unpacking what I’m reblogging under that tag; hopefully you’re aware it’s not that deep. but just in case someone was wondering, I wanted to make it clear like…I tend to put fan art on my fandom blog, but if I did put it on this one it would be under that tag like it’s not me trying to make some kind of point lol, it’s kind of exactly the opposite. If I post art and don’t, like, put the tag on it, it’s because I forgot lol, not because I in all my lofty whatever deemed it ‘not real’ lmao

.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF. 

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil. 

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad. 

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

[moonctzeny]

First Times

“Jae”, you whispered, gaining his attention, “We will still be best friends after this, right?”

He pulls you closer to him, making your face rest on his naked chest. He smelled like sweat and that intense body spray, like those days he came back from his basketball practice to meet you under the treehouse. He smelled like home.

pairing: childhood friend/ceo! jaehyun x fem! reader

genre: smut, angst

word count: 6.584k

warnings: loss of virginity, then not so virgin sex lol, squirting

summary: “Jaehyun had been your best friend ever since you were 7 years old, but after a certain incident he disappears, without informing you of his whereabouts. You had come to terms with the fact that you’ll never see him again until your paths cross unexpectedly, meeting as boss and employee”

a/n: I feel like ceo! jaehyun fics are overwritten so I tried to focus more on the childhood friends to lovers aspect, giving it a little twist

———————————————————————

There was no way that was him.

When you were 10 years old you couldn’t wait to have your first kiss. You were plain obsessed with the romance dramas that were playing on tv, your mom complaining about having to witness the same unrealistic tropes over and over again, but you stayed frozen in front of the screen.

Why were the characters so caught up in the thought of seeing each other? Why were they willing to risk everything they had for the other person? You were curious to find out about the love the grown ups talked about, and playing mommy and daddy with the neighbor’s son, Jaehyun, wasn’t cutting it anymore.

He was waiting for you in his treehouse, preparing his toys for your playdate. A table of pots and cutlery on one side of the room and a battlefield with ships on the other. He preferred when you two dueled for the “fate of your country”, but he knew you liked to play house so he compromised. One hour of what you like and one hour of what he liked, that’s what his mom had said.

You stomped inside, your pout not matching his excited smile.

“Finally, you’re here! Can we play my games first? My uncle got me new soldiers, look!” He ran up to you, a bunch of different green miniatures in his hands. You didn’t bother to spare him a glance, too caught up in your personal drama.

“I don’t want to play games,” you whined, “I want a boyfriend!”

Jaehyun blinked a couple times, confused. “But you have one, me. I am your friend and I am a boy”

You threw your head back in frustration, groaning so loudly that the rest of the neighborhood probably heard you. “Noo it’s not the same! We don’t kiss on the lips and stuff!”

The little boy came closer to you, scowling. He was starting to get really impatient with your whining over these dramas that you liked so much. So what if you don’t kiss and stuff? It’s no big deal anyways!

He grabbed your ears, bringing you closer to his face and he gave you a small peck. Your first kiss.

“There. Will you play with me now?”

When you turned 18 you exchanged your love for dramas with a love for art. You also exchanged your calculus workbooks for oil paints and acrylics, busy with piecing together a portfolio that would get you accepted into art school. There was one thing that stayed stable in your life, however, that followed you from childhood into adolescence.

“Hey, sorry for being late, basketball practice took longer than I expected”, Jaehyun apologized and joined you at his backyard. The treehouse had gotten too old for inhabiting but the trunk you were currently lied against served its purpose as your current hangout after school.

“Hey”, you sniffled and he finally noticed how watery your eyes were. He dropped his sportsbag immediately, and sat next to you on the slightly moist grass, your arms touching.

“I’m guessing Mark denied your offer to go to the prom with you?”

You nodded, hiding your face in his embrace before he sees you crying. Being Jaehyun’s friend wasn’t always easy. His easygoing personality and good looks on top of being president of four school clubs made him one of the most popular kids in high school. You reminded yourself that he’s still the same boy you’ve always known, that you don’t have to feel threatened by the army of girls always clinging by his sides, but it was hard. It was hard to recount your rejection from this morning when he probably has never truly felt that feeling before. Even with his college applications pending, you knew he’d be successful. Any institution would be crazy to miss up on him, and the rest of the world felt that way about him too.

“I don’t wanna talk about it”, you mumble, leaning back before you stain his t-shirt even more, “Did Mina find the dress she is gonna wear after all?”

Your genuine worry for his prom date, even after your failed promposal, broke his heart. You were always so empathetic, so selfless, so nice to him. He didn’t have it in him to let you stay in your state of misery.

“Nothing”, he blurted, rushing to explain after seeing the confused look on your face, “she bailed on me last minute”.

That was a lie, but you didn’t have to know that. Jaehyun cancelling on his date would be a dick move, he knew that, but you being happy was his priority. It always has, at least as long as he was still here. “So if you didn’t mind, I was thinking we go together? As friends of course”

“Jae! I love you!”

You tackled him with a hug, the grass tickling his neck and he just laughed at the adorable screech you let out. You both stayed there enjoying the chill evening, talking about renting cars and matching outfits.

He let you rant about the dress you’ve chosen to wear and he promised to convince his parents to leave his house empty for the after party.

The prom night was the last time you saw Jung Jaehyun. There you two were, sprawled out on his bed and tired off your asses, spending what seemed like the most fun night of your life together. Your feet were in blisters from all the dancing, head spinning from the after-party vodka. Jaehyun had turned his head towards you, tie undone and staring at a piece of glitter that had fallen on your collarbone. He looked as handsome as ever in his suit, red eyes glued on you and a satisfied smile on his face.

“Your parents are gonna be so mad when they see the mess on their carpet. I told you not to get Jungwoo drunk”

Jaehyun laughed, his deep laugh reverbrating through the room. “Not if you tell them in the morning. They can’t get mad at you. You told your mom you’re staying over, right?”

You nodded, maybe shaking your head a lot longer than needed but your tipsy self wanted to make sure you got your message across.

“You know”, you started with a snicker, “she gave me like a million condoms for tonight. Probably thought I was planning on losing my virginity like any teenager with a social life”

He kept staring at you, eyes lazily taking in the sight of your pretty smile. “Yeah, same with my dad. I think that’s the only reason why they gave me the house”

You whipped your head to face him at the speed of light, mouth gaped open and  staring at him incredulously. “Jae, you’re a virgin??”

It was hard to believe. I mean sure, you hadn’t had any experience in the sex department either but you were, well, you. Shy with new people, horrible at flirting and a bit standoff-ish if you were being honest. But your best friend, as likable and good looking as he was, had never been with a girl before?

“Well, yeah, I was just kinda- I was waiting for the right person, you know? Someone to make it memorable”

You sighed, relating with his words but also...

“I just wish I could get it over with”, you confess and you saw Jaehyun gulp visibly. He was glancing at the nothingness on his ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

“Yeah”

The silence lasted for a few minutes, only the distant sound of a passing police car interrupting it. He sat on his knees, the conversation sobering him up significantly. “Remember when you wanted to have your first kiss and I just did it so you wouldn’t complain about it anymore?”

You smile fondly at the memory, waiting for him to continue. There was somewhere he was getting at.

“Well, we both want to not be virgins anymore, right? So let’s just do it”

You felt an electric tension growing between you. It was like you were holding two magnets, begging to touch each other but you still held them apart, because if you let go you just knew things would never be the same again.

Jaehyun leaned in, dunking his head at the last minute and kissing your neck instead. It was tentative, a kiss that tested the waters. He was still holding back, wanting to make sure you wanted this as much as he wanted it too. You scooted closer to him, placing your legs to frame his closed knees, putting his face gently in your hands.

His pupils were dilated, shifting to a million places but your voice managed to make him concentrate to your eyes solely. You could hear his heartbeat bumping in his chest.

“Jae, I love you. You have to trust me, ok?”

“Okay” he nodded, eyes wide open and sincere, “I love you too, so much”

You kiss him finally, and the room around you spun even more. The feeling was strangely comfortable, yet your lungs were struggling to do their job. In that moment, it felt like everything in the world was the way it was supposed to be, and you two were a part of that bigger, perfectly orchestrated picture. 

He grabbed you by your waist, bringing you over his lap. His fingers danced from your thighs to the zipper of your dress, the cool midnight air spreading goosebumps on your back. You help him out by pulling your straps down, staying in your strapless bra.

“If I knew what was gonna happen tonight I would wear cuter underwear”, you mutter and Jaehyun chuckles. Why did your heart skip a beat at the sound? It’d be a lie to say you hadn’t found yourself staring at your best friend a minute too long in the past, but tonight- Tonight the effect he had on you held an intensity that you’ve never felt before.

“Underwear can only help you out so much. They can’t do wonders”

“Wow Jae, way to make me drier that the Sahara desert”

He dipped back down to your throat, sucking at the soft skin over your collarbones and earning an embarassingly high-pitched moan from you. You felt him smile against your neck as he licked over the nibbled flesh in little circles, wishing he would repeat that motion on another part of your body.

“We’ll see about that”

As if he wanted to prove his point, he grinds you over his erection, lighting your insides on fire. Your dress was short, meaning that you could feel all of him-and it seemed like a whole lot- over your panties that were damping up.

“Show me your tits and I’ll show you mine”

Jaehyun laughed at your comment; ridiculous yet successful at calming his ragged breath down. The buttons of his dress shirt opened one by one, each of them revealing another inch of his smooth chest. His skin was glowing, and his abs proved that puberty was starting to work its wonders on him.

You trace your fingers over two moles on his chest, leaving soft kisses over them. You could feel his pulse on your lips, fast and pumping blood all over his body. Despite his attempts at staying collected over the loss of his virginity, you realized that he was probably as nervous and scared as you are.

“Your turn”, he whispered, bringing you back into the moment. You reach back to unclasp your bra, freeing your boobs, and a smile cracked on your lips at Jaehyun’s reaction.

He stayed frozen and gawking at your chest, hands twitching and not knowing what to do with the sight you so generously offered him. Bringing his hands into your own, you place them over your mounds, guiding him into squeezing them. He continues on his own, pinching your nipples as he leans forward for another kiss, probably to hide his evident blush from you.

The making out continued, leaving you both with only your underpants on. He places you on your back, and starts petting your clit over your panties, the motion so soft it drove you insane. Hungry for more. 

You started whining, grinding forwards against his fingers and he chuckled, pulling the fabric away to leave you uncovered. The chilly air was quickly exchanged with the feeling of his warm digits, causing a different kind of shivering. 

When he inserted the first finger in you, you felt like your whole body was burning up with a high fever. You’d done this again, with your ex-boyfriend in summer camp but it definitely didn’t feel as sinful and delicious and pleasureable as this. It pulled at a knot in your stomach, begging to be untangled and Jaehyun was taking his sweet time with you. Quick circles on your swollen bud and a nibble on your neck, that’s what it took for him to enjoy you shaking through an orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful”

You looked angelic with the sweat trickling down your chest, skin glowing in the limelight and Jaehyun would just sit and stare if it wasn’t for the tent in his boxers that was screaming for attention. Pulling at the soft fabric, you sprung him free and the boldness that came when you did started to evaporate. It hit you in that moment, that he had seen all of you and now you saw all of him- yes you had been best friends for years but this intimacy was unprecedented. And you liked the feeling.

You put him in your grasp, moving your fist in a pivoting motion with his precum as your lubricant. He throws his head back with a grunt that almost made you cum a second time and urged you to pick up the pace. Unsure of what to do next, you licked your other palm and started to massage his balls hoping he liked it. He did by the sound of his moans, but stopped you abruptly, scaring you that you accidentally did something wrong in your inexperience.

“If you continue like this I’m gonna cum. Let’s do this“

You swallow on nothing and reach to your jacket on the floor for the condoms your mum gave you. 

“Want a pink one? A green maybe? Blue?”, you joke and he pets your hair lovingly, looking down at you.

“Blue. Your favourite colour”

You smiled warmly at his response, satisfied with your decision to share this moment with your best friend. With someone who knew you so well.

Unwrapping the plastic, you placed the rubber over his hardness with shaking hands, following the instructions as best as you could. Jaehyun leaned down over you, planting a dozen kisses over your face as he positioned himself over your entrance.

“Ready?”

You nodded, giving him permission to dip his tip in, the first inches stretching you out nicely. The wetness caused by your orgasm helped your situation a lot, the slickness allowing him to dive a little deeper. Then, the stinging started, making you hiss and he kissed you immediately, trying to soothe you.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. We have to go through the hard part now ok?”

The nickname playing over and over again in your head gave you the patience needed to endure him bottoming out, along with the first thrusts. It was uncomfortable, but the feeling of him inside you, of the two of you coming together as one, released some chemical in your brain that made most of the pain go away. He took his fingers from your hips to gently pat away the teardrops staining your cheeks.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so well”

His words and the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls drew a moan out of your half open mouth, the sound carrying on the air you two shared and landing on Jaehyun’s lips. There was a tension on your belly and something told you it wasn’t just physical, more like an emotional revelation, a fire already ignited but flared up by this incident. Your feelings towards your childhood friend, a love that was more than platonic.

For you, at least.

Jaehyun was young and you felt so tight around him that he didn’t take long to finish. He pulled out last minute, taking the condom out and spilling spurts of his cum all over your stomach. It earned a scowl and an eyebrow raise from you but the way he apologized, saying you “looked too beautiful to resist”, was too cute to stay mad at.

You laid back on his bed, holding hands and trying to register what just happened. The ocassional car drove by, the lights illuminating Jaehyun’s eyes that you noted were glossy. Maybe it was just as intense for him, you thought and squeezed his hands a little tighter.

“Jae”, you whispered, gaining his attention, “We will still be best friends after this, right?”

He pulls you closer to him, making your face rest on his naked chest. He smelled like sweat and that intense body spray, like those days he came back from his basketball practice to meet you under the treehouse. He smelled like home.

 “Forever”

Forever must have a different meaning in the Jungs’s dictionary, because after that night, Jaehyun was unreachable. You tried to text him, call him, only to be ignored and faced with stupid excuses.

You thought long and hard about why your best friend suddenly decided to ghost you. Maybe he didn’t like the sex. Understandable, since it was your first time, but it’s not like you promised him a night of mind blowing love making or anything. You decided that he probably felt too awkward to talk to you after that night and you told yourself to give him some space.

Three days passed, then another, then a week and still no sign of Jaehyun. Tired of the radio silence and irritated by his attitude, you got ready to visit him at his house, confront him one-on-one.

No, you didn’t wear your favourite perfume for him. It just so happened that you chose to put on that dress he had complimented you on before. You didn’t hope for him to call you beautiful again, or have a retake of the prom night fun. The butterflies in your stomach were probably the heavy lunch you ate. Yes, it was all coincidental.

You walked down the stairs with a pep in your step, storming through your parents in the kitchen.

“And were are you going so happy, young lady?”, your dad chirps and you smile at him.

“I’m gonna go see Jaehyun real quick!”

“Real quick? To a different country? He came back already?”

You stilled at the sound of your mother’s words, confused.

“A different country? I’m going down the street to the Jungs, mom”

“Honey, the Jungs are there but not Jaehyun. He moved abroad to study Business. Didn’t he tell you?”

The ground beneath your feet seemed to melt and pull you under the third level of hell. How could he get accepted to a university and not tell you? How could he move countries and not even say goodbye? How dare he make you fall in love with him, give you the best night of your life and then leave you hanging like that?

