#there were other hidden meanings to me using it too besides the names pun

[michelle-is-writing]

Protector, Warren Worthington iii

Word Count: 4.5k~

I had been best friends with Warren ever since I met him.

Throughout our years in school, Warren and I had always stuck by each other's side. We hung out together, ate lunch with each other, and nearly forgot about all those people around us who would point out his wings to hurt him. It was like we were in our own little world, and in a way, we were.

We met in the second grade while our class was in the library. While looking for a book, I found Warren, huddled up behind a bookshelf in the elementary school library. He was red in the face and crying as he held his knees close to him. Instantly, I noticed his wings, of course - how could I not?

However, this didn't stop me from going up and asking him what was wrong. I can still remember the way his curls bounced against his scalp as he turned his attention away from his lap and up to me, quickly wiping away his tears to cover up his emotions. Despite being so young, he knew how to expertly do this as he pretended that nothing was wrong and he wasn't crying merely thirty seconds ago.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting beside him. I saw him tense up, his back straightening up as he laid his legs out in front of him instead of hugging them to his chest.

"Nothing," He instantly answered me, once again, pretending as if everything wasn't as it seemed.

Instead of saying anything more, I let the boldness I had as an eight-year-old takeover and pulled him into my arms, his figure becoming even tenser. Although, he didn't pull away, and instead, just stayed in that position until I spoke up.

"The kids are mean to me too," I told him, his breath catching in his throat. "And they shouldn't be because you seem pretty cool," I explained with a smile as he turned his eyes up to look at me again. "No one else here has wings, and they're really pretty."

From then on, we were practically inseparable. We weren't seen without each other, and despite bullies picking on us, we didn't let their words bother us. Even as we got older, nothing changed, and in spite of living in an expensive house with nearly triple the amount of space that my house was, Warren chose to stay at my place most nights. His parents didn't care about what he did, and my parents were more than happy to have him over.

When we reached high school, our friendship turned into an actual relationship between two lovebirds (no pun intended). Now we really were inseparable.

However, this changed one night when he went out to grab something from the store. I was sick, and needed medicine; so, being the thoughtful boyfriend he was, he decided he would go out and get some. I guess we underestimated how much mutants were hated in the area as Warren never came back.

Now it's been three months since he disappeared.

Every night since, I went searching for him, only to return to some hotel or hostel without him. I don't know what came over me tonight though. For all my life, I've always been told to avoid putting myself in dangerous settings, and yet, all of those lessons were cast away as I heard people screaming and hollering down an empty and dark alleyway while in Munich. My searching had taken me far away from home, but I wasn't going to stop until I found Warren.

Following the sounds of excitement and fury, I found a hidden door that led to what seemed to be a fighting ring. People surround the caged area, but I push through them, ignoring their waving arms with money held high. I stop at the metal fence separating the people from the ring, only to gasp in horror as my eyes fall over the white, fluffy wings I've loved for many years.

"Warren..." I hear his name being whispered through my lips, tears forming in my eyes as I look at his hurt and pained figure. Fighting for his life against another mutant, he spits blood from his mouth as he wipes away the blood forming on the cut across his cheek. The tattered t-shirt he wears, the same thing he wore the night he disappeared, barely hangs onto his shoulders by a few strips of fabric, the band emblem on the front no longer being recognizable. His arms have fresh bruises forming all along the skin while fading bruises covers the visible parts of torso. How the hell did he get here?

Too shocked to move, I watch as Warren throws a punch at the other mutant, only to hit the fence in front of him, the silver eliciting sparks as soon as Warren touches it. "Shit!" He yells while the blue mutant seemingly teleports to different parts of the cage, only to receive the same treatment as Warren did. Hearing his voice after so long makes me nearly choke on the air in my throat, the tears now falling freely. Seeing Warren makes me want to rip through the fence and save him, but seeing that the metal fence is electric, I can't simply do that.

Blinking the oncoming tears away, I glance in every corner of the underground hideaway and try to find something that might resemble a control panel. It isn't until I see a switch box on what seems to be a surveying floor that I begin running to it, successfully climbing up the steps to the higher level and stopping in front of it. Gazing back to the fighting ring, I see Warren shouting at the dodging mutant while people standing around the cage yell out vile words of hate and absolute greed.

"Warren!" I shout his name as loud as I can, placing my hand on the handle to the electrical switch. Instantly, his head darts toward the voice calling his name, every inch of his being relaxing once he sees me. I smile at him before nodding, his eyes following my hand as it begins pushing the handle downward. Just before the electricity goes out, I see Warren's dirty wings perk up just as the entire underground arena goes pitch black.

In the darkness, the people's screams die down while the clinging sound of the fence being ripped apart follows it. Mere seconds pass before I familiar arms wrap around me and tug me close to their body, Warren's wings flapping rapidly as he lifts us into the air and to the hidden door I entered through. Once we're outside, we quickly run as far as we can before stopping in another alley, far away from the other one.

As soon as we stop, Warren wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to him, his lips immediately attaching to mine in a fervent and much-needed kiss. His hand on my waist never falters in its hold on me, and instead, it squeezes the flesh there as if he were testing if I was real or not.

"I'm here," I tell him, sliding my hands down his face as endless tears fall from his cheeks and onto my hands. Staring into his tear-filled eyes, I can't help but cry tears of happiness as well. "I'm right here."

Nodding, Warren folds his wings behind him, slightly wincing at the pain of them conforming against his back. "Fucking hell," He mutters, placing his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. A few seconds pass of him just holding me before he kisses me once more. "I've missed you so fucking much."

Our sweet reunion is cut short by a black vehicle slamming on their brakes at the end of the alleyway. "Warren," I say his name, concerned at the sight in front of us. Warren turns around, only for his wings to burst out again, shielding me from seeing anything. Peeking under one of the long feathers, I see two men leave the vehicle before one of them points at Warren.

"That's him!" The man yells, "Get him!"

In an instant, Warren swings around and wraps his arms and wings around me, protecting me from the flurry of oncoming bullets. What appears to be eight shots sounds throughout the alley before the same car speeds off again as Warren begins to topple over. Was he shot?

Trying to catch him before he falls on his face, I wrap my arms around Warren and hold him up for a few seconds, only for his size to take over mine and fall to the side. Landing on his back with me on top of him, Warren waves his hand at me while shaking his head, his eyes shut. "I'm fine," He mutters, his voice now suddenly tired and drained.

Eyes wide and concerned, I turn him onto his side and look over him to see blood pouring from his wings. Between the layers of feathers, I find what seems to be four bullet wounds, causing me to practically lose it as the crimson liquid touches my hands. "No, no, no, no, no," I mutter uncontrollably as I place him onto his back. "Warren, Warren," I repeat his name, running my hand against the side of his face, his own blood smearing across his flawless cheek. "Warren, don't go to sleep!"

At my heartbroken plea, Warren opens his eyes, frowning at the sight of tears pouring from my eyes. "Don't cry, my love," He begs, his voice even weaker than before. He lifts a hand to my face, doing the same to me just as I had done to him. I quickly place my hand over his, holding it there as I feel the warmth in his skin begin slowly leaving it. "I... I love you..." He whispers, his eyes closing once again.

Just like a few seconds ago, I feel every ounce of sanity leave me as I watch the love of life wither away in front of me. "Warren, don't do this to me!" I shout, the tears now falling like a waterfall. I could barely manage not seeing him for the three hellish months when he was missing - I can't live the rest of my life without him.

"Warren!" I scream his name again, utter desperation being the only recognizable thing in my voice. Releasing a sob, I push my head against his chest and hear his still-beating heart. However, I know that if I don't get him to a hospital within the next few seconds, his heart won't continue beating like that. But what hospital will even help us?

"Ma'am?" I hear a woman's soft voice coming from the end of the alley, causing me to jerk my head up and see a blonde woman standing twenty feet away. Concerned, she walks closer to me before kneeling beside Warren and me, the knees of her pants becoming stained with his spilled blood on the alley ground. His wings are the first things that catch her focus, making me want to hold him closer.

"Please, don't hurt him," I beg her, my hand holding his hand a bit tighter. "He-he's a-" The woman cuts me off.

"He's a mutant," She points out, looking over at me. Still crying, I nod once, watching as a small smile appears on her face. Within a short second, the fair skin she once had transforms into blue flesh with darker blue scales, her eyes turning yellow and green while her hair changes into a much brighter orange/red.

"It's okay," She assures me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I am too, and I can help."

Her words, not to mention her sudden change of looks, shock me, but I nod at her, ready to do anything this woman says if it means saving Warren.

"Where's his family?" She asks me, her hand remaining on my shoulder as she kneels on the ground beside me.

"Me," I quickly answer her, tears still falling from my eyes. "I am his family."

"You're not a mutant," She points out, shaking her head with squinted eyes as she looks at me a bit confused. "And you care for him?"

"He's my best friend, the love of my life..." I answer her, my heart clenching as the words leave my lips. "Please, you have to help us!"

The woman nods, giving me a small, encouraging smile. "Kurt!" She abruptly yells, a teenage boy with blue skin and carvings appearing behind her with a blue puff of smoke following. I instantly recognize him as the other mutant in the pin with Warren earlier, and in spite of this, he doesn't try to get back at Warren while he's down.

Pulling his hand to get closer, she makes him get on our level before wrapping his arm around her and me. The stranger, Kurt, then wraps his other arm around Warren's almost lifeless body and tugs him a bit closer as well. "Get us all to the mansion nurse's ward - now!"

With the woman's last words, Kurt somehow does so, causing us to suddenly be in a nurse's station only a second later. This all confuses the living hell out of me, but with Kurt having a tail and red eyes, and not to mention blue skin like the lady, I don't know if I should be questioning the normalcy of anything at the moment.

Immediately, three scrubbed nurses rush up to where we are and pick Warren up from the ground. "He was shot, multiple times," The blue woman quickly explains, standing up from the ground. "He'll need blood, and you need to act quick."

Listening to her, the three nurses nod before taking an unconscious Warren back to what I could guess is surgery. Numb, I sit on the cold tile floor as I reach my blood-covered hands up to cross my arms and hold myself, my eyes stuck on the swinging doors that Warren was just carried through. Beside me is Kurt as he places a consoling hand on my shoulder, giving me a small smile.

"He vill be alright," Kurt assures me, his words helping me out a little. Giving him a small nod of my head, I take his held-out hand and stand up with him. "That is Raven, by the way," He adds as the woman from before moves to stand in front of me, taking my hand in hers despite it stained crimson.

"This is the Xavier mansion," She explains to me, "You're safe; we won't hurt you."

At her words, I nod. "I know," I tell her, giving her a small smile. "I trust you."

Smiling back at me, Mystique's eyes flicker behind me before her mouth slightly parts, her hand holding mine slightly faltering. "Who is this, Raven?" I hear a soft British voice speak up, causing me to slowly turn around and see a man in a wheelchair now in front of me. His eyes quickly catch my blood-covered hands and arms, shock taking over him. "Dear heavens, what happened to you, dear?"

I go to answer him, but my voice defeats me in doing so. Instead, Mystique speaks for me. "Charles, her and a fellow mutant were shot at in an alleyway when Kurt and I were passing by. He has wings, that's where most of the bullets hit him," She explains to him, "She has no ill will toward any of us - she just wants her boyfriend to survive."

A few seconds pass before the man, Charles, nods, staring at me with a frown. "I'm sorry to hear that, love," He tells me, giving me a single nod. "Raven, help her get cleaned up and fetch some fresh clothes for her as well," With that, Charles wheels himself out of the room and into the hallway where he enters the room at the end.

In a puff of blue smoke, Kurt leaves Mystique and me, letting us head to what I presume is her room where she wets a washcloth and begins rubbing the drying blood from my arms. "He will be alright," She tells me, saying Kurt's exact words from moments ago. "Trust me."

I nod at her words, but I can't believe them myself. What if Warren isn't okay? What if one of the bullets when through his spine and he's now paralyzed? I couldn't see all of his wounds so I don't know where they all hit him, minus the few I could see in his wings. What if the nurses and doctors can't do anything and he dies on the table? I can't bear to lose him - not again.

With my arms their original (s/c) color, I change into a pair of pajama pants and matching top with a school emblem given to me by Raven before walking with her to Charles' office. Stopping in front of his desk, Mystique and I watch as the man from earlier sits at his desk with his attention stuck on the novel stuck in his hands. However, it doesn't take long for him to notice our presence and put the book down with his glasses following.

"(Y/n), is it?" Charles asks me, turning his attention up to me. Surprised, I hesitantly nod as he speaks up once more. "No need to worry, dear," He assures me with a smile despite my caution. "I'm able to read minds and communicate through them as well," Charles further explains. "Raven and I were talking while she helped you with your arms and hands,"

"I understand you've been through a lot in the past hour, so I won't force you to talk about it," Charles tells me, making me let out a small sigh of relief. "But I am a bit concerned over the fact that you were in such a predicament that your partner was shot," Holding his hand out, Charles waits for me to place my hand in his. "I won't scour through your brain and look at everything you've ever seen or done - I just want to see what all transpired tonight."

Hesitating, I bite my lip in thought before shakily putting my hand in Charles, his touch being warm and welcoming. I feel as Charles does what he told me he would do, the images of the past month flashing before my eyes. Warren's disappearance, me finding him, and helping him get out are all shown before me like a home movie shot from my perspective. Because of this, I gasp a little, shocked at Charles' ability to do such a thing.

Slowly slipping his hand from mine, Charles' eyebrows furrow in thought before flashing his eyes up to mine, confusion written all over them. "You're a human with no powers or anything," He points out, slightly pausing in his words. "And yet, you've always loved a mutant?"

His words come out as a question, but to me, they're a true statement. I love Warren - I always have - and nothing about him will ever change that. "He's human just as I am," I tell Charles, giving him a small smile. "but, with wings," I further add, my smile growing sad as I lightly shrug. "How could I not love my angel?"

My words washing over him, Charles smiles back. "I like you," He tells me, Raven putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Your friend, I think he'll pull through. After all, he has a great incentive."

Because of Charles' words, I smile and give him a nod of thanks just as a question rises to my mind. "What... what is this place?" I ask, gesturing to the overall building. I know it has to be an establishment of some sort going by the built-in medical wing and wide hallways.

"This," Charles states, pointing his finger to the ceiling while his eyes remain on mine. "Is Xavier's a school for gifted youngsters," He informs me before nodding his head once. "This is a school specialized for children with mutations such as Warren, or Kurt, whom you met earlier."

Furrowing my eyebrows together, another question comes to mind. "Why have I never heard of this place before?" I ask, receiving a small smile.

"We're a relatively small school," Charles simply explains, "Ultimately, if your boyfriend would want to join, he could - now, you're not a mutant, but the unique and understanding attitude you give off, I'm sure we could work something out for you too."

His words make my cheeks turn pink in response to the compliment as I thank him, turning my eyes toward the ground as I try to fight the ever-growing smile on my lips. Just as I do this, I see Charles put a hand to his forehead as his eyebrows furrow before looking over at Mystique with a smile. "Raven, take her back to the medical ward," he tells the fiery-haired woman. "It seems that her friend was easily operable and now they're just waiting for him to wake up."

Almost immediately, I turn and follow Mystique out of the room with my pace just a little faster than hers. Soon enough, we walk through the doors and directly to the beds where only one of them is occupied, and the sleeping body in it is Warren's. The window behind him shines down on him with the bright and early morning sun highlighting his now washed and pure white wings that lie behind him. The sight is a complete contrast to what I saw only an hour ago with the almost black sky darkening everything around us and only emphasizing the dirt and grime that covered Warren's perfect wings.

"We told you he'd be okay," I hear Mystique's gentle voice beside me say, causing me to nod with an onrush of tears rising in my eyes. They were right, and my Warren is okay.

Moving closer to him, I sit beside Warren on the bed and take his hand in mine, his unconscious body unresponsive toward my touch and his perfect face never changing. "I'll let you two be alone," Mystique speaks up before doing as she says and walking back toward the door. Once I hear the swinging door shut, the tears residing in my eyes quickly fall over the barrier and down my face as I try to hold in my sobs.

When you love someone, you never want to see them in pain or hurting, and when they're laid up in a hospital bed with consciousness being a waiting game, it hurts you. It physically hurts you to the point where your chest feels heavy with dread, and your stomach feels sick with worry. It's terrible, and I wish there was something I could've done to protect Warren from getting shot.

"I'm so sorry," I sob, turning my eyes away from him and toward the floor. Raising my free hand to cover my mouth as the sobs tumble out, I don't notice Warren's hand gently squeezing mine until I feel the bed beneath me slightly moves.

Immediately looking back over to him, I see his eyes flutter open and quickly dart to me, confusion taking over his tired face as soon as he sees my crying form. "Why..." Warren slowly starts speaking, his voice raspy and scratchy with sleep. "Why are you crying, love?" He finishes his question, now trying to sit up.

"No, no, baby," I usher him to continue lying flat, moving to stand on my knee on the side of his bed before pushing his shoulders back down onto the mattress. Despite this, he still doesn't listen and moves to wrap his arms around me before pulling me fully onto the bed and holding me to his chest. Finally, Warren does lie back down, but in a matter of seconds, his wings are fluttering around me like any other time I'd be on top of him. My eyes quickly catch sight of the now bandaged wounds, and now that I get a better look, I see that there was one more bullet-wound than I initially thought. "Warren, your stitches!"

"It's okay, love," He sleepily responds, leaning his head back to look up at me with a happy face. "I'm so damn happy to see you," Warren confesses, his eyes gazing over me as if I were a precious gem.

If it weren't for the nurses cleaning the dirt from his face and body, I wouldn't have been able to assess the full damage the fighting ring did to him. Above his left eye is a healing bruise that covers a majority of the side of his forehead, and his bottom lip is split, making it swollen. On top of all of that, his green eyes are sunken in and practically taken over by dark circles.

Still, he continues staring at me, acting as if nothing is bothering him until a look of confusion fall over his face. "Now, are you going to tell me why you were crying?" Warren repeats his question from earlier, making me shake my head as more tears rise to my eyes.

"You almost died, Warren," I inform him, his face still unchanging. "I've been without you for three damn months, and the night I get you back, I almost lost you again - for good!" I add on, raising a hand to wipe away my fast-falling tears.

However, Warren beats me to it and places his hands against my cheeks where he gently holds me, his face now soft. I guess he hasn't assessed the severity of the situation. That, or he hasn't taken the time to fully realize that he has stitched-up bullet wounds adorning his wings.

"I'm sorry," Warren apologizes after a few seconds of silence. Despite expecting those two words, it still doesn't hit me any easier as I'm sobbing once again, this time, into Warren's chest.

Holding me close, Warren waits a few moments before moving his hands back to my face and turning me to look at him directly. As soon as he gets the chance, Warren places his rough lips on top of mine, the skin chapped from the harsh things he's been put through. Despite crying moments ago, my tears ultimately stop as I come to the realization of how much I've missed the feeling of Warren's lips on mine. Chapped or not, his lips are the pure definition of Heaven, and when they're on top of mine, it's like pure ecstasy.

Pulling away for air, I pant above Warren as he does the same, his hands now sliding down to grip my waist once again. "I love you," He tells me, "And I've missed you- God, how I've missed you," Warren adds, shaking his head as a small, almost unnoticeable tear falls down his cheek. "Each day was hell without you, and I can't be without you, not again."

Smiling at him, I lean down once more and peck his soft cheek before nuzzling my head next to his on the pillow, his hold on me never changing in the slightest. "You won't have to, Angel," I tell him, watching his lips quirk up in a smile at my nickname for him. Deciding on leaving the explanation of where we're at for later, I close my eyes alongside Warren and fall asleep, finally able to relax knowing he and I can be together with no one to stop or hurt us.

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~3400

part i.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019.  2:13 AM.

It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him.  He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team.  Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.

One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it.  Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?

"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"  

Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side.  He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.

When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company.  His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.

"Thanks, you too."

Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen.  You have a nice voice, he thinks.  "Are you sticking with Widow?"

Jungkook takes in the team comp:  Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio.  A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable.  They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps.  Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.  

"Should I?"

"If you want."  A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait.  "I can damage boost."

He thinks he can hear the teasing.  It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.  

"Who says I need it?"  Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help.  It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom.  He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.

"O—kay, Widow main.  We'll see if you get anything from me."

It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him.  It's distracting in the strangest way.  The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.  

"Are you going to join us?"  You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper.  "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."  

Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W.  Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it.  Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.  

As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.

BOOM.

The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.

"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."  

He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort.  It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs.  He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud.  "I told you."

"Yeah, yeah."  The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement.  Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point.  "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team.  Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."

You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun.  Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after. 

"Show-off!"   

Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot.  He needs heals like yesterday.

Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point.  Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb.  "Try to stay alive, yeah?"

"My bad,"  he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths. 

There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left.  The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time;  the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.  

"Thanks for the damage boost."

"Any time."

Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay.  He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah.  He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.

"Looks like you're really making them mad."  You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background. 

"I don't know why.  I'm just having fun."  He's lying.  You're laughing.  

"Too much fun, I think."  

"Maybe they should be better."  Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant.  It makes your giggles come harder.  He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing.  He can't help but pat himself on the back.

"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."

Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought.  "Of course not.  I'm not that rude!"

"Well, you never know."  You're right.  People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated). 

"I promise I'm not an asshole."  He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear.  After all, he'd probably never play with you again.  Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions. 

Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is.  "I'm just teasing.  You seem nice."

"I am nice."  Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah.  You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee. 

"Not according to them."  And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight.  He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you. 

"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack."  Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense. 

"Who says I'm going Widow again?"  

You're scandalized.  "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"

For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them.  He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned.  He decides he doesn't really mind, though.  It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight. 

"Woah - says the Mercy player?"

"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"

"Sure, e-girl."  

"Take that back!"  How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't.  You can take it just as well as you can dish it.  

"Okay, okay.  You're a not bad healer."  Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks.  Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.

He can practically hear you rolling your eyes.  "Oh, thanks."  

"Any time, BigMelon."  

"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal."  Had he heard you wrong?

"What'd you say?"  

There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else.  You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound.  "Because watermelon?  Su-bak?  So big melon is dae-bak?"  Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.

It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm.  Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player? 

"You're kidding me."  He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think.  "What're you - a dad?"

You scoff now, parroting his words back to him.  "What're you - the pun police?"  

Another one?

He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness.  Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place.  His silence will surely speak volumes.  

"You know that was funny!"  By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.  

"Not the word I'd use."

"You just have bad taste, McCree."  You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal. 

"Do not!"  He returns, just as quickly.  

"Prove it.  Laugh at my joke!"  You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.  

You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his.  It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls.  He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p. 

"Hey - stop that!"  It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him.  He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line. 

The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.  

"Stop distracting me!"  He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably.  He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling. 

As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three.  When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen.  Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.

"We did it, McCree."  You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested.  The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums;  Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view.  One of your tanks is already emoting.

VICTORY flashes across his screen.  

"We sure did, BigMelon."

The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised.  You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime.  He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.  

"Thanks for the carry."  He doesn't mean it facetiously.  This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.

"You're welcome,"  you chirp.  He thinks you'll leave right after.

Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner. 

"Do you want to duo?"  You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter.  It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.

Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019.  11 PM.

It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.  

“Most people call me Jinny.”  He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy.  “What’s your name?”

Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be.  Of course you’d want to know.  Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.

He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat.  He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.

"Uh."  The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.  

"You don't have to tell me,"  you supply as softly as he's ever heard you.  It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason.  "I get that we haven't known each other that long."  

As if that's actually the issue.  He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter.  He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500.  He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.

It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.

But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can.  "My friends call me Jay."

"Jay, huh?"  You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it.  He hopes you don’t hate it.  "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."

"Woah, we?"  He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game.  You never make good on the threat anyway;  you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits.  "I don't think I agreed to that."  

It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy.  "Fine.  You can find yourself a new healer.  We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"  

Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.  

"No!  Don't leave me with them!"  The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.

Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations.  It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight.  It’s, oddly enough, with you.  

Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home.  It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.

Different, but nice.

"Fine.  You're forgiven."  You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly.  "How was your day?"

And this is why it is - because it's ordinary.  It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea.  He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders.  He's just a normal guy playing games.  

It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.  

He eats it up like he's been starved of it.

"Busy.  Really busy.  I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now."  There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully.  He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.

It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing.  He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.

"You should make something to eat!"

He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair.  "But we're in queue."

"Jay!"  It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.

"I'll make something after we win."  He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night.  You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.

As if right on cue:  "Shut up!"  

Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning;  lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.  

It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.

He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever.  Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark.  The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples.  You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.  

There's just something about you. 

And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else).  Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him.  Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?  

Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star.  Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.  

But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.

Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met. 

notes.  i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk.  what more can i say?  :)

[league-of-thots]

Quarantine Fun

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: sensory deprivation, ropes and bondage,

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This was part of another lovely server collab that i was so fucking excited to be a part of!! I FINALLY got to yoink my favourite boy hawks and was fucking pumped to write for him so I hope you all enjoy! The masterlist with the rest of the fucking LOVELY writers is right here: COLLAB LIST

It was day three of the quarantine when you finally reached the end of your tether, and as a loud crash came from the other room in your shared apartment, you heard a small tinkling of glass shattering. You feel your pulse beating through your temples in pent up anger and frustration.

         “Keigo Takami I swear to GOD! What did you do?!” You throw your phone down on the couch beside you as you angrily speed over to see what your boyfriend had done now in his boredom. You enter the other room and see him sheepishly grin up at you from the floor where he’d somehow managed to end up tied in an awkward position and had knocked into the table, sending a photograph off of it and thus the shattering you’d heard.