You ran upstairs to your room, wailing in what seemed like a mixture of rage and sadness. You felt so dumb, in your sundress and shaved pussy and cute underwear you chose out for him. It was all so, so unfair and the feeling ate you alive. The feeling that you hated Jung Jaehyun.

So now, when he stands from across the room, all suited up but with the additional rank of CEO on his shoulders you couldn’t believe that it was him.

Your portfolio did get you into an art school after all, majoring in product design. Your innovative work of rebranding the latest releases, taking on the aesthetic part of the marketing, landed you a great deal in J industries. The product was good and your skills were better, so when the sales went off the roof you weren’t surprised. What you didn’t expect however, was that the boss of your boss, who was currently staring at you from across the launch party, was your childhood best friend.

Ex-best friend.

“Damn, y/n, Mr. Jung hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night, huh?”, said Sook, the assistant marketing director who was working by your side on the project.

“Well, he should have come over and congratulate me by now. I did help save his company”

She laughed lightly, unaware for how deeply rooted your dislike for the man really was. You continue your conversation when you suddenly see her turn visibly tense, sweeping her hands on the front of her dress. Oh, you should have watched what you wished for.

“M-Mr. Jung, how are you enjoying this party? This is y/n, she did most of the designs for the campaign-”

Eyes widening in shock, you get lost in some passerbys, meddling with the other coworkers in the gathering. Sook left a little yelp when she realized you had dissolved into thin air in seconds. You could still faintly hear her apologizing merrily.

“Oh I swear she was sitting right next to me Mr. Jung”

Chatting up with friends and even strangers, you made sure you never stayed in the same place for too long. Jaehyun’s eyes were still boring holes into your face no matter where you went, a smirk plastered on his own every time he caught you checking out for him.

In a last attemp to turn invisible, you find cover on a small couch, slightly hidden by some ballon decorations and you shoved a book to your face, faking interest. But alas, a dip in the furniture next to you and the familiar woody smell soon rang a bell of danger in your head.

“You know your book is upside down, right?”

Wincing at your fatal mistake, you turn around to be faced with a pair of brown eyes you thought you’d never see again. You noticed how they’re glowing in pride and ambition and remembered how they shined that night from tears, how you tried to read through him, just like now.

“Jung. Got bored of your little staring game?”

Jaehyun had grown an inch or two since you last saw him, you notice, standing even taller in his exemplary posture. He still stuck with his long hairstyle, locks styled back sleekly and exposing his defined cheekbones. His skin was even paler than usual, glowing in the dark room. Being a CEO probably meant staying inside a lot, making tanning for his complexion almost impossible.

“Considering you applied to my company, y/n, I figured you’d come to me now as well”

Why was he using that voice around you? You‘d made fun of him numerous times in the past for that deep tone, only coming up when he was trying to woo some girl.

“I didn’t know it was your dumb company”, you start, rolling your eyes in annoyance, “I’m surprised you even remember my name”

“How could I forget the girl I went to prom with?” And took my virginity, you wanted to add but knew he censored his words on purpose. “Also, Sook mentioned your name like, five minutes ago”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about”

His silence was uncomfortable, thickening the atmosphere even more. You saw regret and guilt in his features, lips struggling to find the right words and hands fumbling with his tie.

“I know you’re mad, rightfully so. But please, come over to my place for a drink. For old time’s sake”. The deep voice was persistent and that’s when you realized that Jaehyun wasn’t a teenager anymore. So many years had passed since that summer, enough to mature you both physically and emotionally, yet the wound stung still so freshly.

“You can’t just choose when to re-enter my life so easily”, you huffed and started to walk away from him, when you felt his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

“y/n, please. I’ve missed you. One drink, that’s it”

It was so annoying, you thought as you entered his condo, how his dimples were still so effective at convincing you. It was quite luxurious, definitely bigger than your apartment and by the looks of the fancy furniture, his hard work as CEO surely paid off. 

“You like it?”

“Not as much as your treehouse but it’s okay”, you reply him and he grins at the reminiscence of your old shenanigans as children.

“I’ll bring the wine”

You snooped around a bit more, examining the decorations of his living room. It was quite minimalistic, an abstract painting or two, a weird sculpture, no family pictures in sight. You always hated places like that, so lifeless, so impersonal. Jaehyun had too rich of a personality for that.

He sat on his leather couch, placing two glasses of white wine in front of him and motioning you to sit down as well. You took a seat as far away from his as possible and he winced at the distance you kept, now also turning physical. 

Jaehyun started a conversation by asking you about your work at the company, then moving on to your personal life. You politely answered him, even joked about how single you are. He started recounting the start of his company, how he got the idea to begin from scratch and the hardships that came with it. As it was expected from the bachelor’s vibes his place emitted, CEO position didn’t allow for enough free time for him to meet someone new, let alone something serious. Your little meet up seemed to be going well. Too well to be exact. One glass down and you finally had enough of feigning ‘happy old friends catching up’.

“Why did you bring me here Jaehyun? Really bring me here”

The man sighed at your tone, running his fingers through his hair and messing their gelled-up styling. Getting up from his position, he finishes up his second glass and sits closer to you, body facing yours.

“I guess... I owe you an apology. For back then. I should have told you I’m moving abroad”

“Yes, Jaehyun, you should have. Especially after what we did before you left”

He closed his eyes in shame, glossy after he reopened them. A serious expression darkened his features, looking as solemn as that last night you saw him before his disappearance and hanging from your lips. “Do you regret it? Going through with it?”

“No”, you answer immediately, because it was the truth. All the guys you’ve slept with in your time as an adult, though more experienced than high-school Jaehyun, were missing that one factor that none other than your best friend could offer you. Connection, vulnerability, care. True love.

He sighs, once again, clearly relieved by your answer but still speaking in a bittersweet tone.

“Good, I would really hate myself if you did. I was just, so scared you’d forget about me. I had to know you’d remember me. Then you said this whole thing about wanting to have our first time and-“. You knew it was the wine in his system that caused his rambling. Jaehyun wasn’t one to stumble on his words, definitely not sentimental like that. But alcohol seemed to bring you closer when in need and at the right time so you let it, once again, and you let him finish. “-and you looked so beautiful that I couldn’t help myself. If I knew you’d grow up to look like this I would have never-“

He stopped himself mid sentence, regretting sharing more. You, however, weren’t done with this conversation yet. There were so many years spent repenting your friendship, so many questions running through your head, and you weren’t leaving this room until they got answered.

“If you didn’t want me to forget you that much then why not tell me you got accepted to a university abroad? I was your best friend!”. Your words were emotionally charged, unwillingly making your voice turn up in volume. It was as if you turned back into the little girl crying in her bedroom, finally getting the chance to say all those things she was screaming in her pillow. “I would be so happy for you, I loved you”

“Yes you did! You literally said that every single day!”, Jaehyun yelled back, startling you, “And every single time it was as if you jabbed a knife in my chest! Did you know how much it killed me? To hear this from my best friend I’d been in love with for the past 10 years?”

“You- you were in love with me?”, you ask dumbly, voice light in disbelief, a stark difference from Jaehyun’s a second ago.

He settled his breathing, hands fixing his hair once again in abashment.

“I knew that if I told you I had to go abroad you would get all sad and start crying and I wouldn’t be able to see you like that. I knew that the moment you’d tell me you miss me I would drop everything to be with you. That night that we had sex.. I didn’t plan it but I thought it would be better for you if I made you hate me. And when I saw you again today- it felt like not one day had passed since high school. I didn’t know how to approach you, what to say. I’m sorry”

You sat there in shock, connecting the dots in your brain. All the feelings you were trying to repress around him, the lingering glances and butterflies in your stomach, were reqruited all along. You knew exactly what he meant earlier, about time seeming to freeze. The way he looked at you now, all teary eyed and red and shaking was utterly and overwhelmingly the warm Jaehyun that met you every night after school. And you wouldn’t let another day go to waste.

You lean forward, capturing his lips into a kiss long overdue. It was tentative and you started pulling back when he places both hands on the sides of your neck, keeping you from letting go. His fingertips grasp part of your hair and you lean your face sideways, melting into the kiss and his touch. A lick on his bottom lip and now your tongues were touching, groaning at how much better he got at this and wanting to put his skill to better use. Tugging on his soft locks, he moans and his baritone voice made the hairs on your arms stand on edge.

You moved your hands on his chest, palming the defined muscles and deciding you wanted to treat your eyes, ripping his shirt open in one move. Jaehyun grabs the meat of your thighs, hands gripping the edge of your dress and pulling it upwards until it falls over your head. He dipped into your neck immediately, sucking and nibbling passionately right in the middle, your moans sounding breathless with the pressure he puts on your throat. Trailing down, he left a path of open mouthed kisses, now focusing on the mounds of your breasts that your bra wasn’t covering. A flick of his wrist and the piece of underwear was gone, lips surrounding your nipple, releasing it with a loud pop.

You moan out his name and his growl’s animalistic, nails digging on the softness of your hips.

“Fuck I love that sound”

He probably made it a goal to hear it again as he started kissing on your inner thighs, the bruises he left behind teasing you to the point of begging. You lift you hips to discard the skimpy underwear you chose for tonight, Jaehyun’s breath fanning your clit. A few kitten licks and your back is already lifting from the leather, his hands intertwining with yours to keep you in place.

Practice makes perfect and Jaehyun must have had a lot of it, the interchanging of sucking, licking and spitting on your pussy making you lose your mind in the most delicious way. You were in the midst of murmuring a mix of praises when he finally finds that spot that has you trembling under his tongue. Riding out your high, you grind against his face, the pleasure not leaving any room for shame. Chest heaving and vision restored, you glance down at Jaehyun, looking as irresistible as ever wiping his wet lips and chin.

You were fully prepared and willing to return the favor so you motioned him to stand up, positioning the back of your neck over the hand rest of the couch. After opening your mouth wide he got the point, quickly ridding himself off his pants and boxer briefs, spitting profanities at how hot you looked for him right now.

You were upside down, but you could very well see Jaehyun’s hard and angry cock staring back at you. You always thought that maybe, since he was your first, you might have overestimated his size in your head. But your brain apparently hadn’t manipulated that memory in the slightest because that length and grith would definitely be a challenge for you. And hell, did you want to take it on.

He pushes through your lips, and your tongue is quick to engulf him. Licking up and down his shaft as best as you could, made Jaehyun grip the couch in an effort to keep his knees from buckling from pleasure. The position allowed him to push even deeper inside you, filling up your throat. He places his fingers over the bulge on your throat, watching it itently with every move of his hips.

Your eyes teared up and your throat started to burn but the sounds Jaehyun let out with every thrust made it all worth it. He finally pulls out, a string of saliva and precum landing on your lips and he is quick to to clean you up with his fingers. Collecting the wetness, he pushes his digits inside your mouth, and something changes in his glare, eyes darkening in the most lustful expression.

“I need you inside me”, you mumble with his fingers inside of you and he nods, asking if he should go get a condom. You search through the contains of your handbag, hands trembling with the way he is pushed up agaist you, erection digging in the softness of your ass as he’s nibling the skin on your shoulders. 

You handed him the square foil and as soon as he takes it in his grasp, he pushed you down to the arm rest, back against the cushion and legs in the air. Moving your hand between your legs, you distracted him by playing with your pussy, speading the juices around and pushing your folds apart to direct him to your opening.

The first thrust felt divine, thick cock filling you nicely and making your head fall back in pleasure. Jaehyun threw your legs over his shoulders, eyes glued to yours as he kissed your calves, picking up his pace. The moans started rolling off your tongue, echoing inside the big lounge and accompanied by the skin slapping sound of your bodies.

“I missed your body so much”, he muttered as he gripped your waist, setting an incredible pace that had your feet flexing. You turned your head to the side, catching your reflection on the huge window leading to the balcony. Tits bouncing, Jaehyun’s flexed arms, his dick digging inside you. What a sight.

“See something you like?”, he chuckled darkly and you smiled up at him, grazing your nails over his biceps.

“Show me something to remember you by”

Jae halted his thrusts, turning you over to your stomach swiftly, ass in the air. He kneaded his hands over your ass, giving it a little spank and spread your cheeks apart. Placing his right knee on the arm rest, he dives inside you again, and the moan you let out barely sounded like you. His cock was so deep inside you that you had to close your eyes to relish the feeling of fullness, amplified by the light pain of the stretch. Jaehyun collected your hair in his fist, pulling your upper body against his chest as he wrapped an arm around your own.

“Open your eyes. See how nicely you take my cock. Think you’ll forget that?”, he growls in your ear, thumb digging in your cheek and palm slightly muting your sounds. The dirty talk, his cock grazing against the spot that drove you crazy and Jaehyun’s godly reflection pounding the shit out of you brought you over the edge again. He didn’t let you take any time off, hips continuing to bruise against you as feverly as before, and you thought you just might combust.

“Jaehyun, p-please, it’s too much”, you plead with as much power is left in your system, and he pulls out, only to start rubbing quick circles over your clit that had you thrashing in his arms.

You melt into his arms, a pressing feeling in your belly that you had never felt before and soon you climax for the third time, droplets of cum squirting out of your pussy and dripping onto the wooden flooring.

“This is so fucking hot”, Jaehyun mutters and starts thrusting inside you, trying to coax as much cum out of you as possible.

The waves keep coming, gushing out of you every time he pulls out, until he can’t take the sight anymore, coming with a shiver and a ragged breath.

You were sweaty and exhausted, smiling faintly as he showered you with kisses.

“Let’s get you cleaned up”

You try to stand up futilely, knees wobbling and unable to keep your balance. Jaehyun chuckles at the sight but helps you up like the gentleman he is, moving you to the floor’s bathroom.

You hop in and he joins you, letting the water run down your body and helping you soap up. It was very intimate but comfortable at the same time, his gentle caresses belonging to your skin. Everything felt right.

He was occupied with running his fingers over two hickeys he had planted on you earlier when you snap him out of his thoughts, voice barely audible over the running water.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to lie to me to go study abroad. I think it’s pretty obvious after what we just did that I liked you too, but... I still would have let you move. Force you even.”

“You’re right. I’m sor-“

“I mean it Jaehyun. I’m so proud of you”

His eyes glimmered at your praise, wet eyelashes framing them and fluttering closed as he leaned down, pressing the sweetest kiss on your lips. It left you breathless, almost hurting when he pulled back. You could kiss him forever.

“I know you said I can’t just come back to your life like that but I want to try. I’ve seriously missed you”

“How about taking me to a date tomorrow night? To catch up some more”

He grinned brightly, eyes turning into crescent moons and dimples making your heart burst.

“Wherever you want”, he promised and took a step closer to you, hand snaking down your ass and pulling you against his wet body, “And speaking of making up for lost time... How about a round two?”

[borkthemork]

Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended. 

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

[hangovercurse]

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

[dandelionflower]

(Some salt fic september)

Francois DuPont was an artistic school. With talented students varying from designers, to journalists, to DJs, to comic artists and writers. The art room of the school was always the busiest, the loudest, and the favorite room of the school.

So it would make sense for the school to have a yearly showcase. It was called a talent show once upon a time, but eventually the staff and students agreed that ‘talent show’ didn’t suit the talents the students were bringing to the table. Thus, the Francois DuPont showcase was born.

Students worked for months on their piece for the showcase. More than fifty percent of the works in the art room were pieces for the showcase.

It wasn’t mandatory by any means, but most students with a talent in the arts would participate. But with almost all the students participating and some having more than one piece to showcase, the show usually lasted a few days.

Lila, of course, didn’t know any of that so when asked if she was participating in the showcase in a few months, she grinned and said “Of course!”

Alya lit up. “Great! It’s going to be my first showcase too, and I want someone who knows what I’m going through. C’mon, we have to sign up.” And she dragged her into the halls.

Sign up? But it’s in three months. Lila shrugged and allowed herself to be pulled to the sign up sheets.

Alya immediately wrote her name underneath the ‘verbal’ column, putting a ‘journalism’ next to it.

Lila surveyed the options. The easiest thing to fake would probably be photography, so she marked her name under ‘media’ and wrote a ‘photography’ next to it.

“Ooh, photography? What do you take pictures of? Because I know Mari’s been looking for a partner to take pictures of her designs with her.”

Lila bit back a grimace. “Thanks, but I prefer to take pictures of...” Art? Buildings? “Nature. I find that taking pictures of people is narcissistic as a society.”

“Aren’t you a model?” A judgmental voice came from behind her.

“I- well-“ She stuttered.

“It’s completely different, Felix! Lila doesn’t think her photo shoots are art worthy, she’s just doing it as a job.” Alya snapped, throwing an arm out to almost shield Lila from the chill radiating from Felix’s entire person.

“Very well.” Felix stepped around the two and signed his name in perfect cursive beneath Lila’s name and walked away without another word.

“That guy gives me the creeps.” Alix remarked as she scratched her name under the ‘performance’ column, then the ‘piece of art that cannot be moved’ section.

“And he’s doing photography too! Don’t worry Lila, there’s no way he’s better than you.” Alya grabbed her arm reassuringly and began walking with her back to class.

“Yeah, right...” Lila held in a wince as she found her way back to her seat.

Surely photography can’t be that hard.

—

It was that hard.

Lila had waited one week before the showcase to start taking pictures on her phone. She walked to the park and snapped a few pictures, called it a day, and went home.

They were terrible. Blurry, ugly, terrible.

The next thing she tried was looking up stock images and photoshopping the watermark off.

She was awful at photoshop.

Finally, she resorted to her escape plan.

“Sorry, Alya. But I completely forgot that I’m volunteering at the elementary school all day on the day of the showcase, and I can’t just cancel on them. I’m so sorry.”

“Girl, it’s no problem! Marinette told me that the showcase is going to go on for four days. We’ll just reschedule your slot. It’s no problem at all.”

“Great.” She muttered through gritted teeth. “See you then.”

...crap.

She had only one plan now.

And it was risky.

—

Lila walked into class on Monday, prepared for her showcase.

She explained to Alya that when she explained what was going on to the leader of her organization, they gave her a rain check.

“I’m just so thankful.” She brushed away a tear. “I really wanted to make sure I could see everyone’s talents.”

“That’s so sweet!” Rose cooed. “I can’t wait to see your pictures either!”

“I just hope they correctly portray the beauty of my subject...” Lila pressed a hand to her chest in modesty.

“Students, I need all of the media students to come to the art classroom with your flash drives and cameras.” Miss Bustier put her phone down and smiled. “And anyone who paired with a media student for their talent please also join the students in the art room.”

Lila stood and gave everyone a hug. “Wish me luck!”

She noticed Sabrina stand as well and accept a half hearted hug from Chloe and a nod of support from Max. Juleka stood too and hugged Rose tight.

“Bye Alya! Wish me luck.” Marinette appeared from seemingly nowhere and hugged Alya tight. “And don’t be worried about your presentation. We’ll find some time to rehearse before tomorrow.”

“Thanks girl. Look after Lila for me? She’s just as new as I am.”

Marinette’s eyes darkened for just a second, but she quickly broke into a grin. “No problem. And don’t be worried, Lila. I’m sure your photos are just unimaginable.”

“Thanks Marinette. That’s just so sweet of you.” They linked arms and waltzed out of the room.

The moment they were out of eye shot of any of their classmates, they stepped aside.

“You don’t even have pictures, do you?” Marinette growled.

“What do you mean Marinette? Of course I have pictures.” She smirked. Or at least, I will in just a minute.

—

The art room was bustling and chaotic. Perfect for a camera or flash drive to go missing.

Marinette was bombarded by a group of kids from Felix’s class.

“Ready to see the product of our hard work?” A girl with two dark buns on the top of her head asked.

“I hope so.” She gave them a bashful smile.

Lila stopped paying attention. She had a goal in mind.

Her eyes landed on an expensive looking camera sitting on a desk at the side of the room. A sitting duck.

With a side glance for witnesses, Lila walked right by the camera and slipped the memory card right out and into her awaiting palm.

With her goal met, she sat primly in her chair, waiting for them to be called to the stage.

“Alright, photographers, models, actors, directors!” The art teacher stood. “Let’s go!”

Lila skipped up to him, a look of concern on her face. “Sir?”

“Yes Lila?”

“My camera broke on my way here and all I have left of it is my memory card; is there still a way for me to present my photos?”

“Of course there is. Don’t you worry a bit.”

“Perfect!” She grinned.

Once backstage, each student needed to give the teacher their SD cards or cameras and wait to be called onstage to describe their works to the audience.

Lila spared a quick glance towards the onlookers. Talent scouts of every kind were sitting in plush, reserved seats, notebooks and pens at the ready.

She was the first one up, the first one they would see and, unless she used all of her charisma and improvising skill, the first one they would forget.

“...and now, Lila Rossi with her photography!”

Lila strutted out to the greetings of applause.

“Hello, and let me just say I am so honored to be here today, especially considering that a year ago I wasn’t expected to be able to walk to school every day. Photography was really the only thing that got me through the day.”

A murmur of pity rippled through the crowd.

“Pictures like this one.” She pressed the clicker and a picture appeared on the screen behind her.

A picture of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, mid-twirl in a beautiful hand-made dress.

Lila heard Alya gasp.

“I wanted to show simultaneously the mundanity of walking and the undeniable splendor of it. My dear friend Marinette had some designs she was willing to model for me to help achieve my goal. Marinette, come on out!” She held a hand out, daring Marinette to come out from where she was waiting to go next along with her other friends.

Felix stood behind her with a look of horror and disgust on his face; and a particularly fancy camera hanging around his neck. A very familiar camera.

“No? Okay then.” She turned back to the crowd. “She’ll be out with a different group; Mari doesn’t want me to have to share the spotlight, isn’t she sweet?”

The crowd applauded and Lila continued making up technical terms and thought processes for each photo, all of which were of Marinette in different designs.

“Thank you.” She bowed deep before walking off the stage.

Now to hold her breath and hope that Marinette, Felix and all their friends were too chicken to call her out onstage.

—

“Now, with their short film; ‘solving love,’ please welcome Bridgette Cheng, Claude Lambert, Mercury Bernard, Allegra Harthorn, Felix Culpa, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Hey everybody!” A boy with brown hair and a blue striped shirt grabbed the mic and shouted. “How are we doing today?”

A scattered amount of applause.

“Nice! I’m Claude, and this is Bridgette.”

The girl with the buns waved.

“We were the main idea folks for this video; but the idea only came after the filming.”

Bridgette grabbed the mic. “We asked out friends if we could film them, and then a few weeks ago, we reviewed the film and noticed something... interesting.”

“Allegra here,” a girl with a long blonde braid waved, “did the music and Mercury,” a boy with dark glasses and a green beret, “did the narration. You’ll be seeing more of them soon. My cousin Mari,” Marinette waved, “and Felix are the main subjects of the film. You would have seen more of them, but for some reason Felix’s memory card went missing.”

Lila swallowed, this wasn’t great. The seeds of dissent were planted and now she had to risk either spinning another fake story or hoping that it all went well.

It’s not like they had any proof though; she should be fine.

“Anyway, here’s ‘Solving Love.’”

They all stepped to the side and the video began with a smooth piano.

“Love.” The screen showed couples going up to Andre’s and sharing ice cream. “The answer to everything. To ourselves, to the meaning of life, to the questions we cannot ask.”

“But how? How do we get from complete strangers, to people so close they are the same person?” The video changed to a showing of Marinette and Felix shaking hands, both with sardonic smirks. “People rarely get to see the entire process of when people fall in love; there are always pieces missing, hidden moments only for the people in question to recall. Love is left for the investigator to discover for themselves, when the time is right.”

“But maybe,” it showed Marinette talking animatedly, as Felix yawns beside her, “maybe one day, we’ll be lucky enough to see most of the picture.” Felix’s eyes droop and his head falls to rest atop Marinette’s, in the beginnings of a nap. Marinette flushes red.

The rest of the video shows the stages of Marinette and Felix’s relationship, from sarcastic rivals, to peers, to friends, to partners. The narrator described different relationships and how love is a constant through all of them.

The video showed Marinette dancing, twirling in a brilliant dress as Felix kneels and snaps pictures. “Ah, but is this all of it?” They lean down for a swift kiss. The image pauses there. “The full picture? Or is it only a snapshot,” the screen lights up white, “a minor clue, to solving love?”

The auditorium was quiet for what seemed like minutes. Then, the room burst into uproarious applause; a standing ovation.

Lila growled as she turned to sulk and maybe get her makeup so she could fake an injury and get some pity points to heal her bruised ego.

She ran face first into the grey suit of Mr. Damocles.

“Oh, hello sir.” She beamed. “Is there a problem?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Yes Miss Rossi, there is. Did you take those pictures of Miss Dupain-Cheng? Because that video tells a different story.”

“Yes sir, I swear it.”

“You swear it, huh? Well you best come with me to the office. Miss Dupain-Cheng and her friends will join us when they’re done.”

“What?”

“Miss Rossi, you are accused of stealing Mr Culpa and Miss Dupain-Cheng’s creative work. We will be calling your mother to discuss this.”

Back on stage the crowd of students and talent agents alike had taken to shouting questions to the group of students.

[bestiesenpai]

Possession - Choso ft. Geto

Choso-nii is sweet in his own ways, we have to admit lol this is a non-curse uhmmmm I know Choso is literally like 150yrs old but just so we ALL KNOW: reader is 18+, and femme reader

Content warningssss: infantilization + dumbification, incest, slimy best friend Geto, dubcon, praise, dacryphilia, light choking, degradation, manipulation/gaslighting(i’m not sure which is the proper term for this situation so im just putting both)

Choso was lucky, being the oldest of all the siblings. He had the most life experience, the most time out of all of you to try things out and get shit right. Growing up, he tried to be there for you but he was often much too busy to dedicate the time and effort needed to properly foster a relationship.

Irregardless of that, you still looked up to him and sought him out whenever you could. Hanging out with him in little increments, somehow squeezing in alone time with just the two of you. It was no easy task with as many brothers as you had, but you managed to steal away a precious few seconds with him when you could.

Which is why when Choso moved out, you were utterly devastated. It felt like just yesterday he was helping you pick groceries for a big family hot pot and then the next he was packing boxes and moving into a trendy studio downtown to pursue an art and fashion career.

When he left with the final box you blubbered like a baby, not wanting to be comforted by him because it would only make you miss him more. It hurt him too to see you like that and to know that he could have prevented it if he just simply stayed, but he wasn’t about to hold himself back just to keep the bandaid on a little longer.

As the months ticked by, it agonized you to be left without him. Sure you had your other brothers and you loved them just as much, but it wasn’t the same without him. You texted and called Choso and made sure he kept up with the sibling group chat, but there wasn’t much you could do otherwise.

Until one fateful day, the power went out at the house over the weekend. The maintenance man had told your parents it wouldn’t be on until Monday morning and you were far too quick to snatch up the chance to be the one person that got to go to Choso’s.

“Choso-nii!” You were absolutely buzzing as you threw open the door with the spare key he had left at the house. Finally, finally, you got to see where he lived and spend more time with him. You hadn’t gotten the chance to go to his place yet despite how long it’d been since he moved out; he always said he was too busy working on a project or that he was out too late to entertain you.

Your shoulders dropped dramatically when you realized he wasn’t home. Dragging your small suitcase through the door, you let the disappointment hang on your face at being all alone. Taking your shoes off, you stepped onto the frigid hardwood and took a look around.

His place was modest, he wasn’t a starving artist but he couldn’t afford the large lofts you saw online. Immediately to your left was his small kitchen with only one full sized counter to speak of, to your left was a bathroom covered in slate gray tiles and no bathtub, and in front of you was his living room.

“He decorated pretty well.” Mumbling to yourself, you look around the room. There’s a tiny desk facing the wall shoved into the corner with his computer on top, a decently sized couch next to it and a coffee table with coffee ring stains on it. There’s an area rug your mother got him and hanging on the walls is multiple pieces of art he’d acquired. He’d shown you some when you last video called and all of them were beautiful.

Walking past the mounted TV and gaming consoles he kept was a space divided from the living room with a slatted wood wall. Right behind the wall was his bed, messily covered in blood red blankets, pillows and crumpled sheets. It was probably the biggest piece of furniture in the apartment, and the rest of the room was covered in posters and housed his clothes on open hangers.

Making yourself comfortable, you waited eagerly on the couch for him to come home. You’d already whined through text at him, berating him for not being here to greet you. With the promise of a large takeout meal when he got home, you could only sit and twiddle your thumbs.

“Choso-nii!” Leaping from the couch as the door opened, you were ready to pounce on your brother and smother him in a hug.

“Hey.” He replied gruffly and you stopped short at the looming shadow still behind him. Your smile fell when a man walked in behind him, long inky black hair tied up into a loose bun and a wide stature that made you nervous.

“Hi.” The way his low voice stretched into a higher pitch as he wiggled his long fingers at you, the sleeve of his hoodie dipping down to reveal scrawling black tattoos against his skin, had a shiver going through you.

“H-hi.” Your voice was tiny compared to his and it made him chuckle. Your eyes weren’t even on Choso anymore, glued to the man who was now smiling at you with his eyes half closed.

“How was the trip here?” Choso is suddenly right in front of you, cutting off your line of sight and pulling you into a hug you quickly reciprocate to ease your mind. Your fingers dig into the soft material of his jacket and you can smell a faint trace of nicotine on him.

“It was fine, mom drove me to the station.”

“Good, good.” All too soon he pulled away, rubbing your head affectionately before turning to the guest he’d brought. “This is my friend Geto, we do business together in the fashion district.”

“Ah, this must be the little sister you told me about!” Geto’s brows rose and he let out a pleased hum. “Hi little sister, I’m Geto Suguru.” The way he called you little sister made your face burn, it was like he was mocking you.

“Tell him your name.” Choso grunted and nudged your shoulders.

“I’m (Y/N)...” Licking your lips nervously, your eyes dropped to a spot on the floor.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).” Sliding closer Geto pat your shoulder lightly. “You can call me Geto-nii.” Your eyes widen and snap up to look at him, clearly surprised a stranger would be so casual already. “I want us to get closer, afterall we’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other. I’m one of your brother's best friends.”

“Uhm, o-okay.” Nodding quickly, you meet his dark eyes for a moment before looking at the piercings on his ears. “It’s nice to meet you too, Geto-nii.”

“Hey, what do you want for delivery?” Choso huffs from the couch. He’s surprisingly hands off with your interaction, not even looking at the way Geto sizes you up or how his fingers are close to closing in on your wrist.

“What is there?” Rushing to the couch, you practically fall right into Choso’s lap and nuzzle into his shoulder to look at his phone. Geto stands right where you left him for a moment, taking in the sight of you cuddling up to your brother so closely, before he slinks away into the bathroom.

“Wow, that came so quickly!” Twenty minutes later you’re seated on the floor, pressed against the coffee table as you marvel at how fast the delivery came. “At home it takes at least forty-five minutes!”

“That’s what you get for living in the sticks.” Choso teases, a small uptick to his mouth as he brings the food to the table.