         “What the fuck?!” you exclaim, grabbing a broom and dustpan to clean away the dangerous glass pieces. “Why are you tied up? How did you even get in that position?” You knew you boyfriend was a man of many talents, but his best talent by far was the ability to get himself into stupidly strange and unnecessary situations.

         He just laughs at your questions and as you return with the broom and pan, he’s practically howling on the floor at your expressions. Well, as much as he can with his chest restricted by ropes and hands behind his back, legs at an awkward angle on the floor.

         “I’m glad you’re finding this funny.” You harrumph and ignore him, starting to sweep up the glass pieces that make more delicate sounds as you work.

         “Aw, babes, don’t be like that!” he gets out as his laughter starts to die down. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you; I’m just going stir crazy in here!”

         “I can see that,” you scowl a bit, the confines of your apartment, and the stress of the whole situation starting to really make you grouchy. Luckily, it was a rather small photo, so there wasn’t too much glass for you to clean up. Your boyfriend was now sitting where he’d fallen, trying to cheer you up while you worked, managing to wheedle a couple smiles and chuckles from you, as he always does.

         After you finish throwing out the shards, you go back towards him, and stand in front of him with your hands on your hips. He’s trying to get the ropes undone, but with the angle he was in, and how they’d tightened when he’d fallen in a heap, was making no progress. It was amusing to see, and he looked so cute with the pout on his face and the sharp ruffles of annoyance through his wings.

         “So, are you going to tell me what you were trying to accomplish with, ah- all of this?” you gesture towards his entire body, looped with rope and patterns. You have an idea of what he was doing, but still unsure as to why. To your surprise your usually unrufflable boyfriend flushes slightly under your attention and mumbles something out. You give him a pointed look so as to say ‘Speak up’ and he clears his throat.

         “Well, I was bored, and I know you’re stressed so I was thinking of fun ways that we could fix both of our issues, if you catch my drift.”

         “… So you did it on yourself?”

         “Just to practice! I hadn’t done sexy rope tying before, only y’know, actual hog tying of villains and stuff.”

         “If you refer to this as sexy rope tying ever again, I won’t have sex with you for a month Keigo.” He lets out a protested squawk at that, saying it wasn’t that bad.

         “I am stuck though, so ah- babes if you would help me out of these, I really would appreciate it.” He gave you a pleading look and you can’t help but laugh a little at him, rolling your eyes and going to untie him. He reaches up to give you a quick kiss when his hands are free, they’re quick pecks, but energetic as he starts kissing all around your face with your head in his hands. You can’t help but giggle as he distracts you from your mood and worries.

         “What exactly were you planning on doing with me though, Keigo? Your whole body is somehow almost all tied up.” You couldn’t even fathom how he’d managed it, maybe with his feathers? Were they that nimble? He stands up moving behind you to massage your shoulders gently.

         “Well I was reading up on things and saw something about how sensory deprivation in small doses can made people less stressed and anxious. I was thinking it might be an interesting idea to try out, especially because you’re on edge.”

         “You’re just horny because you have so much extra energy with the quarantine being in effect.” You say sharply, though you’re touched by your boyfriend’s idea. He was pretty great to you.

         “I’m not going to deny that either.” You can practically feel his smirk from behind you. “How can you blame me though when there’s such a hot woman in front of me 24/7 because of this quarantine?” he smacks your ass and you let out a shocked noise, not having expected it.

         You lightly swat his hands away, but he slouches on top of you, clinging to you and cooing into your ear.

         “The one good thing about this quarantine, is that at least we can finally spend some time together. Even if I drive you up the walls sometimes.” He hums, his fingers starting to tease the waistband of your shorts. “I wish it was less of a complete break, and more of a less busy work schedule, but beggars can’t be choosers.” His hands have gone down your sleep shorts now and started teasing your folds, never quite going where you want them too. He starts kissing your neck, nipping at it and licking it over, humming with happiness. Even though the quarantine was a lot of stress for everyone, you were happy to see Keigo finally getting the rest he needed, the bags under his eyes had started to disappear and he had more life to him.

         You whine as he continues his teasing, knowing he loves making and watching you squirm. You’ll let him for now, letting him have his fun because you know by the end of your night, you’ll be screaming his name in bliss.

         “So, do you trust me enough to let me try some things, Y/N? I’m really thinking it’ll be fun and let us blow off some of the stress and boredom.”

         “You already bought everything for it, didn’t you?” You’re palming his slowly hardening member behind your ass.

         “If you said yes, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait at all, can you blame me? I think you’re going to look so fucking hot all tied up and completely in the dark about what’s going to happen to you next.” A groan slips out of you at his words, his fingers finally giving you some relief as they finally breached your wet folds.

         “God, yes, I’m so excited to see what you have ready for me Keigo. You know I trust you more than anyone else, so bring it on.”

         “You remember the safe word though?”

         “Of course.”

         “Good, then we can get started love-dove.” You groan at the pun but you don’t really have time to say anything as he whips you up into the air, laughing, carefree for once. He catches you, kissing you as you giggle at his playful energy, it’s been so long since you’d seen it from him.

         You lose track of how long the two of you stand in the hallway, you in his arms and his hands on your ass. He bites at your lips, begging to be let inside in his own way, and you respond as you always do, opening your mouth for him and nipping back, making it interesting for him.

         He slowly starts walking down the hall with you in his arms, still keeping his lips connected with yours as he kicks open the bedroom door. Pulling back he smirks a little and tosses you back on the bed, his eyes glinting with glee and barely contained lust.

         “Clothes off babes, I want to see those pretty tits of yours.” You follow his instructions, practically sliding out of your clothes as if you’d somehow turned into liquid. His watchful eyes never move off of you body as he stands at the foot of the bed, arms crossed. He licks his lips and catches your eyes after that with a smirk as he quickly worms out of his own clothes. You notice that he’s already half hard, but seems to be completely ignoring it as he heads over towards the closet where he must have hidden his new toys.

         You feel excitement running through your veins, as you hear shuffling of fabrics and the unzipping of a bag. Keigo was right, this would be a fucking terrific way to end the boredom that the quarantine had brought. Although you’d never admit that out loud of course, he didn’t have to know the extent of how much and how easily he affected you.

         He comes back with a grin as big as the sun itself which is at odds with all the things you can see him carrying, and you feel your eyes widen. That seems to amuse him as he sets the goodies at the foot of the bed and crawls up towards you. His eyes are bright and they take your breath away, you truly understand how his gaze makes people feel as if they were being hunted, the way he’s looking at you now makes you lose your breath, makes you feel as if he’s about to devour your entire being.

         He cages you in with his wings, but rather than fear, all you can feel is arousal as he surrounds you, breath heavy despite the lack of action from either of you.

         “You have no idea, no fucking idea, how good you look like this.” His hands move to play with your pebbled nipples as he straddles you, leaning down to capture your mouth with his. You let out a small cry that’s easily swallowed by him as he pinches your nipple. You lightly punch him in the side.

         “The fuck Keigo? That hurt,” you pout up at him as he snickers.

         “I’m sorry its just, god everything was getting so serious babe, this is to blow off steam you know?”

         “There are better ways to do that then pinching my tit you ass.” But at this point you’re grinning too, pecking him on the lips. “Are we going to get started yet Keigo? I want you inside me.” His mouth parts, eyes wide as you say that.

         “Fuck, are you trying to make me rush through all of the special things I had planned for you babes? Patience Y/N, good things come to those who wait after all.”

         “Yeah, yeah birdman. I want to see what you have already.”

         “Yes ma’am.” He gives a little salute before backing off, going through the togs he’d bought just for you. “I’m going to start slow, ok? It can be shocking if you’re just getting started with this type of thing.” You nod your head in acceptance and he brings out a rather thick blind fold. He trails his fingers up your body, feather light touches that have you shuddering, as he brings his hands up to your face.

         The fabric is cool on your face, and slightly heavier than you expected it to be, and it obscures all of your vision, even every bit of light that had been showering the room.

         “It’s ok?”

         “Yes, you worry-wart. Keep going please.”

         “Good. God you look so fucking beautiful right now.” You can practically hear the expression he gets on his face when he thinks you can’t see him; all his features soften and are etched with love. Part of you wishes you could see it, but part of you is eagerly waiting for what he has next.

         You hear the rustling of the sheets as he moves, feel the mattress dip as his weight crosses it, and without words he starts tying you up, first your wrists enveloped by a silky-smooth cloth, then they’re brought to your ankles. As he ties them you groan as you feel the cool air hitting your damp cunt, he hasn’t even really touched you yet and still you’re so aroused and ready for him to take you. Even though you know you’re likely going to have to wait a bit as he explores the new options that he has presented to him.

         His lips make his way to yours as he sweetly kisses you. “You’re muttering again dove, are you sure you’re ok?”

         “Yes, I’m just so fucking horny I want you inside me already.”

         “Well I think I can help you a little bit with that in one minute, just one more thing for you ok? You’re being such a good girl for me.” You whimper a bit at that, with the position you’re tied in, you can’t put any friction onto your aching cunt and it feels like torture.

         You feel a heavy set of what feels like headphones, though you can’t be certain without seeing them, cover your ears, the last thing you can hear is Keigo whispering he loves you until all the outside sound is blocked from you. All you can hear now is the thundering sound of blood in your ears and you shiver in anticipation, tied up and unmoving, unable to see or hear, waiting for your lover to fucking touch you already.

         Goosebumps rise on your skin as Keigo starts slowly stroking your hipbones, his touch still light but you’re so taken by it because all you can do right now is feel. You whimper as a feather comes up to play with your breasts, the touch almost ticklish but in your aroused state, it only serves to make you more sensitive as you mewl out for him to touch you more.

         He listens, as his fingers come to your sensitive areas and you moan loudly in relief as two of his fingers enter your heat up to the first knuckle, his lips starting to kiss and suckle bruises into your sensitive skin. You think you’re being really loud but you can’t tell, the moans and noises you’re making seem magnified because they’re all that you can hear. You feel Keigo muttering words onto your skin but you can’t tell what he’s saying, all you know is that he’s stopped moving his fingers and it’s driving you insane to have something in your heat but not providing any form of relief from his teasing.

         “Keigo, please move!” you plead with him, desperately trying to move your bound body to provide some sense of friction, some sense of deeper penetration as you wail in frustration as he keeps himself deadly still.

         Your breaths are heaving as your legs begin to shake with the strain of holding them up because of the bondage. As soon as you think he’s going to leave you there waiting for a long time, he suddenly thrusts deep into your cunt and you clench around him with a surprised shout. It doesn’t take long for him to build you up to that edge, your body so needy and responsive to his touch, as you praise him, tell him how good it feels. It’s so easy to get lost in the sensation of him pounding his fingers into you as he frantically starts rubbing your clit. You feel yourself clench around him, and he shifts the angle of his fingers a little bit to hit your sweet spot.

         You swear you see lightning in the darkness of your blindfold, your back arching up sharply as you come undone around his fingers with a lewd moan. He keeps pushing in, helping you ride yourself through it, but doesn’t stop. The sensations feel so much more potent than usual, and you try to squirm away from the added stimulation but you can’t. You whimper as he once again brings a feather up to play with your tits as he adds a third and then fourth finger into you.

         You can practically hear his teasing, “but baby, you asked me to touch you, you said you wanted me inside you. That’s all I’m doing babes.” Even in your head he’s smug and deliciously torturous and you cry out again as you feel the tips of his fingers crashing into that spot deep within you, over and over and over again. You’re tightening up once more, hanging onto the feeling of being finger fucked when its all you can focus on, all that you can actually feel happening.

         You can feel yourself about to cum when suddenly you’re empty. “NO! Keigo you fucking bastard! I was so close!” You shout out to him, even though you know you won’t hear a response. You feel tears welling up in your eyes at the desperation you feel in your groin, you were so fucking close.

         Seeing this must stir something in your boyfriend though, because soon enough you feel the weeping head of his cock at your entrance. You wiggle as much as you can, your body ready and waiting for him. With no warning, he sheaths himself inside you completely, and you blissfully feel full again, the curve of his cock pressing into you just right, the vein on the right side scraping your walls amazingly.

         You can feel drool dripping down the side of your face as he pounds into you relentlessly, unable to form any completed thought much less coherent words. You can hear yourself mumbling and groaning out mixtures of praises and his name repeated like a chant. You feel his body shuddering against yours, the excitement and arousal you feel mirrored by him as he leans down and bites at your collarbones, marking you again and again as his, only his.

         You feel yourself clench down on his cock, your release sneaking up on you as his rhythm starts to become more irregular.

His pace gets quicker, your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he frantically pounds into you with almost manic energy. You can feel him shuddering and you know he’s approaching his own end. You clench down on his dick, squeezing him to get him to release inside of you and he comes down with a final bite on the inside of your shoulder. You feel the warm liquid fill you inside, and it feels amazing, and good god how much of it there is. He must have been loving every second of teasing you and every second of pleasing your body.

         He pulls out slowly, kissing softly at the bite that you can feel pulsing and oozing a bit of blood. It feels so much emptier than it usually does, and you can’t help but whimper, you wouldn’t mind him just staying sheathed within you. You feel him murmuring against your skin, and you can feel the love from him in the care he takes with your shaking body, slowly bringing you back from your high and bringing you back into a world where you have all your senses back.

         He starts by cleaning up the mess between your thighs, the touch of the towel rough but relieving to you, the cum already cooling down and starting to stick uncomfortably on your skin. After that’s complete, he begins to untie the nots, with a gentleness so at odds from how hard he’d been pounding into you beforehand. He strokes your skin as he undoes the bondage, kissing your skin and making sure that he hadn’t cut off any blood flow, that you were perfectly safe.

         God how you much you loved him.

         After he was finished with that, he brings you into his arms, having you sit on his lap as he strokes your back. You squeeze his torso and stay pliant in his arms, feeling absolutely pampered and safe. There’s no better feeling than that, you think. He was right though, you do feel completely relaxed, some of the stress leaving your body.

         He lifts off one side of the noise cancelling muffs, and everything sounds so much louder, despite not having your hearing taken for very long.

         “You alright dove? You didn’t use the safe word, but you seemed pretty far gone for a moment.”

         You hum. “It felt amazing Keigo, but good lord, you’re such a tease you know that?”

         He chuckles softly at that. “I’m sorry but you look and feel so good when you’re all flustered and riled up. I love it.” All his motions are slow now, relaxed as he slowly gives you back all the senses you’d been missing; the other side of the muff coming off when he thinks you’ve had ample time to recover.

         When your blindfold comes off, you see his wrecked hair and red cheeks and you’re so grateful for the time you’ve gotten to spend with him during these trying times.

         You softly kiss him. “Bath time?”

         “Of course, Y/N. Let’s get us both cleaned up then love.” The two of you get up, holding hands, and you don’t let go even in the large bathtub until you actually have to, to get cleaned up.

         For the first time in a while, the two of you are both spent, relaxed and completely happy, and if there’s any better feeling in the world; you’d probably never find it.

[blueberrysets]

WITH OR WITHOUT DEATH

pairing: grim reaper!sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

genre: fluff and angst, probs more angst

warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activites, mentions of death, angst at the end

word count:  2,482

summary: sakusa was used to a lonely life when he became the notorious grim reaper. he got the cards with the time, place, date, and person of who’s soul he needed to collect, then he would go do his job then leave. that was until he met the bubbly waitress at the 50′s diner with terrible puns but amazing apple pie. if only the council could allow him to keep one, pure soul with him.

reccomended song to listen to: sparks by coldplay

an: okay hI! I’m actually really proud of this little thing I just wrote. This scenario actually takes place in a supernatural realm that I have been developing for ageesss. I’m actually really contemplating on writing a second part to this, so let me know if you’d like that! AND/OR making a writing collection with more haikyuu boys in this universe!! I think it would be really cool to write a supernatural au for the haikyuu boys. lol n e ways, let me know what you think and enjoy!!

sakusa’s breath gets caught in his throat at the mere sight of her. he stands across the street, adorned in his usual black attire and black panama-style hat. a mask covering his identity to the world as he peered into the small diners’ window. she stood behind the counter, chatting with the regulars as she fills up their coffee mugs. a bright smile etched across her face, filling the room with so much joy that his undead heart probably couldn’t withstand it. however for her, it was worth it.

the tacky baby blue waitress outfit matched the 50’s style diner, the color contrasting nicely against her skin. her hair cascades nicely down her back, curled for the dress code she has to withstand. 

“it’s cheesy,” he remembers her telling him one night during her late shift, “but I kind of like it, in a charming way.”

it was always the same routine with them; he shows up at the diner at random times, she doesn’t ask questions as she fetches him his usual order, then she sends him that pretty smile of hers as she leans closer to him to talk about his secret. she was the only living soul to know of it, and the only living soul to have an unknown power over him. he wouldn’t trust it with others, but her? he would lay down his own life to hear her whisper his name just one more time.

the rain falling soaks into his black, wool coat. protecting his skin from the harsh air of late autumn. he finally decides to make his way inside the overly hot diner, before he has another soul to guide. he only sees her when death is present, he wouldn’t be in the human realm for any other reason. that was part of his deal to the council. how amusing is it to be a highly respected, yet exiled demon. the human realm was dirty anyways, in more ways than one. covered in diseases, pervs, assholes, and incubuses that feed daily. they annoyed him the most. loosely throwing around their name like it isn’t the thing that controls them, they just like how their name sounds when a human moans it. disgusting.

his long, bony fingers reach out to pull open the door. the heat hitting him in the face like a sharp slap, knocking the breath out of you if you aren’t prepared for it. the familiar ding from the bells attached to the handle fills the slightly empty diner. only a man sitting at the bar with a burger and a man sitting in a booth with a newspaper fill the occupants. yet his gaze is set on the girl in front of him that turns to meet his eyes. another bubbly smile stretches across her face as she places her hands on her hips. 

“well, hey there stranger,” she states, a slight twang in her voice. he walks closer to the bar, sitting on the awkwardly high bar stool as she places his fresh black coffee in front of him, “long time no see, grim.”

she gently takes off his hat, tousling the curls that are hidden underneath it. he likes to think that she’s fixing his hat hair, but in reality she messes it up more. she finds it endearing how the usual put together grim reaper and can have the cutest curls to frame his face. she places his hat on the counter beside him before hooking a finger into his black mask to pull it down his face. if it were anyone else, he would’ve bitten off their finger and disinfected his whole body from the human diseases. dead or not, it still makes his skin crawl. her, however, she’s so pure and untainted. 

her soul gives off a vibrant, white light. it glows nicely in the middle of her chest, as if waiting for any sort of sin to darken its glow. he also finds it adorable when her eyes brighten a smidge more to see his full face. even with the gray undertone in his skin color, the soulless eyes, and the eye bags; she stares at him like he’s the most beautiful thing to walk this earth. the mask now rests underneath his chin and her eyes are in delight with what she sees. before he could fully examine her face in the close proximity, she leans away to turn her attention to the man two seats down from him. 

“want a refill, mr. k?” she questions as she reaches over to grab the pitcher full of water. 

a single letter, that’s what high ranked demons go by in the human realm. you see, if you know the real name of a demon you have full power over them. it’s crucial for demons in power to keep it hidden, that’s why they usually have humans call them by their first initial. sakusa peers his eyes over to be met with the familiar gray locks of one of his colleagues. koushi sugawara, a hellhound. his usual kind stare meets sakusa’s dead stare, sending a small smile his way. sugawara then turns back to wipe the corners of his mouth one more time with his napkin, placing it on top of his now empty plate. 

“no thank you, sugar,” he states softly as he placed money onto the counter, sliding it her way, “keep the change, honey.”

“you got it, mr. k,” she gleams at him, her eyes squinting slightly from her big smile, “you have a nice night now.” 

sugawara stands from the stool, grabbing his jacket that rests on the chair next to him. shrugging it onto his shoulders as he turns his attention to sakusa sitting next to him. 

“it’s nice to see you again grim,” he nods towards him, “still looking as dead as ever.”

“you as well,” he mumbles towards sugawara, a hand being placed on his shoulder to give a light squeeze before he walks out of the diner. he respects sugawara, as he was one of the few that fought for him during his hearing with the council.

his eyes lazily make their way back towards her, to be taken back by how close she was to him. her elbow rests next to his, her head tilting slightly to rest on her hand. her eyes wide and curious as she pushes the slice of apple pie closer to him. steam coming from the fresh pie and tickling his nose slightly, but the aroma fills his nostrils as his stomach rumbles slightly in hunger. why she was so close to him with that look? he wasn’t sure, causing his eyebrows to knit together in confusion as he picks up his utensils to eat her signature apple pie.

“well,” she asks, her eyes still wide. 

“well what?” he asks back, finally taking a bite. his tastebuds doing a victory dance with the deliciousness that covered them, physically having to hold back a groan after the sweetness hits him. 

“what kind of death was it today?” she asks, her head lifting from her hand as she places it on the counter. leaning slightly closer to him, if he leans in a little more as well their noses would be touching. 

he knows that she does this to keep it quiet between them, but it’s a well known fact that he is the grim reaper. people always ask questions about the unusual deaths he sees on a regular basis. however, he appreciates that she respects his privacy. even though she is a curious little thing. he swallows his food before he answers, the fork still being gripped in his hand. 

“hit and run,” he says with a smirk. 

“tch,” she sneers as she leans back from him, grabbing the rag damp with disinfectant as she begins viciously wiping down the counter, “so much for humanity.”

“what do you mean by that?” he asks with curiosity as he takes another bite.

“well, i mean,” she starts, slightly stuttering over her words. she stops wiping as she stares off behind him, trying to come up with an explanation for how she’s feeling. “I’m beginning to lose my faith in humanity. I mean for crying out loud! we now walk freely with vampires, werewolves, witches, demons! you would think more deaths would be caused by that, but no. it’s still humans killing humans, and i’m glad you help them pass over. you’re more human than any human i have ever met.”

her words drift off at the end as a bashful state takes over her demeanor. the tips of her ears redden as she focuses her gaze on the counter instead of him. it was at this moment, that sakusa knew he would do something he would regret that night. he clenched his jaw as he contemplated his next words. 

“when does your shift end?” he asks in his usual monotones voice. 

her eyes shift to his, expecting him to lecture her about how he was a demon and she shouldn’t say things like that so carelessly. she was used to his scolding, he did it to her quite often. she swallows and licks her lips before replying.

“9 pm.”

“great, ten minutes for me to finish my pie,” he smiles, “let’s go for a walk after.”

                                                  _____________

it’s been fifteen minutes since they first started their walk. his wool coat covers her exposed legs from the cold as her eyes remain upwards towards the night sky. stars twinkle down on them as their comfortable silence is wrapped around them. her mind is gushing over the beauty of the stars, but also over the beauty of him and the two little moles stacked on his forehead. his mind is running a full marathon on how to word his thoughts correctly to her. he’s too analytical, never the one to easily express his emotions. but tonight, for her, he would give it a try. 

his mask remains tucked underneath his chin as his eyes remain on the ground. his bottom lip being gnawed at nervously before he takes a deep breath in. as he releases it sharply, he stops his strides next to her. causing her to halt as well, her head looks back at him as she stopped a bit in front of him.

“everything alright?” she asks in a soothing voice. 

“in all of my years, alive and undead, i have never encountered something like you,” he whispers, his gaze still on the ground. 

“what?” she whispers back, taking a few steps closer to him. the fog of their breaths mixing together at their proximity, she hugs his coat closer to her body as she searches for his gaze to meet his.

“in all of my years, i have never encountered something like you,” he states confidently, his dead  eyes now peering into her much livelier ones. “I have met countless of people, and it’s always the same feeling with them. the greed, the lust, the wrath; it’s always one of those deadly sins that have overtaken their souls. it became redundant, annoying even, to see all of the unruly human souls running around doing whatever they want. then I met you, in a little rundown 24 hour diner with the brightest, purest glow emitting from you. you live for selfless deeds, you put yourself before others, you’re hardworking, honest, beautiful, kind, and everything that it takes to awaken my undead soul. it would stupid for me to say that I am not completely in love with you.”

“grim,” she breathes out, her eyes filling with tears over the beautiful words that he has spoken about her. but more importantly, what it would mean for him, for them.

“you know everything about me, even my weak points. you know about my exile, you know about the little human memories i have left, you know how to summon me, you know my name,” he speaks with raw emotion as his skinny hands reach for her face, the plumpness of her cheeks resting nicely in the palm of his hands, “and i’m terrified of how weak I am for you. yet, i can’t hold it in anymore. you speak so highly of me that i feel alive, but i’m not. god, you make me feel so holy.  like i could walk into heaven right now. yet, i would kill a man if you just gave me a name.”

one of her hands rests on top of his, her eyes never leaving his. a single tear runs down her face, the first drop for a hurricane. his thumb wipes it away, along with the many more that come after it. 

“I’m about to do something, and you and I both know what will happen after this happens,” he explains quietly as he takes one of his hands from her face and wraps it around her waist to pull her closer to him, “but please indulge me, in my own personal sin.”

after the last syllable of the word leaves his lips, he dips his head down to capture her lips with his own. the kiss is deep and full of raw, pure emotion. his grip on her is tight, because he knows that once they separate she’ll have to say it. but all she could focus on was his lips against hers. the saltiness of her tears could be tasted on lips. his skin, which is usually ice cold, is the complete opposite to his warm lips. they fit nicely against hers and move with experience as he continues to deepen the kiss. it seems as if hours had pass in the small minutes of them kissing. she didn’t want it to end, she didn’t want him to pull away. but he did. as soon as their lips part, a sob escapes her body as he rests his forehead against hers.

“send me away, y/n,” he says in a stern, yet soft tone, his hold still tight on her.