“Shut up!” Puffing out your cheeks, you look up at the game Geto is playing. It’s some online multiplayer shooting game you hadn’t bothered to catch the title of, but the flashing lights and the way Geto got so worked up had you intrigued.

“Fuck yeah, foods here.” Taking a quick glance down, Geto abandoned the game quickly. Tossing the controller onto the couch, he walked to the fridge and dug around. “Choso, beer?”

“Yeah.” He called back, digging out the contents of the bag and spreading it out across the table.

“Did you get me a-” Right as you were about to ask, Choso placed a cold can of soda in front of you.

“Yup.”

“Aw (Y/N), you don’t drink beer?” Geto whined, plopping down across from you with a pout. Handing a tall can to Choso, he cracked open his own and frowned slightly when you shook your head no. “Have you ever tried it?”

You could feel your brother's eyes looking right at you, curious to know the answer too. The truth was, you had experimented with both liquor and weed but you never told Choso. He always warned you not to get into any of that stuff.

“No.” Your cheeks burned as you lied and Choso’s eyes narrowed; he could tell you were lying and the curt sigh that left his lips was evidence enough.

“Really, never? Take a sip then.” Sitting up a little straighter, Choso opened his can and held it out to you.

“No thanks.” Trying to push the can away, you avoided both Choso’s narrowed gaze and Geto’s smirk.

“No go ahead, I insist.” He held the can out staunchly. “Your first time should be with me anyway.” That made your face even hotter and you hung your head, a whine threatening to bubble out of your throat.

“I don’t like it.”

“Hm, how do you know you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?” Geto added, knowingly stirring the pot and hiding his wide smirk behind his beer can.

“I just do!” With a huff your head shot up and you looked at both of them.

“Try it.” Choso said firmly, his eyes now wide and unblinking at you. The whine you’d tried to hold back came out and your shoulders bounced up and down as you spoke.

“I don’t want to, I’ve already tried that kind and I don’t like it!” There, now it was out in the open for everyone to know. Your head dropped again but you could see the way Geto bit his lip hard to stop himself from giggling.

“I thought I told you not to get mixed up with that stuff.” Sighing softly, Choso took a long sip from his beer can and the silence that hung between you was heavy, at least on your end. Your shoulders sagged and you picked up your plate.

“Sorry.” Your voice was so pitiful it made Geto coo.

“What’s done is done.” Choso shrugged and began to dish himself up. “Next time you wanna do that stuff though, come to me.”

“Yeah, your big brothers will make sure you have a great time.” Lightly tapping the table, Geto grinned widely. Digging his phone out of his pocket, he turned on some music. “Now let's eat, I’m starving!”

The air between you and Choso was stilted. He wasn’t angry or disappointed with you, he’d made sure to tell you when he caught you pouting over your food. He just wished you’d come to him first, but you couldn’t help but see past it. Choso was hurt he wasn’t your first choice, and even though he didn’t vocalize it his actions showed it.

“Hey (Y/N), come and play with me.” After dinner Geto had flopped back down onto the couch, his stomach bloated with a food baby.

“Uhm, okay.” Taking a quick glance at Choso who was sitting down at his computer, you nodded. Taking a seat a good few inches away from Geto you picked up the other controller.

“Why’re you so far away, I won’t bite!” He laughed, quickly discarding the thick hoodie he’d been wearing. Your eyes were drawn to the heavy black and grey traditional Japanese tattoos going up and down both of his arms, stopped only by the t-shirt he had on.

“Your tattoos are really cool.” Unable to take your eyes away, you slid closer to him on the couch, body dipping on the cushions as you leaned close to examine them.

“You like them? I have more, lemme show you.” Off came Geto’s shirt and you gasped loudly. He had a whole bodysuit going on, large pops of color on his chest and shoulders going down his sides and disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants.

“Woah, these are so cool!” You couldn’t hide how impressed you were. Your hands ghosted over his skin, drinking in the intricate designs etched permanently into his body along with the rippled muscles underneath his skin.

“Does my little sister have any tattoos?” Geto asked, letting his hair out of its bun and letting the strands fall around his shoulders.

“No.” Choso answers for you, not taking his eyes away from his computer.

“Yeah, I don’t have any yet.”

“That’s a shame, I think you’d look really pretty with some ink.” Running a hand through his hair so he could flex his arm, Geto flicked his chin towards Choso. “I’ve been trying to get this guy to come to my shop to get some work done too.”

“Choso-nii, you should get a tattoo!” After seeing Geto’s you were hooked.

“Hm.” He grunted, casting you a sideways glance over his shoulder. “What should I get?”

“Get something like this!” You gestured towards Geto and Choso finally turned around away from his computer to look fully at you.

“You really think I’d look good with all that?”

“Yes!”

“Ah you heard her, Choso! I’ll book you a consultation with my artist, he’s a great guy.”

“Alright…” Choso’s eyes lingered on Geto for a little while longer before he turned back to his computer. “Sign me up then.” Letting out a victorious little sound, Geto tugged his shirt back on and picked up his controller again.

“Alright, let’s play now.”

It was safe to say that the kinds of games Geto and your brother played were much harder than the ones you played at home. There were far too many character controls to memorize and the speed at which you had to press the buttons was too fast and it hurt your fingers after a while.

“Geto-nii, I don’t like this!” You groaned, slumping against him and the couch cushions as you lost another round of the online game.

“Poor baby, is it too difficult for you?” Geto pouted at you and pat your thigh. Choso had slipped a pair of headphones on, oblivious to the way Geto was speaking to you.

“It is.”

“Here, we’ll go do a practice round and I’ll teach you how to play.” Flicking through the options, Geto found what he was looking for. “Your little brain just needs to take things slow.”

“S’not little.” Pushing his shoulder with a huff, your cheeks burned as he laughed. “Your games are just stupid.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Drawing out the y, Geto loaded up a practice game and hooked his arm around your shoulders, putting his hands over yours on the controller. “Now just try to remember how I do it.”

His arms tightened around you, pushing your chest nearly flush with his as Geto pushed and pulled your fingers insanely fast, pulling off stilted combo moves with your hands. You could barely keep up with what was happening on screen let alone the buttons he was pushing.

“You think you got it?” His mouth was now right against your ear, his voice a low and rumbling whisper. A tiny, strangled noise comes from the back of your throat and Geto can feel you tense up slightly. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you all night if I have to.”

Chuckling darkly, his lips ghost along the ridge of your ear before starting up another game. Your face is on fire and Geto knows, he can feel the heat radiating off your body much stronger than it was before. The subtle shift of your thighs and the way they squeeze together isn’t lost on him, and it only makes him draw you deeper into his lap until you’re sitting pretty on his stretched out legs, head nestled gently on his shoulder while you try in vain to keep up with him.

“Alright I sent the final sketch to Gojo and-” Choso tosses his headphones off and turns around, body stretching and extending up and out, bones cracking and popping loudly in his ears. He stops speaking, gravelly voice suddenly caught in his throat when he sees the two of you together.

It’s been so long since he’s been cuddled up to you like that that the sight of you in his best friend's lap like that makes his mind go blank. Cuddled up with another man, you’re not even playing the game anymore, having given up a long time ago just to simply watch and lightly nap while you wait for your brother to give you attention again.

“Hm? Oh, that’s great.” Geto replies, giving a quick glance to Choso and then to the clock on the wall. “Fuck it’s already 2am? I missed the last train.”

“You know it’s not a big deal for you to crash here.” Choso shrugs and begins to turn off some of the lights that are beginning to burn his eyes. He can’t stand to look at you any longer or the creeping jealousy in his chest will bubble to the surface.

“Choso-nii…” With a big sleepy inhale you arch your back off Geto, pushing your weight into your hips as you stretch and rub your eyes.

“I shoulda had you get ready for bed earlier, you must be beat.”

“Mhmm.” Nodding sleepily, you stand up with help from Geto, his hands placed low on your hips and fingers splayed out on your body. “I’ll be quick.” Shuffling to your suitcase, you take out your sleeping clothes and bathroom essentials before blindly walking to his bathroom.

You can hear a low murmur in the living room as Choso and Geto also get ready for bed. There’s a few chuckles, and you hear Choso snap at Geto for something, and they’re definitely saying your name at parts, but by the time you come out the conversation is done and over with.

“Come sleep with me, little sister!” Geto calls from the couch where he’s set up a makeshift bed and taken all his clothes off except his underwear. There’s a blanket not yet put over his body right next to him, and your eyes are staring right at the tattoos that dip under his waistband and finish on his ankles.

“C’mere.” Choso huffs, snatching your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. Your eyes follow Geto as you walk and you can feel the way he stares right at your bare thighs in your sleeping shorts.

Pushing you onto the bed, Choso climbs in after, flicking off the last light left on and engulfing everyone in a shroud of darkness and city light peeking through the curtains. Frustrated, Choso tosses and turns in the bed and throws the blanket around both of you.

“Goodnight.” You say loud enough for Geto to hear.

“Good night little sister.” He calls back.

“Yeah, night.” Choso grunts and finally slaps his head against the pillows before stilling completely. Slowly, you slide your body closer and closer to him, the touch of your fingers to his bare chest making you shiver.

“I love you, Choso-nii.” You whisper in his ear, wrapping your arms around him and curling a leg right against his sweatpants.

“Love you too.” It takes him a few seconds too long to reply but when he does it makes a delighted grin spread across your face. Hooking an arm around your back he pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and squeezing you tightly before loosening up. “Now go to sleep.”

Sleep comes easily to you, after all you’re in the arms of your brother that you love so much. You used to sleep with him when he still lived at home, crawling in at night after you’d been forced to watch a scary movie and cuddling into him. He could never say no to you even if he was exhausted and just wanted to pass out, he always made time to cuddle you.

Choso was having a much harder time going to sleep. He remembers what it was like sleeping in the same bed at home and he doesn’t remember it being this much of a problem. Sure, he woke up with a half hard cock some mornings that he was able to force away before you woke up, but somehow this felt different.

You were at his house not at the family home. There were no other brothers to barge in and demand breakfast, no parents to poke and prod at him to get up and go to work - this was his space, somewhere he had complete control over and could do whatever he wanted and that included fantasizing about rubbing your ass while you slept and touching himself.

Eventually forcing himself to sleep, Choso was thankful when he woke up to the sound of his alarm and no hard cock. Blindly turning it off, he stretched as much as he could with your body laying on half of him. Slowly inching out of your hold he was greeted with the slimy, sticky feeling of cum soaking the insides of his thighs and smeared along his sweats creating a big wet patch on the front.

“Someone had a nice dream.” Geto said quietly into the early morning darkness. He could just barely make out Choso’s cum stained pants as he walked past the couch and into the bathroom.

“Shut the fuck up.” Choso bit back, ears burning red. Geto fell back onto the couch with a soft laugh under his breath.

When you woke up it was well after Choso had left. The digital clock he used flashed bright red numbers at your bleary eyes, telling you it was now ten in the morning. The bed was cold on the side Choso slept on but you rolled over anyway and breathed in the scent of his pillow.

“Oh my god.” When you got up and out of the bed you weren’t expecting to see Geto still in the apartment on the couch in his underwear wrapped up loosely in a blanket.

“Good morning, sleepy girl.” He hummed over a cup of black coffee, his long hair still tussled from sleep.

“Where’s Choso-nii?” You fidgeted with your fingers, looking anxiously around the room for a hint that he was still here.

“He had to go in early for a project, it’s just you and me.”

“O-oh.” A sickening grin spread across Getos face the longer you fidgeted. “Uhm, I’m gonna use the bathroom!” Rushing past him, you tugged your sleeping shirt down, attempting to hide the goosebumps rising on your thighs.

“I’ll make breakfast!” He called out, helping himself to Choso’s kitchen. You took as long as you could in the bathroom, waiting until he was done cooking to come out. “Hope you like eggs, little girl, because that’s all I know how to make.”

Taking the plate from him, you let Geto place his hand on your lower back and guide you to the couch. The TV was turned on low to some random morning news talking about the weather, and Geto’s hand stayed on your thigh the entire time you ate.

“Thank you for the food.” You said quickly, standing just as fast and going to the kitchen sink. Cleaning up the few dishes left out, you gasped and nearly jumped out of your skin feeling Geto press against your back.

His hands come to rest against the countertop, trapping you between it and him. His broad chest pushed against your back making you bend to accommodate the added weight, pushing your ass into his growing cock.

“G-geto-nii?” Another gasp came from you as his lips pressed against your ear, skimming around it and the sound of his breathing ringing in your head. Planting a soft kiss behind your ear, one of his hands came up to grab your jaw.

“You really are such a cute little sister, you know that?” Bringing your head back and up, Geto kisses your cheek a few times. His fingers splay downwards, grabbing onto a bit of your throat as he kissed the corner of your lips.

Squeezing your eyes shut, a little whimper comes from the back of your throat when he kisses your lips and forces your mouth open with his fingers. Getos tongue slides in effortlessly, like you’d invited him in and told himself to make your mouth his new home. Gliding his tongue over your teeth, his coffee flavored saliva started to drip down the corner of your mouth.

Beating a fist against the counter as you start to get too lightheaded, you’re gasping for air when he lets you fall back, crumpling to the countertop with ragged breathing. Smoothing a hand down your back, Geto goes down past the hem of your sleeping shorts and pushes his hand up under them.

“Geto-nii!” Curling your fingers into the granite, a loud squeal erupts from your chest and you force your body upright.

“Such a perfect fucking ass.” Geto groans, groping your flesh hard. “And no panties? Who knew you were so naughty while you slept.”

“M’not- not naughty!” You pout, turning over your shoulder and shaking your head at him.

“Such a naughty little sister I have.” Taking his hand out of your shorts, Geto lets you turn around and face him. Briefly biting his lip, Geto grabs you by the jaw again and kisses you, this time fully slotting his mouth against yours.

Immediately your hands fly back to catch yourself, the force of his kiss enough to almost make you fall over completely. The hand not holding your jaw snakes under your shirt and goes straight to your breast, giving it a rough squeeze that has your hands going to grip his upper arms.

“Sensitive, are we?” He pulls back slightly, licking his lips and yours and squeezing your breast again.

“It hurts.” Tilting your head back with a whine, your nails dig into his arms.

“Sshh sshh, you can take it, can’t you? Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”

“No.” A heavy pout is back on your lips, but you’re not sure it ever truly left. Geto’s brow quirks at your answer and he smirks.

“No? Why not? Is it because I’m not Choso?” He pauses and the silence that fills the air is all the answer he needs. “Didn’t I tell you last night I was your big brother now too? Hm?” As he speaks with slightly forced words his hand drops to the base of your throat and gets a tad tighter than you’re comfortable with.

“Y-yes but-”

“But nothing.” Geto cuts you off with a sharp press of his fingers against your pulse. Releasing your hold on his arms your hands fly up close to your throat, nerves on edge for what could happen next.

“Be a good little girl and let your big brother take care of you (Y/N).”

“But Choso-”

“Do you think Choso wants an inexperienced little baby who can’t handle having her tits groped a little?” Cocking his head to the side, Geto gives you a look. “Well, what do you think?” You’re at a loss for words and he can tell, a slight uptick to the side of his mouth when you lick your lips nervously.

“I don’t- I don’t know.”

“Exactly, you don’t know. You don’t know any better, so just let Geto-nii take care of you. I’ll get you nice and ready for Choso, baby, don’t you worry.” Closing in on you once again, he kisses you softer this time, lets you ease into the feeling of his lips on yours.

He goes back to touching your breast just as hard as he was before, tugging on your nipple and making you cry out. You tried to tug his fingers off your nipple but it only made it hurt more. Bundling up Geto’s shirt in your hands, you stood against the counter and whimpered as he moved to the other breast.