“I can’t,” she croaks out, her voice filled with sorrow as her body continues to shake with sobs, “please don’t make me.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispers as pulls her closer to him, “i’m so sorry. but you and i both know, you have to.”

another cry is released as she pushes her face into his chest. her hands gripping the black turtleneck sweater, her tears wetting the shirt as well. he can only hold her, rubbing soothing circles into her back as a single tear runs down his cheek as well.

“please go away,” she sobs, “kiyoomi.”

 once his name leaves her lips, her wish is his command. he vanishes in thin air, a black smoke replacing where he once was. as she sinks down to hug her knees into her chest, she promised to herself that she would see him again.

with or without death. 

[fragileizywriting]

locker talk (chapter 2) is out now!

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 8,961 / 16,208 (in total) chapter: 2/3 rating: E summary: “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Did something happen at Uni, again?” “I’m peachy,” Multimouse wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.” Luka barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks.

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

Thank you so much for the love you've given me for this fic! I appreciate every single one of you so much 💕💕💕💕

The third chapter will be posted very soon!!!

She’s showered. She’s shaved. She’s gotten shampoo in her eye.

She hopes the redness isn’t noticeable.

Multimouse is many things— friendly, approachable, known as Paris’s sweetheart with many sweet bakery treats named after her using puns, such as Multi-feuille, or Multideleines— but they have no idea that she sits on top of the Liberty’s roof, wiggling her toes over the Seine, trying not to bite her lips raw at the thought of trying to seduce the guy she’s already had a feverish moment with.

It’s a soft night, with small dots of twinkling stars that burn and force their way through the light-polluted Parisian night, but she doesn’t mind how it’s dark enough out that no one can really see her unless they purposely go looking for her. She’s practically invisible, with the closest street lamp to her still being too far away for her to be illuminated by it. No one knows that she’s here— no one knows that she’s hiding in the shadows.

Quiet— quaint— small and hidden away like an actual mouse that sticks to the shadows so that she isn’t seen. She’s not sure if it’s Mullo’s instincts that coerce her to stick to the shadows or if it’s just her nerves.

After all— getting here, onto the Liberty, was half of the battle for her.

She’s never done this before. She’s never even considered this an option… how does she do this? She doesn’t even have a solid plan.

And Multimouse never not has a plan.

Even if she knows that Viperion— no, Luka— likes her, thinks about her sexually— she just can’t shake the feeling that her confession isn’t going to work out in her favor, that she’s going to walk away embarrassed and humiliated.

She can prepare and prepare again and over prepare for whatever she’s planning all she wants— but it’s the actual doing part that she usually gets stuck on. She can shower, she can shave, she can get shampoo in her eyes— she can text Juleka to maybe casually imply that she’s going to try to confess to her brother, not mentioning that she’s going to do it as her superhero identity instead of Marinette, and actually get Juleka to push everyone out of the house on one nice and evening Friday night— but none of that matters if she doesn’t actually get here.

She got here.

And now is dawdling on the next step— actually talking to him.

She has to try. Juleka had cleared the boat of stragglers in record time when she found out that she’d been planning on confessing to her brother— Multimouse seriously has no idea how the girl managed to get her mother off the boat, but she’s gone. It’s just him in there now. She’s grateful that she doesn’t have access to her nails to chew them through, because she’s shaking like a battery from how much her nerves consume her.

She plays with her necklace between her hands as she leans forward to put her elbows on her thighs, looking out to the water below— looking down at how the only open-blind window on the boat flickers with light as he passes next to it.

It sounds like he’s finished taking his shower— but all of it is really muffled, given that he lives in the equivalent of a metal can with sails— but either way, she stands up and starts to creep her way towards the front entrance of his house before she can convince herself that this is a bad idea and that she should turn around and book it and pretend that she never thought of this idea in the first place. Besides, it can’t be that bad of an idea, right?

This is a bad idea.

This is a very bad idea— oh— oh no.

She barely finishes knocking on the window next to the door before he pulls it open with a yelp and a curse spilling out of his lips, halfway through putting on his shirt. She stands there, transfixed, trying not to burst into flames as she catches the sight of toned and defined muscle from years of hard-earned wins against Hawkmoth disappear behind the widest shirt in existence with a heavy-metal band logo she’s never heard of, and how those muscles trail down and disappear into very low-riding sweatpants.

She knows he has muscles— she knows how big his arms are and that the pattern of his scales on his suit aren’t just to give the illusion of abs— because she’s seen him many times before with barely anything of a shirt on when the summer heat in Paris is too rough and everyone piles onto the Liberty to attempt to catch a draft.

She’s seen the way his back muscles move when he’s helping tear down stage sets for his band— she’s had many glass bottles of soda slip out of her hands at the sight of him naturally keeping up with Ivan and Kim’s strength— she’s seen all of it. Luka is nothing short of strong.

But now she knows just how it feels to have those same muscles pressed up against her. She might faint. “Uhm.”

“Hey! Sorry— I didn’t know you were going to come over tonight— you scared me with that knock. I thought I had the whole boat to myself.” Luka smiles at her, using his arm with the snake tattoo that wraps and coils around his forearm to pull out a couple necklaces of his own from underneath his shirt. Even though the shirt is wide, it seems to have a bit of a problem wrapping comfortably around his shoulders— and the neckline is wide enough to show his collarbones.

What does she even focus on? What does she want to look at the most?

“Sorry—” She blinks fast. Shirt. Chest. Arms. Sweatpants. Smile. Lips. Lips that bruised her neck so badly she had to keep her hair down for the entire week just to hide it from Alya’s enthusiastic gaze. Kissable lips. Lips she imagines all over her body all the time. Lips that— “S-sorry! Uhm. I’m just, uh— I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“I’m kidding, Mousey—” He’s all teeth when he smiles. She knows how those feel on her skin now, too— she knows how it feels to have him drag his mouth and lips all over her jaw— she has to lean against the door frame to stop herself from collapsing from how much she wants to feel it all over again. Her skin feels sensitive just at the thought. “I just got out of the shower and it was totally quiet out there. Really did think it was just going to be a quiet night by myself. Even mom’s out— probably went to go harass that last cop that gave her warning for the noise complaint. What do you think?”

Had he thought about her in the shower? He’s not flushed at all— nothing indicative of anything he had said inside the closet about how he’s always thinking of her— but Luka’s usually not one to lose his cool. It’s impossible to get a gauge out of his emotions when he hides it— something he’s incredibly good at when he’s Viperion. She’s shown up after his shower— presumably the time where he thinks about her in the most private way— and there’s absolutely nothing telling her that it’s true.

She never would’ve known if he hadn’t told her in the closet.

Assuming he even was telling the truth…

“Mousey?”

She snaps back into focus. “Oh! Right! Uhm— are you busy? D-do you want me to leave? Come back another time? When you’re not busy? Very busy?”

“Busy? Yeah, right,” He snorts good humoredly. “Busy on my laptop watching videos, probably. This place is an absolute bust when there’s no one here— you’re doing me a favor by being here.”

“S-so you don’t want me to leave?” She eeps. If he even makes one single implication that he doesn’t want her to show up, she’ll turn around and leave with no hesitation— her nerves are eating at her to the point where she’s ready to run anyways.

“No, of course not. Stay. Please.” He adjusts his necklaces to stop tangling with each other. They jingle when they hit together— a pleasant clinking noise on a pleasant night, but she’s busy taking in how shiny and pearlescent his arm is with the beautiful blue color on the coils of the snake’s body and how it matches the gold diamond shapes in strategic places. “You’re always welcome here, you know. I love it when you’re here.”

“Yep— yes. Totally.”

His hair is so much blacker and so much more bluer when it’s wet. She can’t stop staring at him, her mouth shaped into a circle, as he looks down at her with a shift in his brows when he’s stopped focusing on his necklaces. “You okay?”

“Wet.”

He blinks very slowly, speaking to her so softly, almost as if she’ll scamper off if he startles her. “Oh. Are you?”

“I meant— I meant your hair—” She squeaks, trying her best not to catch on fire from the way her cheeks heat and steam, waving her hands in the air, steaming harder when he laughs. “Sorry— oh my gooseberries I’m so sorry— that was so weird I didn’t mean to say that outloud, I mean, I just, I didn’t know you wash your hair at night— uhm— it just caught me by surprise!”

“Take a breath,” He smiles.

“Sorry,” She does.

“You need to work on your meditation again, you’re not focusing as well as you usually do.” He tilts his head with a wink. She tries her best not to follow the drops of water down his neck, down to where there’s a very obvious bruise on the side of his neck. Oh. Oh. She did that. She… she did that. She bit him. And grinded on him. And listened to him talk about how much he wanted to finger her— “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little lost. Something happen at Uni again?”

“I’m peachy,” She wheezes, snapping back into focus. What was she even doing here, again? What was the point of showing up? She can’t even remember. Right. Right. Seduce him. Sort of. Or at least confess. Or at least get to kiss him again… “Perfectly peachy. Everything is so much wetter— better— now that I’m here. Nothing happened at school— I just— oh gooseberries.”

He barks out a laugh, running his fingers through his hair. She wonders if his hair is as soft as it looks. “Alright, let’s backtrack for a bit so you get your focus back. Do you not wash your hair at night?”

She’s so thankful for this man.

“My hair is too thick for that, I need to wash it in the mornings or it’ll never dry.” She ignores her voice crack. What is she doing, talking about hair care at his door, eyes missile-locked onto the bite mark on his neck? Why is she like this? “A-anyway! Sorry to— drop in on you— I know it’s really late— uhm— I just wanted to, uh— talk? To you? Maybe? But, again, it’s okay if you’re busy— watching videos is always really fun, isn’t it? I totally won’t mind—”

“You’re thinking too much, Mousey.” He grins. “It’s fine. I’ve never not wanted you here before, right? Let’s shut the door before someone sees you.”

As if Paris would believe anyone gossipping about Paris’s sweetheart dropping by a houseboat in the middle of the city, chatting up a man only a year older than her during the night time. She’s pretty sure that everyone is convinced that she’s perpetually stuck at the age of fifteen, instead of twenty four— always too small and too cinnamon roll and too pure to be sneaking into men’s houses, because that’s not what Multimouse does.

Sometimes being adored by millions and being put on a pedestal by this city is taxing. She doesn’t mind being considered sweet and friendly— but it’s exhausting to have to hear the slight infantilization the city ends up pushing on her. Maybe she should try cursing in public during a fight— see how many people she ends up disappointing.

She wonders if Luka hates being considered the silent, brooding type. He’s approachable— but most people on the internet and Alya’s commenters on the blog assume that he’s dark— mysterious— handsome and well spoken almost like a prince.

If only.

He has a mouth of a sailor. She’s seen him get coffee foam up his nose from laughter whenever she tries the aerial rope and continuously ends up failing. He doesn’t know how to swim, even though he lives on a boat— he writes so much music in his notebooks that his room is an absolute mess of paper that he tries to keep organized using folders and binders and sticking loose leafs of poetry on the walls.

The last time they watched a documentary about penguins, he’d cried the whole way through, talking about how he wishes he could help all the exhausted and freezing little chicks. Not to mention whenever there’s a documentary about rodents on the television, he ends up crying too, smothering her in hugs that makes her face burst into flames.

The comments did get it right about the handsome, though. Very handsome.

“A-are you sure?”

“Come on. I want you inside.”

She closes the door behind her, making sure that her tail isn’t snipped off on accident, trying not to loop the words come and I and want and you in her head. Even with all the nasty, absolutely dirty things he’s said to her already— somehow that manages to get her knees to almost buckle.

“So, uhm, is your family home? Juleka? Maybe?” Her voice is absolutely not this high! Get it together!

He blinks at her curiously, thinning his lips as he no-doubt tries to keep his laughter in. Luka’s always been a tease. “You know the answer to that, don’t you?”

Does he mean that he knows that Marinette was supposed to show up to his house? Oh, no. What has she done? Was it a bad idea telling Juleka to possibly go to Rose’s house, and maybe spend the night there, if all went well? How does she get out of this one? “W-well— I—”

“Best hearing in Paris, after all, right? You’d be able to hear if anyone else was on the boat with us.”

Duh. God, she feels like an idiot. “Y-yeah. I know. I just— I just wanted to know. To hear you say it, I mean.”

“Did you?” His face transforms into one full of humor, and she can do nothing but bite her lip raw at how handsome he is when his eyes crinkle in that boyish way of his. “What did you want to hear me say, Mousey?”

Anything. Everything. As long as he keeps talking, she’ll be miserable— but loving every moment of it, and he’ll have no idea because Luka doesn’t know that she knows he’s Viperion and thinks about his voice so often that she’s constantly balancing on a hair trigger.

“Uhm—” She taps her fingers along her thighs. “I— you know— I just wanted to hear you say that we’re alone.”

“Only that?” He hums, turning around to go probably drop off his towel back in the bathroom.

“Yes?” She’s never been so unsure before in her life, and she flounders as she follows him further into the boat, following him into his room just past the kitchen. “I mean yes obviously— why would I— need or want more— uhm— that would be— weird and definitely wouldn't make any contextual sense— I mean it’s not as if I—”

He pauses to look at her. She does her absolute best not to burst into flames. “You know, I’ve never realized it until now— you are absolutely one horny girl, little mouse. Dropping by and immediately asking me to start pillow talking you—”

She doesn’t even hear him, bouncing on the balls of her boots, squeaking a floorboard that is always loose no matter how much the Couffaines try to glue or hammer it down. She’s certain she’s watched them rip out just to put back a new floorboard— and yet it still continues to squeak. “That’s not true! That’s totally not true I’m— you know— I’m just—”

“Yes?”

“It’s just that your voice is melodical— it’s so soothing and you know I have anxiety and things but being able to hear your voice always makes me calm down— it’s so nice to just— just relax— and let someone else think of things for me—”

“Breathe, Mousey.”

“Thank you.” She gasps in air, proving his point for him.

His eyes shine with something as she sucks in her breaths. “How long have you been waiting for me to pull you inside and take care of you?”

She whines, crossing her arms. “You’re being totally unfair right now, Luka, you can’t just start talking dirty to me—”

He laughs, pulling open the door to his room. “I’m not talking dirty to you, not yet.”

“And just assume that I’ll listen—”

He pauses again to look at her, and it’s enough to make her bite her lip by how absolutely jaw-dropping he looks. “Oh, you won’t? And here I thought that’s what you wanted. Is that not what you wanted?”

“What do you—”

His eyelashes are black smudges against his cheeks as his gaze drops to her lips when he brushes her jaw with the back of his hand. “Do you not want me to take care of you in the way you want? Do you not want me to tell you all of the filthiest things you want to hear?”

“Gooseberries you have no idea how much I’ll listen if you do because I will— I promise you I will— I mean I’ll do anything as long as you keep talking— I promise— I’ll be good for you, I promise—” She almost smacks her forehead in an attempt to stop squeaking out her words, instead choosing to nearly rub her cheeks raw with her gloves.

Gentle and giant hands reach for her wrists with such slowness it almost boarders asinine. “Hey. Don’t hurt yourself— that looks like it hurts.”

She drops her hands from her face without question, letting him pet and smooth away the redness from her skin. “But— I— come on, I have to focus first! At least let me try to say what I came here to say, don’t just immediately flip the script back on me!”

He turns to walk into his room, leaving her standing there, looking around and wondering if that was an invitation to start talking. He’s cleaned his room a bit— there’s no laundry on the floor this time— but his room still continues to look like a snake’s den from how cluttered it is.

He sits down comfortably in that pouf chair of his, the one she’s always wondered how it fit through the front door. Maybe they floated it in through the window, she’s not sure. It’s massive— huge— full of stuffing and fun to sit on whenever she’s here for a party and is starting to feel drunk, or here to goof off in his presence whenever it’s just the two of them and she has nothing better to do. It’s close enough to Luka’s bed that it feels like a challenge, for her, and she always feels victorious whenever she manages to convince herself to sit there.

“How long have you known, Mull?”

“K-known what?” She freezes at the doorframe, finally realizing what’s happened when he simply spins the leather strap of his miraculous on his wrist, looking at her with raised brows. “Uhm.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh oh. Oh no. Oh no. How did you—”

“I don’t think you make it a habit of begging any man you come across, unless you know who they are already.”

“I— yes— only you, Luka. I’ve only begged for you.” She nods very slowly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” Some form of a thought twinkles in his eyes as he says it. “Not yet, at least. Don’t freak out, it’s okay that you know. I kind of figured you knew. It’s okay.”

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

“But—” She gestures around. “How?”

He tilts his head, looking at her with such a curious face. “Intuition, I guess. Or maybe paranoia. Hey, have you known for longer than a year?”

“Ah—” She shifts on her feet. “No. Sort of. I kinda was guessing it, but— I mean— I got genuine confirmation about a month ago.”

“Have you been showing up because you knew?”

“No, no. I didn’t know when I first started showing up— I’ve been showing up because I really like you— you as in Luka, that is. And then I found Sass playing hide and seek with Mullo when I went to the bathroom, and, well I totally didn’t know what to do when I found out that you were actually in fact my partner— and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you and by then I— I had already— fallen in— uhm— with you on both sides—”

This takes him by surprise. “You’ve been here detransformed?”

She pinches her eyes shut. “Uhm—”

“We know each other, don’t we?” He exhales. “That— I mean— that does make sense. You are always so conveniently close by whenever there’s an Akuma that attacks the Liberty— and only god fucking knows why it’s always the Liberty. You’d think my mom would learn after a while to stop picking fights with the cops. Or the government in general. This place is a breeding ground for Akumas— Hawkmoth is one day just going to set up camp around here, I think.”

He taps at his jaw as he thinks. No doubt he’s trying to place her as one of his friends— or maybe his sister’s.

“It’s a good thing Couffaines know how to party, right?” She eeps into the silence, trying not to bolt for the door. Would he try following her? Would he grab her and pin her down so she can’t try to give up from how embarrassed she is? Would he let her go? She’d be far too easy to catch, if he did go after her— she’s weak at the knees at the idea of being in his arms again. “I mean— It’s always so much fun being here but I understand if you don’t want me to— to show up— anymore— and—”

“Little mouse, I hope you know I’m not mad. I can’t be mad at you.” Those six little words makes her legs weak by how thankful she is. She could weep— already starting to feel how her eyes water at the words. “I’d never be mad at you for knowing. I just— I wish I knew sooner, too.”

“I didn’t know what to do—” She hunches her shoulders, trying her absolute best not to curl in on herself but not having too much of a say in it as her body goes through the motions on its own. “I couldn’t just stop showing up, cause then you’d suspect it—”

“It would’ve been okay if you had told me, just like there’s nothing wrong with you telling me now.” He extends out his arm, asking for her hand.

She hides her face in her gloves. “I’m sorry. I really, really am sorry, Luka— I really f-fucked up.”

“No you didn’t.”

Those words fill her stomach with butterflies, stopping her from forming any more tears. “I— I didn’t?”

“Of course not, Mull. It’s okay.”

“But I—”

“It’s alright— I know why you didn’t tell me— it’s okay. I’m not upset at you— I’m not disappointed.” He gives her a smile. “Come here. You look like you’re about to cry— I don’t want you to cry.”

She crosses into his room, making sure to step over the scattered amps and repeaters— his guitar case, too— willingly reaching for his hand by giving him four of her fingers. His smile widens when she makes contact with his hands— his fingernails nearly as black as her suit.

His thumb rubs against the hexleather that wraps around her knuckles, and she tries her best not to sound so needy when she drops to her knees so they can be at a better height with each other. She doesn’t like it when she’s taller, so she fits between the opening of his legs just enough so she can place her forearm on his thighs, looking up at him with what she hopes is a thankful smile, even as her eyesight wavers.

“Congratulations on saying your first curse word,” He pets underneath her eyes with a laugh. She can’t feel it, because of the domino mask, but it’s comforting enough to her that her eyes squint at the sensation. “I never thought I’d be the one to hear it first.”

“I’ve cursed before,” Her smile twitches as she tries not to giggle despite the tears that collect at the sides of her eyes. “I just don’t make it a habit.”

“Oh yeah? What other curse words have you said?”

“I think I’ve said ‘ass’ before.” She has to think about it, much to his amusement. “Well. If I hadn’t before, I guess I have now.”

His laughter consumes him. “What a milestone.”

“You’ve been many of my firsts,” She smiles with him. “Maybe hopefully all of them can be with you, too?”

His face blossoms in color— she’s never seen him caught so off guard before. Maybe he isn’t as cool and collected as she’s always thought— maybe he does actually get satisfaction when she says what’s on her mind about how she’s wanting to have everything with him. “God, who are you, Mull? Who’s the girl of my dreams who keeps telling me she wants everything I can give her? Is it even a good idea to tell me?”

“You can know,” She nods, shivering as he brushes her jawline with his black nails and back of his palm. She likes these gentle touches— she likes the way it feels to have such a loving hand on her. “It’s only fair.”

“Hmmm, no. I want you to tell me if you want to tell me.” His eyes narrow at her. “Don’t tell me just to even the playing field. If you want to remain anonymous, I don’t mind.”

It always worries her at how plain kind and loyal he is. He would be completely right if he decided to kick her out— or to turn her away— but instead of any anger or resentment he’s simply there.

He’s always there for her— always making sure that she’s okay. If she’s eaten. If she’s going to get home safely, when the Akuma attacks are at night. It’s hard not to fall in love with a man who cares about her in the way he does. He’s always been a nurturing man— he’s never hard on her, even when he has the right to be.

Well. He’s only hard on her when they’re stuck in a closet together.

“You don’t?”

“Okay, maybe that’s a bit of a lie,” Luka smiles as he looks down at her. His sweatpants are soft against her cheek as she continues to blink slowly up at him, trying not to purse her lips in want. “I’m very curious about who you are, Mousey. I’ve always wondered who’s the girl underneath— I’ve known you since we were fifteen. Of course I want to know more about the girl who takes up so much of my notebooks.”

“I don’t mind you knowing.” She eeps.

“You don’t?”

“No— not at all! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, really, Luka. Our friends kept telling me to try asking you out— god, Jules especially, but I— I really couldn’t do any of it, I kept chickening out.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“And then I found out that it’s so much easier to talk to you when I’m in the suit— so I— I kept trying to get the courage to ask you out in the suit and then I found out that you’re Viperion and I just didn’t know how to handle it— so I just— and then the closet— and I made up my mind to tell you— you— today about my feelings. Pretty sure your sister was going to fillet me alive if I texted her saying I couldn’t do it. ”

Something clicks in his head, she can see it. “Marinette.”

“Well, yeah, I mean I could’ve tried as myself but I mean I don’t have any faith in myself at all—” She almost bites her tongue. “What?”

“Marinette?” He tilts his head. “The only person I know that could be your height— could be your size— and a girl I’ve barely been able to get a couple of sentences out of.”

“Hi.” Multimouse says, trying to swallow, but somehow not being able to. “Yes. That’s me?”

“Hi,” His smile softens. “That makes sense, you know. Juleka even thought that the hickey on my neck was from you when she saw it, and I didn’t understand why.”

How mortifying. “S-she did?”

“Oh. Oh. That’s why you ended up in my bed that one night, isn’t it? Because you like me and you were too drunk to stop wanting to cuddle?”

She worries her lip between her teeth. His gaze drops to watch her chew her bottom lip almost raw. “Oh. Yes— that’s— uhm. Please don’t hate me— I’m sorry— your bed has always looked so comfortable— and I really wanted to sleep next to you—”

“Take a breath, Mari.” His eyes glitter when she sucks in a breath on command. She would feel embarrassed by how easy it is for her to comply, but all she feels is warmth that starts to coil in between her legs whenever he tells her to do something. “It’s okay. I’m so happy it’s you.”

“You are? You don’t hate me?”

“Absolutely don’t hate you. I’d never be able to hate you— how could I hate you?”

“No?”

“Never.”

“Not even if I got us stuck in a closet together for an hour—”

“Definitely not then, either.” He grins. “Fuck, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that. About you.”

“M-me neither,” She confesses easily, trying not to shift too much between his legs. “I— I’ve been wanting— uhm—”

“Ah, yes. That. You can say it, can’t you?” He leans forward so that she has to lean back in order to not get her face shoved into his chest from the angle. “Can you say it for me? I want to hear you say it, if you’re willing.”

She cranes her neck up to look at him square in the eyes, still sitting on her folded knees and calves, looking at the way his mouth quirks to the side as he licks his teeth. His necklaces dangle— jingle like dog tags between them— hitting her lightly on the collarbone but with just enough pressure to make her make a noise that sounds like an unf. “I— uhm— I’ve been wanting more. Ever since we did it in the closet.”

He almost looks surprised at her admission. “Good job, Mull.”

She feels a little brave. “I want to— if you’re willing— spend the night with you. Please.”

He groans. “Of course I want to spend the night with you. Every night. Keep you here in my room for weeks— you don’t have to ask if I’m willing— but it’s nice to hear it. It always reminds me at how good of a person you are.”

Warmth explodes on her cheeks as she blushes. “I’ve— I’m— I have to ask.”

“I know.”

“I know that I’m the one that is always so shy and timid— but— you deserve to have your boundaries respected too, Luka.”

“I think I like this better than when you call me Vai,” He laughs. He kisses her on the cheek— below the eyelids— where the lip of her domino mask meets skin— missing her mouth entirely even as she turns to try to meet him. She tries not to whine as she grips the fabric that bunches at his knees. “Not that the nickname isn’t good— it’s perfect— but you don’t understand just how many times I jack off while thinking about you calling me by my real name, Mousinette.”

She squeaks at the nickname, trying not to blossom into a full-body red. “I— how many times?”

“Every night,” He says simply, like he’s relaying the weather. He has no idea how his words burn in her core— why her tail becomes so agitated, even if it’s only half sentient— why exactly she gasps as she feels a sharp zing that settles between her legs. “I’m so glad that Marinette ended up being the little mouse I think about every night.”