“Aw, the poor baby’s crying.” He feels your tears on his face before he can see them and when he pulls back he laughs a little. A soft hiccup catches your throat and you unhinge your fingers from his shirt to wipe at the tears that are falling.

“Cause it hurts.” You mumble, a fresh wave of tears springing forth at the same time a warbled cry does as Geto palms both of your breasts roughly. Standing on your tip-toes you try to shimmy away from the overwhelming sensation.

“Who knew you were so sexy when you cry?” Geto isn’t really looking at you, he’s looking at the tears going down your cheeks. It’s making his cock harder by the minute and he leans forward and darts his tongue out, catching the salty stream and running his tongue up your cheek.

“Ew!” Jerking back with a cry, your hands pushing at his bare chest are useless to stop him. Kissing you right at the corner of your eye, Geto finally relents and stands up straight. Furiously wiping your face off, your lip curls in disgust at the feeling of his drying saliva on your cheek.

Planting a hand behind you, Geto shoves his other hand down your shorts. Cupping your sex in his palm, his fingers tentatively prod at your entrance and spread your lower lips with his fingers. His breathing is heavy and right in your ear, heavily entranced with touching your cunt.

Your legs spread of your own accord to let him find your clit easier. You’re still sniffling, a few tears are still welling in your eyes, but a heady feeling is taking over you. The smell of nicotine and a woody body wash roll off Geto in waves, filling the tight space between you and making you flush.

“What a perfect little cunt you have.” Geto groans, his fingers finally catching your clit and lightly pinching it.

“Geto-nii, please.” Your thighs clamp together around his hand when he does it again, the pleasure shooting up your spine almost painful.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Leaning his forehead against you, Geto shoves your legs open again and puts two fingers on your clit. He goes slow at first, savoring the feeling of touching your cunt. There’s a gentle buck to your hips every time he rolls his fingers just right and your fingers are back to gripping his shirt tightly.

Working up the wetness between your thighs, Geto goes down further and nudges your entrance, collecting the slick and bringing it back to your clit. He does this a few times until there’s a distinct wet sound in the air.

“Have you ever had fingers as big as mine in you?” He asks softly as he works his fingers into your cunt, the squeeze of your walls making his head spin.

“No.” That’s the truth and it makes you burn with shame. The only fingers that had been inside you as of late were your own, and even when it was someone else it wasn’t nearly like the stretch you were getting now.

“Right to the fucking knuckle.” Geto grunts, staring right down your shorts at his fingers buried inside you. “You’re so tight I’m surprised you took it all. What a good girl.” He presses a kiss to your temple and pulls his fingers out, stretching the fabric of your shorts as far as it’ll go.

Slamming them back in, Geto wastes no time in fucking you on his fingers. He’d been nice enough to go slow while he played with your clit, but he was tired of it now. He needed to feel your cunt clamp down on his fingers and see you lose yourself from just them alone.

Your mouth hung open dumbly, a gasp caught in your throat at the sudden change of pace. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you couldn’t get any words out as he pounded your cunt. The knuckles of his fingers rubbed against your clit with every stroke, making your legs twitch and threaten to collapse beneath you.

Your orgasm comes before you even know what’s happening, head falling forward and a loud moan finally spilling from your mouth. Grinding your hips down onto his fingers, a jolt goes through you when Getos thumb comes to rub your clit.

“What a good fucking little sister!” He all but cheers for you, grinding his hand on you and pushing in as far as he can to feel every inch of your spongy walls pulse around him. His chest swells with a bit of pride at getting you to cum and he withdraws from your shorts when you relax. Bringing his fingers up to your face, he spread your slick around his fingers. “Look at how messy you are.”

A muffled groan comes from him as he sticks his fingers into his mouth, savoring the flavor of your cunt and rutting against you slightly. It’s a taste he knows he’s now addicted to and his chest gets even bigger at being the first to taste you - something he’s going to hold over Choso’s head for ages.

Just as he’s cleaned his fingers and is about to shove his impossibly tight boxers off, Geto gets a phone call.

“Fuck, right now?” Gritting his teeth he leaves you to slump against the counter as he bounds over to the couch and grabs his phone. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck you!” He rants at his phone before straightening up and clearing his throat. “Hey, what’s up?”

The switch in his tone catches you off guard and your knees knock together when he looks over at you with scarily wide eyes. His nostrils flared as he listened to whoever spoke, he was clearly worked up and being interrupted wasn’t something he was taking lightly.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” Hanging up his phone right after, Geto let it fall from his hands and clatter onto the floor. He didn’t speak any further, only letting out an angry and frustrated groan as he began to collect his clothes.

“What’s going on?” You whispered hesitantly, watching him quickly gather his hair into a bun.

“Fucking work. Fucking- ugh, stupid fucking creative director just had to call a god damn meeting. Doesn’t the bitch know I’m fucking busy?” Getting the last of his things, Geto nearly storms right past you but catches himself at the last moment. “Hey.”

“Hm?” You look at him just in time for him to plant a heavy hand on the back of your neck and kiss you one last time, hard enough to leave your head spinning.

“I got your number from Choso’s phone, make sure to text me back, little sister.” The words rush out of him as he pulls away and you barely understand them but nod all the same. Slipping his shoes on, Geto opens the door and turns to you one last time. “See you later, little sis.”

“B-bye Geto-nii.” You wave goodbye, cheeks flushing at the bright smile he sends you before slamming the door closed and running down the corridor.

It takes far too long for you to push yourself away from the counter after his footsteps have disappeared entirely. The realization of what just transpired hit you, a dull ache throbbing between your legs as you walked to the couch. Your chest tightened up at the memory of how Geto treated you and the feeling of his hands lingered on you.

Checking your phone, there’s a few messages waiting for you. One from your mother asking how your day was going, a few from your brothers and one from Geto.

(Geto): I miss your pretty pussy already little sis

Attached to the message is a picture that makes waves of embarrassed heat go over your body. It’s taken in a bathroom stall at the closest station, the harsh fluorescent lighting casting weird shadows on Getos body. But that’s not what your focus is on, not at all.

What you’re looking at is his hard cock, flushed a deep angry red at the tip and sticky with precum. Geto hiked his shirt up and shoved his pants down on his thighs, the selfie just catching the way his shirt is tucked into his teeth.

He sends you another message, a video this time with a dark thumbnail. You click on it with no hesitation, heart thumping loudly in your chest and ears ringing as the video comes to life.

“Fuck, look what you did to me baby girl.” Geto’s gruff voice is low and hushed, the sounds of other men coming in and out of the bathroom drowning out his soft groans. The camera is held from a down angle right by his head, directed straight at his hand working his cock over in his fist.

There’s a faint wet clicking sound and you can see the way Getos cock glistens in the light. With his mouth right by the receiver you can hear every little grunt and whimper that leaves his mouth and it makes your thighs clench together tightly, cunt aching to be filled by his fingers again.

The hard muscles of his stomach were shuddering with every downstroke, a slight rock to his hips beginning to take form the longer he went. Geto was very wound up, the playtime with his new little sister cut far too short.

“Wish it was you touching me, I’d cum so fast.” His words come out a hushed whisper and the camera shakes as he begins to really fuck his fist. “Just want your cute little mouth wrapped around me-” Geto’s voice was getting higher strung the more he spoke. “Your cunt felt so good around my fingers- want it- need it on my cock-”

Geto nearly dropped his phone as he came, angling his cock up so it shot onto his stomach, painting his tattooed skin in a sticky film of white. A long moan left him and you could practically see him squeezing his eyes shut tightly, fucking his fist through his orgasm until his cock started to get soft.

The video ends without anything else, screen turning black the second he lets go. You don’t realize how tightly your body has wound up from the video, thighs clenched tightly together and a breath caught in your chest.

(Geto): you like it? I bet you’re touching yourself right now, huh?

(Geto): I’m getting on the train now, hopefully Choso will let me come over again tonight after I tell him how good you taste

(Y/N): no don’t tell him!

You frantically send that message a few times but Geto doesn’t respond, just leaves you on read as soon as the message is sent. Despite the heat between your legs your heart starts to pound for a different reason, hands shaking with fear that Geto really will tell Choso what he did to you.

An hour has passed of you sitting on the couch stewing in worry and the sound of the door opening is what brings you out of your stupor and you almost fling your phone across the room in shame. Choso appears in the doorway with a somber expression on his face, giving you a long look as he toes his shoes off.

“Still in your pajamas I see.” He comments, voice low and even. You nod, still unable to speak with the image of Geto milking his cock still fresh in your mind. Walking further into his apartment Choso stifles a sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

“Why’re you here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” You avoid meeting his steeled gaze, instead focusing on your phone and trying to hide your guilty expression.

“Came home early, thought we could have some lunch together in a cafe before I head back.” Choso’s words are casual but his body language is anything but. With a tight jaw and arms crossed over his chest, you can tell he’s upset.

“What’s wrong?” Your blood begins to run cold as you ask and Choso scoffs, brow quirking in annoyance.

“Why don’t you tell me?” He’s staring directly at you with an unmistakable fire in his eyes. No air fills your lungs as you’re locked into staring back at him, but dread drips slowly down your back. Geto must have told him, that’s why he’s making that face.

“I-I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shaking your head, you move to stand. “I’ll go get changed.” Choso watches you almost run to the bedroom and once you’re there he makes his move.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, huh?” He leans his body against the wall, blocking you from leaving.

“I don’t!” Your voice is getting more defensive by the minute. “I have no idea, Choso-nii.”

“Did he tell you to lie? It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend anymore little sister.” Walking chest to chest with you, Choso stares down his nose at you.

“I’m not lying!” You can feel yourself breaking down, the tension in the air enough to make a painful burning prick behind your eyes and tears threaten to mist your lashes.

“I thought you loved me? Yet you won’t tell me the truth.” Narrowing his eyes, Choso’s hands curl into fists. “Or do you love Geto-nii more now?”

“I don’t love him!”

“No, you must love him otherwise why would you let him touch you like that? Just tell me the fucking truth (Y/N), you care more about Geto now that he made you cum.”

“I don’t-”

“Shut up yes you do. I can’t believe you turned into a stupid little slut who lets anyone touch her.”

“Choso-nii!” Now tears are welling in your eyes the longer you look at him.

“Don’t call me that anymore, I don’t want a little sister like you anymore.” Those words stabbed you right in the heart and Choso could tell by the way a choked gasp came from you. “When I moved out you told me you’d wait for me but I guess that was a lie.”

“I’m sorry!” Tears are falling down your face with no remorse, snot starting to drip out of your nose as well. Gripping Choso’s hoodie in your hands, you refuse to let go as he gives you a hard push. “B-big brother, please!”

“Geto’s your big brother now, not me.”

“No, no he’s not! You are! You are and I love you and I’m sorry!” Bouncing your toes, you wrench your arms around his neck and force him against you. “I didn’t mean to- to do all that.” Choso manages to fling one of your arms off of him and you let out a screech. “No, please!”

“What a good act you’re putting up right now.”

“Big brother!” Burying your face into his hoodie, your nails are nearly clawing through the fabric to feel his skin underneath. “I-I’ll do anything, please don’t do this!”

“You’ll do anything? Is that what you told Geto?”

“No!” Pulling back with horribly blurry vision, you blink fat tears down your cheeks. As your gaze slowly focuses on Choso you’re met with his hollow blank expression. Your chest is heaving as you try to calm down, try to find some other words to say to convince him not to abandon you.

Face unbearably hot and mind clouded with emotion, you lurch forward and push your lips onto his. The kiss is awkward, the angle at which you came at him making your noses bump together uncomfortably.

“Please, please, please.” You beg against his lips, your tears staining his face from how close you are. “Don’t be mad, please.” Kissing him all over his face, you don’t feel his expression change.

“Tell me where he touched you.” Choso says, effectively pushing you away from him in one go.

“What?”

“Tell me where he touched you.” He repeats, pushing you to the bed. Your knees buckle as soon as they meet the mattress and you fall down across the messy sheets. Stripping off his hoodie and pants, you can see the outline of his cock when his shirt moves.

“He…” You begin, but stop as Choso sinks both knees into the mattress and straddles you.

“Go on.” He grabs your chin and forces your head to tilt up.

“First he kissed me.” One of your hands comes up, gesturing to all the places on your face where he kissed you.

“With his tongue, too?” Choso’s eyes dart around your face and he grimaces when you nod. “Bastard.” Gripping your chin harder, Choso leans down and kisses your wet cheek, the tip of his tongue lightly grazing your skin to drink in your tears.

“Choso-nii!” Squirming as the slimy appendage follows along with his lips, you yelp when he gets to your ear and licks there too.

“Geto was right about one thing - you’re fucking hot when you cry.” Blowing cool air over your ear, he goes back to your lips. They’re much drier than Geto’s but you like it, let his tongue in immediately when he pushes it in.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer. Your mouths slot together, drool beginning to drip down your face as Choso pushes more of himself on you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he ruts into your shorts, his cock coming to life.

“Where else?” His voice is raspy when he pulls away and he doesn’t go far.

“Here.” You shake your shoulders side to side, making your breasts move under your shirt. Choso hikes your shirt up over your breasts, your nipples already hard and waiting for him.

“Look at you, my pretty little sister.” With an unwavering gaze, Choso smooths his palms over your breasts. “Geto really touched you here with his dirty hands?”

“Y-yeah, he was too rough. It hurt a lot.” Choso nodded as you spoke, running soft fingers over your nipples and taking them gently between his fingers.

“Geto is a big meanie, hurting my baby like that.” He chided and leaned down to plant a kiss between your breasts. “I told him to be gentle too.” Choso begins to pepper kisses all over your chest. “He promised he’d wait until we got back home from work but the bastard just couldn’t help himself, huh?”

“What?”

“Geto and I wanted to give you a gift tonight but it seems he was unable to wait.” Cupping your breasts, Choso flicked one of your nipples with his tongue making you jump. “I told him he had to wait for me to be there, I know how rough he can get with girls. And it seems I wasn’t mistaken.”

Kissing you before you have the chance to really think about the words he said, Choso gropes your breasts softly. It’s a stark contrast to how rough Geto had been, when Choso rolls your nipples between his fingers you don’t try to get away.

Littering kisses down your neck, Choso sucks on your nipples gently, grazing them with his teeth and running his hands up and down your sides. With every pleasurable wave that goes through you, you buck your hips up into his, the feeling of his hard cock brushing against you making you more excited.

“He touched you here too, I know that.” Choso says with his mouth pressed against your chest, his hand pushing between your bodies to cup your sex through your shorts. “Was he rough here, too?”

“A little.”

“Geto-nii really is just a big jerk, isn’t he?” He asks you with a soft smile, running his other hand over your face and cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, a big meanie.” You pout up at him, nuzzling your cheek into his hand.

“I’ll make you feel all better, don’t worry baby.” Unraveling his body from yours, he nudges you up the bed. “Take your clothes off and put your head on the pillow, get comfortable for me.”

You immediately do as he says, stripping yourself bare in record time. Choso steps back to take his clothes off as well and his cock slaps against his stomach when he takes off his underwear.

Crawling back onto the bed, Choso falls face first between your legs, catching himself on his elbows. He’s directly facing your cunt, his nose is so close he wouldn’t need to lean far at all to put it on you.

“Choso-nii.” Your head falls back with a sigh against the pillows as he runs his hands over your inner thighs, spreading your lips and exposing your leaking cunt for him.