“Every—?”

“Imagine my surprise, getting out of a shower after thinking about nothing but you and all the noises you made in my ear and seeing you stand there in front of my door.” He grins against her skin. Will he bite her? Snatch her and keep her? Use her as nothing but a bed warmer? “Fuck, Mousey. If I hadn’t been debating on whether or not you knew I would’ve dragged you into my room and onto my bed without even saying hello.”

“Please. Please.” She swallows, the idea of never leaving his burrow almost making her want to pounce on him. “I want that.”

“It’s getting harder and harder to stop thinking about you when you’re gone.”

“W-why?”

“You don’t think I can forget about you after that wonderful performance you gave me, do you?” Even when not transformed, and he doesn’t have any fangs, his teeth graze along her skin in a way that makes her toes twitch in her boots. She shivers as he follows her neck up to the patch of skin behind the ear, nosing into the sensitive area to the point where she pants. “I’ll be honest, I came home that night wanting more.”

“I— I can— give you more,” She tilts her head to the side, letting him kiss and suck bruises into her skin. She bruises like a peach, usually, and for the second time in her life she’s so thankful for how pale her skin is. “S-so much more.”

“Can you?”

“Please— I can give you anything you’d like, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it—”

“Within reason, of course.”

“Within reason,” She parrots, but more out of politeness than anything else. It’s only fair for her to agree— she obviously doesn’t want to be uncomfortable throughout any of this— but her list of potential no’s is definitely dwindling as the nights go on and she is subjected to fantasy after fantasy of what she wants him to do with her. To her. The preposition isn’t important anymore. She wants it all. “But I’d do anything for you, Luka. I— I may not have done much— any— at all before, but I want to. I trust you not to do anything damaging, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No— of course not. I wouldn’t dream of putting you through pain.”

Something cold whooshes in her stomach. “N-no?”

“I’m not a brute, you know— you deserve something gentle— I want to be gentle with you— I’m still worried you’re afraid of me. Besides, I don’t like the idea of hurting you in general, it wouldn’t feel right.”

“No? Not… even a little tiny smidge? Maybe?” She squeaks out that last part, feeling self conscious about the way he pauses. There’s a question forming, she can tell by the way his brows pinch together— she bites her lip to stop herself from making a noise.

His gaze drops to her lips, and instead of responding to what she’s proposed, he whispers out: “Don’t hurt yourself, Mousey.”

He kisses her. Hard— almost painful, ironically— with the way he clicks their teeth together as she whines. He slides his hand to keep it at the back of her neck, kissing her in the same way they had in the closet. There’s a pull at her wrist, and an arm snaking underneath her shoulder, and she finds herself being deposited onto his lap.

Oh, she’s missed this.

Sweet gooseberries. She can already feel how stiff he’s starting to get in these criminally low sweatpants of his— and she hasn’t even done anything besides kiss him a bit and just tell him how she really feels. The man underneath her is honest, and never would be able to lie to her about his feelings— he really is enjoying this.

She wants him to enjoy everything.

Everything.

“What kind of hurt are you into, Mousinette?” He hums. His voice feels like pure ecstasy in her veins as he rumbles out his words, and she nearly loses feeling in the very same legs that prop her up when gives her a swat on her ass, causing her to gasp. The impact is lessened by the properties of her hexleather— but it’s enough to make her face flush and lashes flutter. “Oh. Oh. So you mean that kind?”

“Luka—”

“You’ve never done anything and yet you already know that you like getting spanked. Incredible, little mouse— do you practice on yourself with the things you like?”

She nods. “I’ve only been able to— to try out things on myself, but, yes— I know a lot about what I like— and— and don’t, by trial and— error—”

“Fuck that’s hot. Just how far do your fantasies go, I wonder?” He laughs. “Tell me, please. I want to know all of it— you know, I never got to hear what you think about when you’re fingering yourself— even though you promised.”

“I did. You’re right— I really did. But maybe later, we have other things to do—” She tries kissing him again, but he tilts his head enough so that she ends up kissing the corner of his mouth, and she whines. “Luka, please— I want—”

“I can’t do what you want if you don’t tell me what it is,” He mouths against her jaw. “Please tell me. What was the last idea you fingered yourself to?”

“I thought about how I want you to pin me down—” Her breath hitches when he follows the curve of her spine with his fingers. “I thought about how I want— I need— you to bend me over— and— and take off my clothes— I can be totally naked for you and you can wear every single piece of clothing on you, I promise it’s okay— let me be yours, Luka—”

He hisses. “Shit, Mousey. Where do you want me to fuck you?”

“On your bed— your kitchen table—” She scrambles to come up with answers as he continues to move his fingers up and down her back, petting her so gently it almost feels like a tease. “Outside, too, o-on the— on the deck—”

“Oh, you liked the outside idea, didn’t you?”

“Yes— yes—”

“What do you want me to do to you?” At her whining and begging, he smiles at her with such gentility she feels like she’s melting. “Please. Please tell me.”

She whooshes air out of her lungs. “I want you to finger me like you said you would— finger me until I come three times.”

“Four, Mousey.” He amends. “I won’t be satisfied until you’re gushing all over my fingers. I’ll make a fucking mess out of you.”

“F-four.” She parrots, feeling her eyesight go hazy at the idea. She hears her tail hit something— probably the side of his bed— but she can’t focus enough to pay attention to it. “Eat— eat me out, too. Please. Uhm. M-maybe finger me and— and maybe suck my— my clit at the same time.”

She has to pause so that he can kiss her, coaxing her tongue into his mouth. He sucks on her tongue like he’s trying to prove something to her— she’s not sure what— but regardless of whatever it is, it’s enough for her to whine and pant, gripping his wet strands of hair between her fingers to stop herself from rubbing herself all over his chest and abs.

“You’d do this all outside on the deck of the Liberty?” He hums when he breaks away, licking the bridge of saliva that formed between their mouths.

“More than just that, but, yes—”

He gives a noise of approval that makes her wetter. “What do you think Paris would say if they ever caught a glance of Viperion breeding Multimouse on rooftops across the city, or finding out that you beg for it and don’t stop begging until you’re satisfied? Do you think they would be upset with you because you weren’t behaving like the proper princess everyone thinks you are?”

She wants it. She wants it so badly. The idea is so tantalizing that she can feel that low buzz of an incoming dry-orgasm, never even touched— never even fingered. Oh, how this man is everything she’s ever wanted. Just being able to sit in his lap is enough to get her to want to stain her suit.

“I don’t care,” She breathes, and she really does shift, then, her knees not being able to handle holding her up in any way any longer. She sits on his thighs, her legs spread wide so that they can go over his— everything about him is massive and so much bigger than her. “Anywhere— anywhere you decide on taking me, Luka— I want to do it anywhere you want to, I don’t care if people find out that I’m not their sweetheart— that I’m not their sweet little angel saving the city—”

“Oh, you’re all of that for sure— you just happen to be one horny little mouse, too.” He laughs against her mouth when she moans and grinds her sex against one of his thighs like she knows how to do. Sparks of color bleed against the back of her lids as she chases the orgasm that continues to build and build and build.

He shifts his leg, giving her a better angle. There’s a gasp trying to spill out of her mouth— heat curling between her legs as she continues to rub herself almost painfully hard on the thick muscle that makes up his thigh— trying not to exhaust herself as she rubs and rubs and rubs and— “Luka? Please?”

“Are you asking me permission to come?” He says it like he doesn’t believe her, looking at her with almost an awed look to his face.

“Please,” She repeats, nodding her head hard enough for it to hurt.

“Alright,” He whispers. “You can do it. Come for me without me even touching you— go on.”

She does.

He tightens his grip on her waist and the curve of her spine as she places her forehead down on his shoulder, riding wave after wave of heat that washes over her. Her legs feel like liquid— the space between her thighs even more so. She’s completely and totally doused in a fever that almost makes it claustrophobic to stay in her suit.

“That’s it,” He kisses her ear— her temple— whatever’s closest to him on the side of her face. “Good job, Mousinette. Very good job. You did so well—”

“Luka—” She sighs, trying not to accidentally crush the charms on his necklaces with her fist as she grips them with a hand, trying to get her strength back. “Luka, I want more.”

There’s a bit of an edge to his voice, “Oh, do you? Are you unsatisfied?”

“No— not unsatisfied— I want more. I just want you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” He laughs. His voice feels like satin on her sensitive skin. “Not that watching you wasn’t good— I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit in this chair ever again without thinking of you fucking my leg. That was fucking hot, Mousey.”

“Sorry—” She doesn’t really mean it, feeling like she’s on the edge of her seat, even as her body continues to slow down and fill her with good emotions, making her feel as viscous as honey as she curls in his lap. “I’m so sorry— I just— I need— more— Luka— one isn’t enough— I need you—”

“Detransform for me so we can do exactly that, Mousey.” His eyes look dark, pupils blown wide open as he smiles. “Let me fuck you.”

She’s never nodded harder in her life. She calls off her transformation, the necklace that rests on her chest glowing before unleashing her kwami. Mullo blinks wide at the sight of the two of them in an obviously precarious position— the little mouse kwami grinning wide as the suit is done unstitching from Marinette’s body, leaving her in her clothes she wore before leaving her house, her hair falling against her ears and down her back. “You confessed? You confessed! You actually did it!”

“Lolo—” She mumbles into Luka’s collarbone, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. “Come on. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Oh— but— I’m so happy, Princess! I can’t believe you did it! You spent so long freaking out in your room I thought I was going to have to force a transformation on you!”

“Lolo!”

“Hi, Mullo. Sass is upstairs, I think, probably near the sails.” Luka grins, cutting Marinette off with a hand to her mouth before she can continue responding. She squeaks behind his hand— how the rings on his hands feel cold against her skin. “No doubt trying to cover his ears from the noise.”

“A sensitive one to sound, isn’t he?” Mullo winks, giggling behind her paws. “Well, well, you know what to call out if you need us! Try not to be too loud for Sass’s sake, okay?”

Luka makes her lean back from his lap when Mullo disappears through the ceiling. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She whispers back, muffled by the hand that covers her giggles.

“So. You really are the girl of my dreams and fantasies, huh?” There’s a tilt to his head as he says it, looking her over appreciatively. “Give me a second to look at you— I can’t believe I missed all the obvious signs of you being the girl I love.”

Something flatlines in her head. “D-dreams?”

“And fantasies,” He adds, shifting her in his lap with a laugh. “Come on, little mouse. You already know that. You can definitely feel it, too. I’m not lying when I said all I can think about is fucking you.”

“I— I know. I did just spend— I totally just grinded on you until I came, but I mean— it’s— it’s a little harder to believe— when I’m not—” She’s blushing, finally able to feel just how exactly stiff he is in his pants— she cuts herself off with a needy whine. “Oh, gooseberries, I’m sorry, Luka— you know I stutter a lot when I’m very shy.”

He kisses his palm over where her mouth is. “It’s okay. You’re doing okay— great, actually. There’s nothing to be shy or afraid of, Mousinette, even if you’re willingly walking into a snake’s den while being this cute.”

She giggles.

“You really do need to get out of your boat more often, Luka,” She pouts behind his hand. “You’re going to spend so much time on this boat that you’re going to end up landsick if you ever get off of it.”

His eyes drop to her shirt, a teasing look on his face. “Well, if that was your goal for tonight, I’m sorry— I have other plans involving you. You smell so good— are you wearing the perfume that I said I liked on you?”

“I might be.” An impulse buy for sure at the makeup store, but worth every single cent with the way he looks at her now. Ever since she’d worn it that first time and Luka had complimented it in passing when hauling a subwoofer the size of Rose’s full height outside to the deck of the Liberty, she’d known that she’d wear it every day of her life if it meant to get him to look at her for even a smidge longer. “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did. You always smell expensive when you have it on— you went stiff as a board the first time I complimented you. I thought I broke you, and I didn’t get why Jules just kept laughing when you ran off to go help Kagami with the banner— I understand why now.” He laughs. “So, what are you wearing, then? If you went through the hassle of smelling good…”

It’s a shame he can’t see the smile she gives him, a shy and teasing quirk of her lips. “Just my pajamas.”

“Uh huh. I don’t believe you, you’ve got something up your sleeve, I know that look in your eye. Show me what you’re wearing,” He doesn’t pull his hand away from her mouth, and quirks his lips to produce yet another boyish smile when she kisses his palm. “It doesn’t look like you’re wearing anything under that shirt, little mouse.”

“I have something under it,” She mumbles under his palm, but it doesn’t come across well enough.

He takes in the wide shoulders of her shirt— how she’s absolutely swimming in the sleeves that end up at her elbows. She can tell the moment he recognizes the band shirt’s logo on her shirt— a fun and edgy screen-printed design with neon blues and neon pinks with the word kitty section below a logo— because his breath stops.