“What a pretty fucking pussy you have, Geto was right about that too.” Blowing air onto you, he chuckles softly when your hole clenches around nothing. Leaning forward, Choso places a gentle kiss on your clit and your thighs nearly clamp around him.

“Choso!” A hand flies down to grip his hair as his lips wrap around your clit, his thumb pulling back the hood. The action is enough to make your thighs wrap around his head, your hips bucking high off the bed the longer he runs his tongue over you.

Choso doesn’t mind the squeeze, he welcomes it in fact and wraps an arm around your leg, pulling you closer to his face. A series of heady pants leave your mouth, eyes rolling back when he gives a brief, sharp suck.

Letting go of your clit, Choso pushes his face deeper into your cunt and worms his tongue inside you. Lapping at your walls Choso groans as you tighten around his tongue, your essence flowing into his mouth that he swallows eagerly. There’s drool beginning to pool on his lower lip, dripping down the crack of your ass and staining his bed.

Getting drunk off the taste of your cunt, Choso ruts against the bed as he fucks you with his tongue. More groans come from deep within his chest and when your hips buck up into him he rides the motion, encouraging you to do it more.

Going back to your clit, Choso wiggles two fingers between your legs and pushes them deep inside you. His fingers aren’t as long as Geto’s but they’re thicker, stretching you in a way the other man simply could not. The rough calluses on your brothers fingers served him well, the extra friction on that special spot inside you making you keen.

“Go ahead and cum, (Y/N), use me for your pleasure.” Choso’s breathless as he speaks, forcing his head up from the vice grip you’re holding him in.

“Choso-nii, please-” Your entire back is arched high off the bed, your hips canting up to fuck yourself on his fingers. Choso bites his lip and watches your face contort for a moment before diving back down and honing in on your clit.

His fingers inside you go slower than Getos, milking the feeling of your walls around him for as long as possible. The pace is almost unbearable and not enough, but his mouth on your clit makes up for it.

As you cum the hand grabbing Choso’s hair tightens, pushing his face deeper into you as you ride out the waves. A loud, unabashed moan comes from you, whatever neighbors are home next door have definitely heard it. Choso fucks you through your orgasm, mouth going down to catch your release.

When your body finally relaxes is when Choso comes up from between your legs. His face is smeared with his spit and your slick and he wipes it off on the back of his hand, catching his breath as he moves over you and hooks your legs back around his waist.

“Are you ready, baby?” The tip of his cock is dragging up and down your slit, making the growing fuzziness in your head even stronger. You nod, eager to have him inside you. “Use your words.”

“I’m- I’m ready.” You speak with a heavy tongue, arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders in an attempt to get him closer. Satisfied, Choso pushes in with little resistance, his cock gliding in easily with the amount of slick you have.

“Fuck-” He chokes as he bottoms out, a delicious shiver running through him. Chosos cock is thick like his fingers are, stretching you out and making you squirm. Panting and heaving, he draws out halfway and pushes back in with the wet squelching of your cunt around him.

“Big brother!” Your nails dig into his back, hips rising to meet his slow thrusting. His back bows deeply, trying to keep as much control as he can over himself. All Choso wants to do is sit back and pound into you, make you cream all over him and maybe even squirt.

But he takes his time, working his cock into you at a nice and even pace. He has a point to prove, that he’s better than Geto and that he’ll treat you better. He knows he will, knows he can, but he needs you to know it too.

Digging your feet into his lower back, you huff. Being fucked by Choso is better than you could ever imagine, the veins on his cock dragging across your walls wonderfully, but you need more. This slow pace can only keep you satisfied for so long.

“Getting impatient?” Choso chuckles, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. Curling his fists into the pillow beneath you, Choso snaps his hips into yours. “I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry.”

Choso slowly increased the speed of his hips, the slapping of wet skin against skin getting louder and louder. The control he had was slipping away with every thrust, his lip caught tightly between his teeth as he watched your eyes roll back.

“Choso-nii, ah- ah-” The moans coming out of your mouth were so pretty Choso held his breath to be able to hear them better. He tried to keep his head upright to stare at you, but the drag of his heavy cock inside you was making it impossible.

Dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck, Choso kissed and sucked on your flesh as he fucked you. Your body rocked with every thrust, a moan spilling out every time he bottomed out and nails dragging down his back.

“Take my cock so fucking well-” Choso panted, grabbing under your ass to angle your hips higher. “My lil sis so good to me-” His head was clouding up from pleasure and his words dissolved into babbles.

Chosos teeth scraped against your neck as he spoke, adding to all the sensations washing over you. You moaned right along with what he was saying even though half of his words didn’t make it to your ear, muffled by his mouth pressed against your neck.

A squeal ripped through you as Choso clumsily rubbed your clit, making you tighten around him even harder. He growled deep from his chest, it was becoming almost impossible to drag his cock out of you.

“Choso-nii! I’m- ah-” Tears pricked your lashes you squeezed your eyes so hard together. The pleasure was coming to a head, making your ears ring and mouth fall open in a perfect O. Strained moans broke through, echoed by sharp gasps of air you forced into your lungs.

At the sound of you coming undone, Choso came as well. His hips went even faster, chasing the high for as long as he could. Your cunt gushed around him, mixing with the seed he was pumping into you and creating an even bigger mess on his sheets.

Choso slammed his lips onto yours, desperate to take as much as you could give him. His fingers didn’t stop moving on your clit until you feebly pushed his hand away, and that’s when he knew he could slow down.

“I love you.” Choso says immediately after he stops moving, his body buzzing with happy hormones and a drunken smile is on his face.

“I love you too!” You reply quickly, still trying to catch your breath. Choso stays buried inside you until his cock goes soft and then he pulls out slowly, watching his cum string along his cock and keeping the two of you connected.

“You did so well for me.” He mused, falling to your side and closing his eyes. He’s already pulling you into a side hug before he can even think, throwing the blankets over the two of you to keep the chill from evaporating sweat away.

You lay quietly together, catching your breath and sharing soft kisses together. Your heart is absolutely full of love for Choso, and a smile threatens to never leave your face. It strains your cheeks and makes them ache but you don’t try to push it away.

“How about we get some lunch now?” Choso asks after twenty minutes.

“Okay.” Nodding softly, you make no move to get up from his hold, instead curling into him even more and staying there for another few minutes.

“Alright, let’s really get up now.” Rocking back and forth, Choso rolls on top of you for a moment before rolling completely off the bed. “I’m fucking starving.”

You get dressed after Choso cleans his cum from between your thighs, giving you soft kisses on your stomach and hips as he does so. He keeps an arm around you the entire time, never letting you stray too far from him as you walk to the front door.

“Oh, and (Y/N)?” He stops right as you open the front door.

“Yes?”

“Give me your phone, I’m blocking Geto’s number and deleting those fucking nudes.”

[skellebonez]

You asked for more Macaque and Mei, and I shall request more! Possibly from my Parents and Kiddos au with 7 and 36? And you get to decide if this is before or after Macaque decide that this kid is his kid

Yeah so... remember how I told you to remember a very specific piece of art for this au you drew? It gave me a bit of an idea that probably does not fit in the timeline of how Mac took Mei in, but this is my personal take on how he could have decided he couldn't just leave her because he cared too much now.

Warning: short scene of a young child being reminded of a traumatic event unintentionally and by accident, it is very vague while the child is in no danger and quickly helped, but it should be warned for.

Stop acting like a child!/Did you honestly think that was going to impress me?

"Oh... Please, small human, for 3 more minutes stop acting like a child!" The person sitting across from Macaque at the table muttered out, pulled out of trying to focus on their conversation by the small human in the room jumping on the bed. Macaque had half a mind to kick them out then and there, had he not needed the payment they were discussing to afford the room for another night.

"I am a child!" Mei responded quickly, tone terse and tight and more frustrated than a child her age should have to sound like. But Macaque couldn't blame her, stuck in the hotel room and having to listen to two adults (who she did not realize were demons discussing... business in vague terms) with little to no entertainment thanks to the TV being off for this meeting. "Maybe if you did more of your magic tricks I'd be less bored!"

"A-ah... right... my apologies," The person said quickly, sighing as they realized their mistake. While they sat with the appearance of a slightly elder woman in a black and white suit with brilliant red eyeliner to Mei, Macaque could see them for their true appearance through the glamor if he tried. Her disguise would have been a futile effort had Mei not believe the wind based magic she used earlier in their meeting to be a human magic trick and the woman a magician. The crane demon turned back to Macaque, a seemingly genuine apologetic smile on her face as she lowered her voice as much as possible. "I forget small humans are always still children."

"As long as everything is cleared," Macaque replied, watching from the corner of his eye with a smile as Mei curled into a ball and bounced one last time with a laugh before grabbing a book he had... "purchased" for her and sprawling out on the bed to read it. He hated to admit it, but the kid had grown on him. Just a bit.

"Oh yes!" The demon woman said with wide smile, pulling a card from her suit coat pocket. "Here, all the money has been loaded onto here. My brother insisted on a more substantial sum, given the job, so there are more yuan on there than you expect." Generosity for what he did was not exactly commonplace, so more than likely it was a bribe. "Keep your trap shut, Macaque" or "please don't come back and kill us" most likely. Not that he would go out of his way to do the later. Not now. The demon cleared her throat, holding out her hand. "The... you know?"

Macaque did know, pulling out a tiny scroll from a nearby bag to hand to her. It was simple, some kind of spell that could be used against her family specifically, and he watched as she looked at it with disgust.

"You have no idea the trouble you have saved my family, Six-Eared Macaque," she said, pulling out and adhering a sticker of some kind to the scroll. He'd never seen something like it before, but he wished he had taken a second to ask what she had been doing when the scroll immediately burst into flames that were held in place by her wind magic.

The effect was instantaneous. The scroll was engulfed in flame, disappearing and out in seconda. Macaque shot up to his feet. And despite his hopes she had actually been paying attention to her book enough to be distracted, Mei screamed.

He had to rush quickly to stop her running into the table to get to him, tears streaming down the young girl's face as she wrapped her arms and legs around his neck and torso immediately. She screamed and wailed into his neck, muttering "no"s into the fur that had sprouted up as his glamor fell away. She was too afraid to notice.

"Wh-what!?" The crane demon shot to her feet, worry and confusion on her face as she went to take a step forward only to be met with a deep grown and bared teeth from the monkey demon. "I-I just wanted to show you what I had designed! Is she-?"

"Come anywhere near her and I'll gouge your eyes out!" Macaque hissed in fury, raising a clawed hand to the back of Mei's head in the hopes to comfort her. He'd seen this happen before and he knew that she was not listening to him. "Did you honestly think that was going to impress me? Get out. I don't want to see your face anywhere near here for the next few days. If I do you'll have a worse fate than that scroll."

The crane demon stood up straight, face falling into a grimmace. "Y-yes, Six-Eared Macaque..." she turned, making her way to the door before pausing and looking at Mei with a frown. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry. Had I known that would frighten the child I would have waited."

He simply growled at her, ears flared and teeth bared at her until she left and he heard the clicking of the door locking behind her. He waited, listening to her footsteps rushing down the hotel hallway before he sighed shakily and backed up to sit on the bed with Mei still curled around him.

He made a mental note then and there to not only find out what those stickers were (which meant talking to the crane demon again, he did not look forward to that), but to also never allow Mei to be in the room during negotiations with demons again. Even telling them not to use fire around her was too much of a risk. Too much...

As Mei's crying softened against his neck, Macaque sighed and gently rubbed her back and muttered to her that it would be alright. There was no flame. The fire was gone. She was safe. He purred softly, the rumbles hopefully doing something to ease her fear.

It had been an inevitably that Mei would have an aversion to fire, Macaque had known this in the back of his mind the moment he saved her. Regardless of how much or little of the house fire that had taken her parents from her, the one he had rescued her from, she remembered or actually saw. Perhaps, in time, she would be less afraid. Maybe not afraid at all, given the right help in the future. But for now all flames larger than a lighter or kitchen stove horrified the young girl, making her scream and try to escape as quickly as possible. Escape to him so he could save her again.

"Are you going to leave me behind again?" Mei asked quietly as her tears slowed after a long while of crying her heart out, hiccuping softly. Macaque quickly put his glamor back up and ceased the now almost imperceptible demon purrs, not wanting her to learn of his demon form as she finally pulled back from the koala tight grip she had on him. "Please don't leave me behind this time..."

Macaque felt like a knife had been driven into his chest. When he had first saved Mei from the fire he was certain that he would just find someone to shove her at and be done with his good deed. But Mei kept coming back, not wanting to leave his side. He supposed at the time it was understandable, given what had happened, and after a time he had stopped trying to leave her behind the way he had been. He hadn't quite taken her in proper but he let her stay by his side, for the moment. And over time she'd grown on him. Now...

"I'm not going to do that," he said softly, ruffling her hair with a frown as he pulled her into another hug. "Not like that."

"What?" The young girl looked up at him as if she hadn't expected him to agree. "You mean... you're really gonna stay?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, looking away as more tears continued to fall from her eyes. He wasn't used to this, had never actually wanted kids... at least... he thought he had never wanted kids. "I'll stay with you, happy now?"

He made his tone light, joking almost though his words were truthful. He'd learned over his short time taking care of Mei that she was smart and could pick up on sarcasm and jokes quickly. And she seemed to pick up on the light tone of his voice quickly.

"Really?" She asked in a hopeful tone.

"Yeah yeah, but you gotta stop the water works kid," he said with a smile, turning back to wipe away the tears from the corners of her eyes with his shirt sleeve. "Or you're gonna run out of tears and shrivel up like a raisin."

"No I won't," Mei countered with all the assurance of a doctor telling a patient they would live, a chuckle escaping her as she wrapped her arms around his neck in another hug. "... thank you..."

Macaque almost told her not to thank him for doing what he should have probably done a long time ago. But instead he held her close, tucking her head under his chin as he tried to hold back the comforting purrs that threatened to raise up again and reveal himself.

He made another set of mental notes as she quickly fell asleep against him and he tucked her into bed before sitting up beside her with a book of his own (thankful he could see well enough in the dark) to distract his racing mind. He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, really stay and not just cheap hotel rooms to hop from. He needed to find someone who could help her with what had happened, no more beating around the bush she needed more help than he could give. He needed to take precautions to make sure she would be safe, just in case given who he was.

Everything else... well. He was never too old to learn how to do new things for his... daughter. Yeah. His daughter sounded right he supposed. He'd be able to play it by ear.

He had 6 of them after all.

[deadorcaffeinated]

Sparks, Pt. 4

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Chapter Summary: You get ready to confront the God of Mischief. But are you ready for that?

A/N: Finally, a bit more Loki.

TW: Eating

After a year consisting mostly of isolation and non-consensual experimentation, it was strange, to say the least, to have people actually give a shit about your well-being.

Shortly after Fury called the meeting to a close, Nat took you to a sort of staff room, oddly normal for a ship like this. State of the art, but with all the basic workings of a regular office’s staff room.

“You must be starving,” she said, pulling some things out of an impressive reach-in refrigerator. “Sandwich? I make a mean ham and cheese.”

Your stomach suddenly let out a worrying growl, and you winced.

“Sounds fantastic, actually,” you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten. The lab hadn’t exactly been feeding you five star meals.

A comfortable silence settled into the room while Natasha assembled the sandwich. The quiet sounds of her work lulled you into a sort of trance, as you stared at the wall, and definitely didn’t think about how an agent of a secret organization was preparing you lunch on a giant aircraft carrier thousands of feet in the air which was also occupied by two gods, a historic super soldier, and the most famous tech genius in the world.

No. You didn’t think about it at all.

She presented you with her finished product and a glass of water with a flourish, which also included a bag of chips and an apple. “It might be too much, so only eat as much as you want. It’s better to take it easy when your stomach isn’t used to meals like this.”

You nodded and gave her an expression which you hoped looked more grateful than grimace. Truth be told, you were holding back emotion as even this small kindness felt overwhelming after the past year.

But as you picked up the sandwich to take a bite, a heavy set of footsteps stopped at the door.

It was Thor, his large frame standing almost sheepishly in the doorway. “Apologies for interrupting. May I speak with you?”

To your surprise, the question was for you, and after a nod, Nat touched your wrist and said, “I’ll be right outside. You can have the room.”

After she exited, Thor approached your table with a sort of caution.

“Oh, sorry, uh, would you like to sit down?” You stuttered lamely, when noticing his hesitation.

He nodded and did so, dwarfing the chair and the table. You hadn’t really taken the time to notice before, how huge his arms and shoulders were. A single bicep was larger than the size of your own head.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal. You need your strength,” Thor said, eyes flicking to the plate. “Especially if you’re going to be facing my brother.”

Ah. That.

“Is that…” You were still having a bit of trouble processing the identity of who you were talking to. “Is that what you wanted to speak with me about?”

“Loki’s always been deceptive. I just wanted to warn you not to listen to anything he says, especially not at face value. He will try to distract you, deceive you, and it will seem he knows more about you than he should.”

As he spoke, you noticed he kept eyeing the potato chip packet next to your plate. You pushed it towards him, and he gratefully accepted, popping the bag open and nervously munching on its contents.

You hummed in thought. “I understand. Maybe it would help to know what kinds of abilities he has? What sort of tricks he’s able to pull?”

Thor seemed to relax slightly, having something to occupy his mind and hands. He regaled you with a few anecdotes of how Loki had used his magic to trick him, some from their childhood, and some more recently.

You found yourself both more reassured and more nervous, afraid there might be something you would miss allowing Loki an out. Or a way to hurt you. But all of that aside, it was almost fun to converse with Thor like this… being nearly immortal led to having many interesting stories to tell, and the more he told the more animated he became. He even had you laughing at some points.

“Thank you,” he held up the empty chip bag. “I haven’t had these since my last visit to Earth. A favored Midgardian dish, if I recall.”

You smiled. “No problem. And thank you for warning me. I know it must be difficult to... fight with family like this.”

“Yes,” a sad half smile lifted one side of his lips, “I’m afraid that is something I am still coming to terms with.”

Before he rose from his seat, Thor clapped you on the shoulder. “You know, you remind me of my first Midgardian friends. I believe they would like you. One of them zapped me with a small device that even mimics your powers.”

With that strange but kind remark, Thor left the room.

….

Natasha said she had things she needed to attend to, but that you were welcome to walk around as you pleased, and to just be careful not to stumble into anything that looked even mildly secret or dangerous.

So you aimlessly wandered the giant airship, mostly in an attempt to walk off some nerves. You tried to memorize your paths, memorize the turns and rooms, but after a while you realized just how much you’d fucked up. It was a fruitless endeavor, and you eventually found yourself quite lost.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself.

You turned the way you came, but as you did so, something shifted in the corner of your eye. Whipping frantically towards the movement, you felt your body tense like an animal being hunted, and thoughts of the masked man from the labs flooded your mind.

No, he couldn’t be here. Your mind was playing tricks, your anxiety was getting the better of you.

“My, my,” a silvery voice said into your ear. “You are jumpy, aren’t you?”

Reeling back, you slammed into the opposite wall, nearly knocking yourself out with the force of it. You still didn’t see the source of the voice.

“What is the reason for this skittishness, I wonder?”

Loki.

He materialized in front of you, and you froze like a deer in the headlights. He rolled his eyes. “Calm yourself. This is not an escape attempt.”

You did not find that convincing.

“This is merely a projection. My real body is still in that cell… Here, see for yourself.” His right hand swept out to beckon to you, palm up.

Did he want you to… touch him? Your earlier conversation with Thor filtered through your head, and you knew it would be a bad idea. You did not move. Again, frustration showed on Loki’s creased brow.

“Fine, look.” Then, through a wall of solid steel, Loki passed his hand as if he were just a hologram.

“What do you want?” you asked abruptly.

He looked faintly surprised that you had spoken, but schooled his expression quickly. “I want to know more about you.”

“What?” It was your turn to be surprised (not that you’d stopped since he materialized from nowhere). “Why?”

“It’s not every day I meet a mortal who can withstand an Infinity Stone’s power,” he chuckled, as if that were clearly obvious.

Your blank stare must’ve clued him in to the fact that the significance of this ‘Infinity Stone’ was lost on you, because he only sighed.

“Rest assured, it’s not something a normal human should be able to do,” he said. “So… what is different about you?”

He stepped closer, and though you knew he couldn’t touch you, you recoiled further into the wall. His stare was piercing, and he clearly enjoyed that it made you squirm.

Finally you mustered up the courage to respond. “I’ve already told this story once today,” you said, sounding more like a petulant child than you meant to.

“Touchy subject?”

“It’s not particularly fun to talk about, no.”

He didn’t move any closer but didn’t relinquish you your space either. He just studied you as if he could discern your entire history from your visual being.

You wondered if you should just turn and walk away, or if he had some way of stopping you. Even more unexpected though, was the realization that you wanted to talk to him, that maybe this conversation could help you in your real life encounter that was to happen soon.

“Why did you approach me in the pub?” you asked, and though it wasn’t the answer he apparently wanted, he looked pleased that you were engaging him now. “I was curious.”

“And when you blasted me with the scepter?”

“I wanted to see what would happen.” He shrugged, as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

“And now that you have? What do you want?”

A beat of silence. Then, “What do you think?”

You thought, if he had had a plan before, your presence must have thrown quite the wrench and that if he were smart, he would be trying to figure out exactly how big and disastrous that wrench would be. “I think you didn’t expect me to be involved.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That is true.” Then a smirk began to form on his mouth and he squinted at you. “They’re planning something with you, aren’t they? Fury and his subordinates.”

Your widened eyes must have been all the answer he needed. How did he know?

With a laugh, “They have so much at their disposal, weapons of mass destruction, all of Stark’s technology, and they defer to the prowess of a child they’ve only just met?” Loki leaned in so close the green of eyes felt overwhelming. “They must be truly desperate.”

A familiar voice, Tony’s, called your name from around the corner, echoing off the metal walls of the hallway. But Loki didn’t move. His eyes remained on you, so sharp and curious, you felt like an animal on a dissection tray.

“Until next we meet, then.”

And with that, he vanished.

“Sparks,” Tony came around to your stretch of hallway. “Thought that was your voice. You lost? Talking to yourself? You know, cabin fever usually takes a lot longer than a few hours to set in.”

Still a little too stunned to speak, you gulped and nodded.

Tony’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You good? Looking a little green around the gills, Pikachu.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m alright.” Your voice returned to you. “And.. Pikachu? Really?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but seemed to let it go. He shrugged. “I like to change it up-- and are you, or are you not, electrically charged at all times?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. He clapped you on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he turned, waving you to follow him. “Want you to see what we cooked up for ya.”

————

The conducting table was ready. Only a few moments before you stepped into Loki’s cage, the first time you would be in the same physical space as him since he basically almost murdered you.

Cool. All cool. You were definitely not feeling a panic attack setting in. You were definitely breathing at a normal rate and not feeling your lungs seize up in your chest.

“We’ll be right here, if anything goes wrong,” Steve said, laying a hand gently on the back of your shoulder.

“Aye,” Thor said. “I’ll be standing with you.”

There was a stone in your throat as you looked at Loki through the thick glass. He seemed to feel your gaze, and slowly turned to look, grinning when he saw you watching.

Loki’s hands were shackled, sitting on the table in front of two conducting handles, which were mirrored on the other side. The idea was that you both grip them, and you would be able to dig through his mind… theoretically.

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” you said. You felt sweat under your arms, and your face getting hot with anxiety.

Fury eyed you. “Just do what you can.”

The door to his cell whooshed open, and flanking you on either side as you entered were Cap and Thor. Loki regarded them with that same smirk as they entered, soon followed by Fury and Natasha. Tony and Dr. Banner remained on the other side of the glass.

“Is this the best you can do?” He said, his eyes flaring at you. “Insulting, really.”

Fury ignored him, directing you to the empty chair at the other end of the table.

“On my go,” he said, and stood to the right of the table. He pinned Loki with a stare.

Loki shot back a challenging look before his gaze settled on you and his hands moved to grip the handles. “On your go.” And at that moment, in full purview of that slanting grin, you understood why he was called the God of Mischief.

Fury nodded at you.

Now or never.

And, sparing a passing thought to the entropy that was your life and the risks of what you were about to do, you grabbed the handles.

Tags: @purplekitten30 @scorpionchild81 @mjaudrey @srhxpci @the-maroon-panda @lirinstaalem

[thisisarcanereverie]

Should’ve Known Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either I just got it from Pinterest,

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, the stages of grief, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out. Also mentions of potential abortions.

WORDS : 2,329

SUMMARY: You are detained and questioned by S.W.O.R.D. Wanda reality is breaking and Vision is acting differently than she remembers.  

In case you missed last chapter

series masterlist 

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST 

You stared at the plain and depressing wall in front of you. If anyone saw you they would say you were staring into dead space but that wasn’t true. 

Your thoughts were consumed of Wanda and the baby. 

You didn’t plan on giving up on Wanda, she had woken up, it wasn’t long until her reality came crashing down on her and you needed to be there for her. You needed to help her with the pieces that were going to be left behind. 

Your hand rested on top of your stomach, gently brushing a thumb over the shirt. You didn’t know what the doctors did to you while you were unconscious, but you were certain that eventually they would find out if they hadn’t already. You still had mixed feelings about this pregnancy. You knew deep down it was likely the only time you will be pregnant and you can’t lie, already you felt a connection with the child even though at this point they were only a little clump of cells. 

This kid would be special, you felt it oddly enough. You immediately wanted to apologize even though it couldn’t hear you. You wanted to apologize for the life that they might have to live if that were the case. 

You remembered all the somber nights at the Avengers Tower and Compound. All the nights Steve told you he sort of missed being that boy from Brooklyn who always picked a fight he couldn’t win. He told you if he had known what would happen when he accepted the role of Captain America. He probably still would have done it, but still live on to regret it. 

Wanda had told you that she could never truly let go, she can never fully release all the emotions she kept bottled up. That people got hurt. That if she could go back and never sign up for HYDRA’s experiments, she would.

None of them wanted the life that they were forced into. Yeah some of them had volunteered like Wanda and Steve, but they didn’t fully realize the consequences of such actions then. 

Nat and Bucky never wanted this life, never signed on for it. 

Your child would be forced to the same fate if you allowed the pregnancy. 

You considered aborting the fetus, maybe it was better for it to never live than be born into this world. 

Were you even ready to be a mom? You had money saved up but that was for rent and the last of Steve’s avenging money that he had left behind. 

Steve. 

The kid would never know their father. Steve would always be that blank figure to them. That blank figure would be filled with so many questions and doubts. Everything but him. 

You didn’t want your kid to look at that blank spot and only think of what might have been or hate. You didn’t want them to think their dad left them because they didn’t love them. 

You thought back to the chair splintering under your hand when you remembered the pregnancy. 

You could easily hurt them and the thought alone terrified you. 

There were so many reasons on why you shouldn’t keep it, how maybe it was better this way. 

On the other hand you wanted to keep it. 

You wanted to be a mom. Or at least give it a shot, at least for this kid. Maybe you would break the cycle of abuse that either your parents or grandparents started. 

There was no maybe about it. 

You would. 

You had to. 

Rationally you knew you wouldn’t be a perfect mom and the kid wouldn’t have that perfect life you always wanted, but that didn’t matter. This kid would have their own life to live, their own adventures, their own highs and falls. This kid would have something that you didn’t receive and that alone would make all the difference. 

They’ll have their mother.

-

-

-

Wanda didn’t know when all of this started. The endless pit of nothingness consumed her and that was it. She remembers everything thus far, the black and white changing into colors. You support her through it all just as you did before. 

She wished she didn’t have to send you away but she had no other choice. You brought her back, made her remember that none of this was real. 

Wanda made a different version of you, it was simple enough, it was a simple illusion. You were there, but not there. 

This version of you was happy all the time, was her closest confidant, all the things she wanted you to be. Like how you used to be before Steve had left. 

Steve did a number on you just like Vision did with her. Steve left you in a different manner than Vision left her but the emotional toll it took was very much the same. 

Steve left you on his own terms, he was selfish and left everyone who was counting on him to return. For that Wanda would never trust Steve, real or not real, again. 

Vision didn’t have a choice, Thanos had taken that choice away from him. 

Wanda could feel her blood begin to boil at the thought of Thanos, wishing that she could have finished what she had started on that battlefield then. 

Avenging Vision. 

Wanda recalls the nightmares she had when she came back, the image of Vision's eyes turning milky white and the stone being ripped from his head and the way his head caved in. You would always hold her, you would always assure her that you were fine and that she hadn’t hurt you during the nightmares. She knew you lied but the thought that you cared enough that you didn’t mind her or getting hurt in the process helped a lot more than you would ever know. 

After the funeral Wanda didn’t know she was going to bring you back to her apartment. She didn’t know how more precious you would become to her after living with her. Wanda came to depend on you a lot more than she intended. At first she wanted to be kind, she knew the pain you were going through and didn’t want you to be alone. You didn’t deserve to be alone. 

Then you began to heal together, you sat with her while she was on the other end of the phone lines waiting for answers and filling out paperwork she needed to sign to legally locate Vision. You hugged her during her nightmares, even though her powers had more than once flown something dangerously close to your head. 

Wanda had held your hand when she helped you move out of the apartment you and Steve shared. She was simply there when you needed her to be. 

Wanda grew curious easily, after the first few nights she was tempted to look into your mind. She had mastered the art of doing it without anyone knowing. However, she wanted you to tell her, she promised herself to never use her powers on your mind. 

Now she had broken that promise and made you play your part in this reality, the best friend. Wanda didn’t read your mind but she had played with it. She had played with something so fragile and even when you woke up from her illusions you didn’t care about that. You had only cared about comforting her, about bringing her back from the waves. 

Wanda had no idea what she could possibly have done to deserve someone as loyal as you were in her life. 

But now she’s sent you away, like she did with Garladine. 

She walked into her home that she shared with Vision, her heart filled with something so bitter and so sweet when she looked at him. Like she was seeing the sun after a whole week of only rain and snow but knowing tomorrow there would only be more rain and snow. 

Vision turned around upon hearing the door close, Wanda was expecting to see him with that light and lovely look in his eyes just as he’s always done. She nearly stopped in her tracks when she saw instead nervousness and caution. He didn’t look at her the way Vision had always looked at her, or hell even how you looked at her. 

He looked at her the way that everyone else has looked at her before. 

Like she was going to hurt him. 

“Vision,” she called her voice as sweet as honey, “is everything alright.” Her husband flinched back when she tried to reach for him as though her touch had become poisonous. 

“I spoke to Norm,” He said his arms were crossed over his chest. His face contorted into a neutral state. Wanda felt unsettled, she felt him become reserved. 

“Oh?” she said not knowing what about talking to Norm would make him act this way. 

“I unearthed the man’s suppressed personality and I spoke to him free of your oversight.” 

-

-

-

“Hello Miss. (L/n),” You didn’t bother looking away from the wall, already whoever came in here was on your nerves. 

‘Miss. (L/n) we need you to answer some questions about the Hex.” You looked over and saw a man with the most punchable face you’ve ever laid eyes on. His tone may be nice but you met enough men like him to know how to spot them a mile away. 

“Only if you answer a few of my own.” You retort, you saw how the man stiffened. 

“I don’t think you're in a position to be demanding anything Miss. (L/n)” 

“You wouldn’t have come to ask me anything personally if you didn’t need to. Unless there was something that I may or may not know that could benefit you and even then you wouldn’t have come yourself, men like you have people get the answers for you, no you would only come yourself if it was something vital. Something that no one else on this base knows about.” You cock your head to the side and smile, feeling empowered as you see his hands tighten into a fit at his side. You apparently hit the nail right on the head. 

“So I feel like an exchange is in order,” You say standing up from your sitting position. The guards on either side of the man raised their guns at you. The man told them to stand down. 

“I answer 5 of your questions and you answer 6 of mine.” You held out your hand. 

“Miss. (L/n) why do you get to have more answers than I do?”

“Simple, you want something from me and me alone. I can ask any other agents around here my questions and not make a deal with you at all.” 

His hands flex and ball themselves back into fists and his jaw clenched in anger. You really were getting on his nerves. 

“I agree,” he reaches for your hand and shakes briefly. 

“I’ll go first,” he says. 

“How long were you in the Hex?”

“I’m not too sure of that but it’s safe to assume that I was there since it happened.” you responded, memories of the Hex were confusing and the memories of that day were blacked out almost completely. 

“My turn,” you say. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Director Tyler Hayward of S.W.O.R.D.” 

“My turn,” he says in a slight mocking tone.

“How did Wanda create the Hex?”

“Wanda’s powers are tied to her emotions; it's probably connected to that” You state. “What is S.W.O.R.D.” 

“Sentient Worlds Observation and Response Department.” He responds. 

“Someone really wanted your divisions to be named Sword and Shield really badly didn’t they.” 

“Yes,” he said, “How long were you aware of the Hex while in it?”

“I was subconsciously aware the entire time, although I wasn’t completely aware until the Hex was in color and a hag gave me a notebook.”

His expression was puzzled but he dismissed it. 

“What did my lab results come back with?” 

“Why do you think we took blood from you while you were unconscious?”

“You're a powerful man who set up a meeting with me in secret to ask me a question you don’t want anyone else hearing. It’s not beyond you to secretly steal some blood to run secret tests on it.” 

“Touche,” he admitted, “however badly I would want that Agent Rambeau interrupted me before I could give the order.” 

Finally he reached the last question, the question he wanted to ask all along. 

“How did Wanda reboot the Vision?” 

Vision, he was after Vision. Somehow this made you uneasy, why would he care how Vision for rebooted unless...

“You have Visions body don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, his body gave him away. For a man who was running a semi secret organization he wasn’t that good at hiding his body language. 

“I believe you didn’t answer my question Miss. (L/n), “ he pointed out, “I guess that means one less answer for you.”

You rolled your eyes, you would let him have that. 

“I don’t know how she rebooted Vision, much less without a body, I don’t remember much of the day it happened.” His eyes hardened, upset that he had hit another dead end he went to leave. 

“I still have one more question Haybitch!” You called out, his feet stilled and he turned to you, eyes wide and offended at the nickname. 

“What are you planning on doing to Wanda?” That was the question you wanted to ask. His eyes crinkled as he gave you a sarcastic smile. 

“I don’t know,” he said, “I don’t remember much of that meeting when it happened.”

He then left you to wallow in your own thoughts. 

You knew he had a secret he didn’t want anyone else finding out. 

You knew Wanda knew it. 

You knew he wasn’t going to let her talk. 

You knew whatever his plan was involved her not being able to speak again.

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems (ch.1)

(Prefer to read this on AO3?)

(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)

NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1

Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.

Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.

He was also not cooperating at all.

"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.

Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.

"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."

The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.

"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."

"Is there?"

A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."

Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."

"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"

"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.

The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."

"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."

"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.

Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.

"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"

Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.

Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."

"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.

Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."

"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"

“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."

With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.

Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.

“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”

“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”

“Do I want to know?”

“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”

Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.

“He owes me a new shirt.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”

“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…

Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.

“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.

“Are you offering?”

“For free?”

Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”

Tyrone perked up.

“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”

To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”

“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“

“And she said yes?”

“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“

“Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”

Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.

“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”

The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.

Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Nothing.”

“You seem upset?”

“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”

“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”

Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”

That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”

“I’m not getting older.”

“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath.  “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”

“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”

Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”

“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”

Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”

Oh Stars. “What did you do?”

“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”

Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”

“Define ‘safe’.”

“Tyrone!”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”

“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”

Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”

Thomas shook his head, exasperated.

Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.

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

The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.

Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.

They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.

Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.

“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.

The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”

Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”

That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.

Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟̮ ț̳̮a̪̩̗̥l̯̹̹k̰.”

[thewritewolf]

No, Really

Summary: Adrien can no longer deny it - he is in love with Marinette! The only problem is, she has made it absolutely clear that she is definitely not interested in him. But when he discovers that Marinette might be harboring feelings for Chat Noir, Adrien decides that there is only one way to get together with her: Reveal his identity.

Trouble is? She doesn't believe him.

Hello and welcome! This fic was written for the @totographszine, which was publish for free here. Go check it out, the wonderful @anna-scribbles even did some excellent art of this fic in there.

Read on Ao3

Without any further ado... Enjoy!

Adrien was in love with Marinette. There was no getting around that any more. But, unfortunately, it didn’t seem that she felt the same way.

Ever since he had come to terms with his feelings, he’d been trying to flirt with her. A few cheesy lines here. Some lingering touches and eye contact there. Compliments scattered throughout the day. Although, as he had realized now, it was harder to compliment her more than he already had been. How had it taken him so long to figure out his feelings?

The worst part of it was that she even flirted back! Which may sound great, but his experiences with Ladybug had taught him that flirting back could also mean friendly banter. It was a frustratingly similar experience, which he chose not to dwell on too hard.

And just like with Ladybug, he was at least appreciating the friendship that he could share with Marinette. Now that she had begun to open up to him, he was learning all sorts of things about her. Her favorite foods, what exactly tickled her most, her little mannerisms.

One day he learned the most important little fact about Marinette of them all.

“What is it with you and crushin’ on celebs, girl?”

Adrien recognized Alya’s voice at once and his eyes widened when he realized who she was likely talking to on the other side of the locker.

Sure enough, Marinette let out an irritated groan. There was a sound of a locker opening.

“What makes you think I have a crush on him? Just because I drew him in my notebook—”

“Oh sure, if you were just drawing him, that’d be one thing. But the hearts and kissy faces tell a whole different story.”

Adrien stood stock-still, listening as intently as he could. It felt as if his heart had

stopped beating. Had he failed to win the hearts of both his crushes? Would he ever get a lucky break just for once?

“They weren’t—that’s—no! Those were …” Marinette sputtered and eventually mumbled something that sounded a lot like “spades.”

“Spades.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, girl, if you want I could probably mention your name the next time I see him. Sure it’d be harder to pull off than with blondie, but I’m down.”

“Drop it, Alya,” Marinette said half-heartedly. The locker door was shut and they walked toward the entrance. For a moment, he was scared they would turn around and see him eavesdropping. “I’m sure Chat Noir doesn’t want to have my number pushed into his hand.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he suddenly jolted to life. Chat Noir?

“Maybe. We’ll only find out if we give it a shot.” Their voices got more distant as they walked away. “At least we know you’ve got a type now.”

“Alya!”

In his heart of hearts, Adrien hoped that type included boys with green eyes and blond hair. Would it be too much to ask that she fall for him a second time? Not just as Chat Noir but as Adrien?

It was there, standing alone in the locker room, heart pounding in his throat and feeling light headed, that Adrien was suddenly struck by a plan. And while he was no Ladybug, he was pretty confident about this one.

After all, he didn’t need to make her fall for him twice. She just needed to find out who Chat Noir was.

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

His first opportunity took way too long to arrive. The need to confess his secret identity to her had been weighed against his duty not only to Paris but to Ladybug. He was as certain of Marinette’s trustworthiness as he could be, but he needed to be sure that she and only she heard him.

Besides, it made confessing his feelings a little easier too, which was honestly weighing just as heavily on his mind. Sure, safety of Paris and fighting Hawkmoth and all that, but there was also his poor battered heart to take into consideration. Ladybug had been gentle with her rejections, but they still stung as much as being tossed into a wall by a dozen akumas.

It took over a month for a golden opportunity. The four of them had been studying in Marinette’s room when Alya had left to go babysit her sisters, taking Nino along with her. Adrien watched them slowly pack up and amble over to the trap door, silently screaming every time they stopped for another little chat. But eventually, they did leave. Nino’s cap disappeared below the floor and the trapdoor shut behind them. It was late enough that Sabine and Tom had gone to bed already, but not so late that Adrien would have to leave yet, at least not for a couple hours.

Swallowing against the suddenly dryness in his throat, Adrien looked at Marinette. All thoughts of the physics homework in front of them banished the moment he saw her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, her brow furrowed in concentration.

How could one person be so cute?

Her bright blue eyes flickered up at him. “Something wrong, Adrien?”

There wasn’t going to be a better time. It was now or never.

“Marinette … I’m Chat Noir.”

The sound of her pencil scratching along the paper stopped as she stared at her homework. There was a long moment of silence wherein Adrien silently panicked. After a few seconds that stretched into infinity, which Adrien spent praying that she would say something, anything, she finally spoke.

“Yeah, okay.”

She said it with a snort and a chuckle. It was like when he was experimenting with different jokes for her and he found one that didn’t quite land but didn’t completely fall flat.

She returned back to her homework, and the sound of the pencil resumed.

“Okay? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Um … I suppose I can add a ‘haha’ in there too? If it makes you feel better?”

“You’re not supposed to laugh!”

“Then it’s not a very good joke.”

“It isn’t a joke,” Adrien said, crossing his arms haughtily. This was not going how he had planned in the slightest.

Marinette raised an eyebrow as she sat up. “There is no way you are Chat Noir.”

“Why not? I’m cool!”

“Exactly, and Chat Noir is a massive dweeb.”

Adrien gasped, scandalized. “Take that back!”

“I will not. Besides,” she continued, raising her hand, “there are plenty of things Chat Noir is that you aren’t and vice versa.” She raised a finger for each point. “Chat Noir is loud, outgoing, with a sharp tongue, and he’s a flirt to boot. Plus the whole massive dweeb thing.”

“And what about me?” Adrien pouted, almost dreading the answer. “Adrien Agreste me, I should say.”

“You’re quieter, to start with.” There was a faint blush on her cheeks. Maybe it was easier for her to describe someone who she thought wasn’t present. “You’re considerate and kind and a perfect gentleman.” She smirked and chuckled. “At least, you usually are.”

Adrien put his hands together and brought them next to his lips as he took a deep breath. He was suddenly reminded of all the times he’d made reservations or tried to set up an account on some website under his own name, only to have it deleted because it “couldn’t possibly be actually Adrien Agreste.” By this point in his initial planning stages of confessing to Marinette, they were already organizing their first date between passionate spells of making out, not trying to determine if he really was himself.

But Adrien was nothing if not adaptable.

With a wide, toothy grin worthy of his alter ego, he leaned forward, putting himself dangerously close to her face. The faint blush she’d been sporting flared to life and spread across her entire face. Her eyes went large as he purred out a reply.

“What an unfortunate alley cat I am, baring my soul to a beautiful princess and she doesn’t even believe me. Whatever shall I do?”

“W-wow, you’ve … you’ve really practiced this, h-haven’t you?” She put on a brave face and scooted backwards.

“You could say that. You could also say I’ve got a lot of experience with the whole Chat Noir flare.” The smile became more genuine as he added teasingly, “And it looks like you think Chat Noir might be more than just a massive dweeb, hmm?”

“Y-yeah?” She got back some of her composure—not much, but enough to start bantering back at him. “And what else is he then?”

“A cool cat, maybe,” he said, tossing his hair and running a hand through it. “Or, even better, a fine feline.” He grinned and finger gunned at her.

Marinette snorted. “You’ve definitely nailed down some of that Chat Noir full-of-yourself stuff. Congrats on getting your research done at least.”

“Not research. Just living the life, Pigtails.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Very creative nickname.” She smirked and crossed her arms. “Then again, it’s better than princess or my lady, so I’ll take it.”

“Hey now, Ladybug likes me calling her that, even if she tries to hide it.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. But seriously, whose idea was this? It feels like Alya had a hand in this. I just know it.”

“Why would Alya get me to try to tell you I’m Chat Noir?”

“She never gives up on her ships is all.” Marinette’s eyes went wide and she threw her hands over her mouth. “Forget I said that!”

“But I—”

Her hands went straight for his mouth. “Forget!”

He held his hands up in surrender and she backed off.

“Come on, though. What’s so hard to believe about me being Chat Noir?”

“I just can’t see you and Chat Noir being the same person. You’re both so different!”

“Okay, first off—yeah, I can be quiet sometimes,” Adrien admitted. “But you’ve seen how I am with my friends, when I’m comfortable. I can be just as outgoing as I am in the mask!”

Marinette massaged her temples. “So what, you’re saying you have to be with close friends to be as confident as you are making terrible puns in front of all of Paris?”

“Well, the mask helps a little,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “After all, then I don’t have to think about how what I say will impact the company or get yelled at by my father. I get to just … be wild.” He gave her a timid smile. “I suppose sometimes I go a little overboard, huh?”

Her blush deepened. “Y-yeah. I guess you do sometimes.” She cleared her throat and schooled her expression back into a skeptical one. “Assuming you are Chat Noir, of course.”

“Of course.” Quietly, he added, “You know, Adrien me isn’t the only one who is ... kind. I’ve done it plenty of times in the mask.”

“I mean, yeah, you do the heroics and everything, but I was talking about something—”

“Gentler?” he said with his best Chat Noir grin, which made her eyes widen like saucers. His voice was still barely above a whisper. “Like when I comfort akuma victims or sponsor animal shelters?”

“I—yes, like that,” she admitted in the same soft tone. A little stronger, she poked his chest and gave a small smirk. “But don’t you think Ladybug will be mad that you revealed your identity? You promised not to do that, you know. Assuming you really are Chat Noir.”

“Maybe I should have asked her about it first,” he admitted, even as something tickled at the back of his mind. How did she know about the promises between them? “But I’m sure she’d understand if she knew. The value of love is something we both agree on.”

“I mean, I guess, but—wait, what?”

“And I suppose you’ve noticed how, no matter what side of the mask I’m on, I love to flirt with the person I love?” She gasped, but he just shook his head and laughed. “Finally get there? I mean, I’ve been flirting with you nonstop for like a month.” He smiled. “Maybe you and Ladybug should hang out. The everyday Ladybug and the real-life Ladybug. Both of you can be really dense when it … comes to … realizing … oh my god.”

Adrien saw the exact moment that she realized that he had figured her out. One moment she was watching him attentively. The next, her eyes had widened in panic, her pupils shrinking down to tiny pinpoints. He knew that if he did nothing, she’d start flailing her arms around and denying it.

The distance between them turned to nothing as he leapt toward her, laughing. She grumbled as he pulled her close, squeezing her tight against his chest, but she didn’t try to break free.

“Don’t be so proud of yourself. You only got lucky,” she said as she returned the hug.

“Luck or not, I finally found you … my lady.”

He looked down at her face at the same moment that she looked up into his. A moment laden with meaning passed between them before they both broke down laughing again. At long last, they had finally found each other.