“Oh, shit—” He uses his free hand to hold her at the rib cage, pressing his thumb inwards, presumably trying to find the band of her bra that she’s potentially wearing— he almost seems to relax when his fingertips finds the wire. “Marinette, I like this.”

She preens under his words, sitting in his lap at a better angle to let him continue petting her heavily under her bust, thumbing at the wire under her breasts. “Oh. Do you really?”

“Fuck— I can’t believe this— this is such a turn-on. As if I needed to get any harder. Whose shirt is this?”

“I don’t know,” She tries to stay still in his lap to no avail when he moves his palm so that he can pet at her lips with a thumb. She melts in his touch, how each touch feels like heaven and soft. “It was one of the leftovers of the first batch we made, I’m pretty sure. I’ve kept it for years.”

“Really?”

“I like sleeping with it,” She tilts her head to the side, letting her hair fall behind her shoulder. The shirt is soft— comfortable— it’s gotten a very lived-in feel to the fabric after the long years of gentle care. She hand washes it to make sure that none of the colors chip away. “Makes me feel comfortable, thinking I’m with you. I— uhm— I—”

“Don’t hesitate, little mouse,” He smiles easy. “You’ve been doing so well already.”

“E-ever since I found it, I’ve been pretending it’s yours,” She tries not to steam red at her confession. She’s grinded on him in a closet, grinded on his leg mere minutes ago, begged for him to fuck her— and yet she still feels embarassed to admit this, too?

Well, to be fair, it is his band’s shirt. After all, what kind of a— best friend? Lover? Budding-relationship partner?— is she, if she doesn’t support his band with all their friends? Even if she didn’t have any romantic or sexual feelings for the man who continues to blink wide at the sight of her in the shirt, she’d still keep the merchandise for sentimental values. It’s one of the few originals— a homemade shirt that they had bought in a batch so that they could at least have merch to sell.

Every time they leave for a tour, now that they’re much better in terms of fame, she keeps it close to her. She nuzzles into the fabric, dreaming that it’s actually him in her arms and him in her cunt as she masturbates to the thought of him, wishing she was in his hotel room across the hall instead of hers.

His face turns pink. “Have you?”

She blinks at the way he seems to turn pinker and pinker the more he continues to look at her. Is that— is he blushing from the idea of her wearing his clothes? “Uhm— I— I mean I obviously don’t have any of your shirts for real, but, it’s nice to pretend—”

“You now have free reign of my closet whenever and wherever.” He almost twitches underneath her. “Please wear my actual shirts anytime you want, little mouse, holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. I’ll start begging if you need convincing— god.”

“Y-you don’t need to do that.” She laughs.

His smile curls dark. “You’re right. Your begging is much prettier than mine.”

She nearly jumps when his hand at the top of her shirt smoothes down her spine, teasing the hem of the shirt, making her shiver from how gentle he is. “I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear.”

“What’s underneath?” He asks, his eyes glittering with a tease that she can read he’ll come back to her request later. “Do you want to show me?”

She nods, giving his thumb a kiss. “Maybe just a peek. I h-have something I want to do, too— i-if you’re interested?”

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | You Are Here! | Chapter Three Link

[alyasgf]

Adrien’s Admirer- Adrinette April Day 6 -Anime!

Summary- Adrien Agreste has a secret admirer and its none other than Marinette Dupain Cheng.

Word Count

1650

Excerpt

Realizing how insane it’d look to carry all of these presents to Adrien at once and that all of them being from her might be weird, an idea struck.

“What if I hid them around for him to find from a secret admirer!” Marinette proposed excitedly. “It’d be perfect! I’d be able to see his adorable reactions without feeling embarrassed!”

AO3

The pedestal Marinette had put Adrien on in her younger years had been far too high. It seemed the more time she spent with him the dorkier and more human he became. First it had been the puns, then his concerningly large ladybug merchandise collection that he was extremely fond of, and now he’s a huge anime fan.

Marinette hadn’t meant to find his anime dvd collection. He had asked her to choose a movie while he grabbed snacks since they finished studying early enough that Nathalie had yet to come to kick her out. She had already gone through a few shelves when she found one that seemed to be hidden in a corner. As she looked closer she noticed the entire shelf was filled with volumes of anime, and the shelf beside it manga.

She couldn’t imagine why it was hidden. Was he ashamed? Adrien had been sheltered most his life and the way he acted, well Marinette was surprised she hadn’t realized sooner. Half his lines felt as though they were picked straight from an anime.

As she heard him approach the door she chose a random horror movie and went to sit down. This gave her a perfect idea.

As Adrien went to a closet collected blankets to sit on, Marinette began brainstorming for the perfect birthday present to incorporate her latest discovery.

————————————————————

By the time September 3 rolled around Marinette was slightly worried she’d gone too far this time. At first, she decided to just design a sweater with a few of the animes she remembered seeing in his collection. But she saw the cutest My Hero Academia beanie while at the shops and just had to remake it. Then came socks, pjs, and a ladybug mug she she happened to pass by.

But any friend would go out of their way to cater to a friends interests right?

“Absolutely not, Marinette.”

“Well thanks Alya.” Marinette huffed while packaging all of the gifts in her room the night before.

“Girl, I think its about time you told him! Its been years and not just anyone spends upwards of 40 hours working on gifts for a ‘friends’ niche interest.” Alya cooed at her from atop of her bed.

“Are you crazy? I just gained enough confidence to be his friend, confessing my love to him is a whole other level I can’t even begin to be ready for!” Realizing how insane it’d look to carry all of these presents to Adrien at once and that all of them being from her might be weird, an idea struck.

“What if I hid them around for him to find from a secret admirer!” Marinette proposed excitedly. “It’d be perfect! I’d be able to see his adorable reactions without feeling embarrassed!”

Alya sighed. “I guess it’s better than you panicking and never giving them to him.” She replied dejectedly.

“Thats the spirit.” Marinette said, taping the last perfectly wrapped gift and joining her friend on the bed. “Now since you’re here you’re obligated to help me plan this.”

“I’m not the one with his schedule memorized.” Alya complained, groaning. “What help am I?”

“Moral support!”

———————————————————

Adrien woke up the next morning to his usual. A lonely breakfast and a report of his schedule from Nathalie. He almost could have been fooled into thinking it was any other day.

“Your father sends his wishes Adrien.” Nathalie said as she walked out of the room.

One thing he could be excited by was school. There there’d hugs and birthday wishes and maybe even a sweet snack from a certain blue eyed girl.

————————

As expected, as he steeped out of the sleek black car (after receiving a small Ladybug action figure from the gorilla) he was practically toppled by Nino.

“Happy birthday bro!” He exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

Adrien smiled fondly at the boy. “Thanks Nino.” He said with a chuckle.

“Hopefully your old man will let me come over after school and I can give you your present then?.” Nino questioned hopeful.

“Sorry, I have fencing after school.” Adrien sighed.

“Can’t you just skip? It is your birthday after all.” Nino whined.

“You know how he is. The world could be ending but as long as I’m on time for my appointments he won’t care.” Adrien replied, walking along with Nino towards the front of the school.

As he approached he saw Alya and Marinette camping out by the entrance.

Once they were in hearing distance Adrien said, “Good news is he allowed me to spend lunch outside the house! I figured we could all spend it at the park.”

Marinette squealed excitedly as she ran to hug him, nearly squishing the pastry box she held in the process.

“What she means by that is happy birthday.” Alya laughed while she waited her turn to hug him.

“Happy birthday Adrien!” Marinette said with a slight blush as she handed him the box.

Inside was what looked to be 5 handmade passion fruit macarons, same as she had given him for the last 2 years. It still managed to warm his heart.

“Thanks guys.” He said hugging Alya and mouthing a thank you to Marinette. “If you have anything for me wait until lunch so it can almost be a real party?”

Everyone nodded in response. “Just us?” Nino asked.

“Preferably.” Adrien said sheepishly.

They all walked together to the lockers, chatting comfortably. Marinette seems a little anxious, for what reason Adrien couldn’t say.

He opened his locker and a small black box tumbled out. He caught it and looked at Nino questioningly.

“Wasn’t me.” He said shrugging. “Looks like a note fell out though.” He picked it up from the floor and handed it to Adrien.

“Happy birthday! Thank you for being a ray of sunshine for everyone.” Adrien read aloud smiling fondly. “It’s not signed?”

“Someone as a secret admirer.” Nino teased. “Now hurry up and open it I’m intrigued!”

“Okay okay.” Adrien said, his smile growing as he saw the contents. Inside was a sweater decorated with a Parasyte theme.

“I didn’t know you liked anime.” Nino said curiously.

“Eh never came up.” Adrien replied. He pulled the jacket over his head and looked down at it. Looking at it now he made a discovery. The jacket looked custom, and he only knew one person capable of such a feat.

“Nino I think Marinette made this!” Adrien exclaimed in a hushed tone. “Why wouldn’t she sign?”

“Maybe she wanted it to be anonymous?” Nino closed his locker and started heading to class.

“Should I tell her I know?” Adrien asked, following close behind.

“Nah she clearly wanted it to be secret, just keep it that way.”

—————-

Marinette was still giddy from that morning. The way Adriens eyes lit up when she handed him the pastry box was only matched by the smile that spread across his face when he pulled the present from his locker.

She decided to give the ladybug mug to him in person, figuring giving him an anime present may give away the identity of his secret admirer.

As she sat behind him in class she couldn’t help but sigh at how nicely the sweater fit him. She could definitely get used to seeing him in her designs.

Suddenly she felt a strong elbow in her side.

“Marinette!” Alya whispered aggressively. “Mademoiselle Bustier has called your name twice already!”

“Here!” Marinette blurted out immediately.

“Yes I’m aware you’re here Marinette. I asked if you could read the next section.”

She heard a small chuckle from Adrien and sheepishly decided to focus on how the jacket fit him another time.

—————————

Marinette had ran into a slight problem after lunch. She had already given Adrien his mug (he squealed in delight when he received it), left the beanie in his locker after lunch (he immediately shoved it on and hadn’t taken it off yet) and planned to hide the socks in his fencing bag after school, but she still had yet to give him the phs.

She ran over his schedule about a thousand times throughout the day and could think of no other opportunity that wouldn’t give away her identity as his secret admirer.

“Isn’t there any way you could leave it at his house?” Alya suggested.

“No his dad’s assistant might say something. I just don’t wanna risk it!” Marinette whined.

Then an idea struck.

“Actually Alya I just remembered something in his schedule that leaves a perfect time.” She fibbed.

——————

Adrien was on cloud nine. All of Marinette’s gifts were perfect. You could tell she put thought into them. She even left little notes with each one.

The beanie came with a note that said ‘Thank you for being the such an amazing friend’ and the socks he received during fencing came with a note that read ‘your smile brightens up my world.’ What a nice thing to say to a friend.

As he went up to his room after an extremely exciting day he opened his door to see a flash of red leave through his open window. He could recognize the sound of that string anywhere.

Ladybug had just been in his room!

He looked around to see if anything was different. On his bed he saw a perfectly wrapped gift. It was wrapped in lavender paper with a pink ribbon.

On top was a note. ‘My heart is forever yours’

Adrien’s heart stopped.

That’s Marinette’s handwriting. Marinette’s decorative paper. Marinette’s methodically wrapped gift.

Still in shock he opened it and it confirmed his suspicions. Inside were Death Note pjs.

Marinette had been anonymously giving him anime gifts all day.

Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug was his secret admirer.

————————————

As they were leaping across building that evening Chat could tell Ladybug was in a good mood.

“Thanks for the gifts today, Marinette.” The blonde hero mentioned casually.

Ladybug effectively face planted into the ground.

Notes

A little late to the party but here nonetheless.

Also I didnt reread this before posting so if you see any mistakes,,, no you didnt :)

@adrinetteapril

[padfootagain]

Why Are You Sad, September?

Here we go for the first request for my 4.7k followers event! Thank you so much for your request Anu!! I hope you like it!

This was written with the prompts:

1.“KISSES!”

2. “You are too far away.”

“I am literally on the couch with you…”

“But are you in my arms? No. See? Too far away.”

The prompts are written in italic, so you can check that I've done my job well ;)

Warning! You are not prepared for the amount of absolute fluff in this piece. Read at your own risk!

Word Count : 2037

It's rather cold outside. September seems to be particularly sad this year, and you wonder why. It's raining this afternoon, has been so for four days in a row now. The sky is grey and spooky-looking above London, a sea of clouds hiding the blue firmament. The rain makes strange little patterns on the windowpanes, and its sound makes almost the beat of a melody.

It's the weekend though. Sunday. It's quiet in London, lazy and too cold for people to be brave enough to fight the rain and take a walk. You don't blame them, after all, you're doing exactly the same.

In the corner of the room, your owl cleans its long brown feather, occasionally letting out one of her cute little sounds.

There is a record playing, an old Muggle album that you don't remember the name of, but you like the tunes. On the low table before you, two hot cups of coffee are smoking, little puffs disappearing as soon as they are created above them.

You're reading the Daily Prophet, hidden under your warmest blanket, almost lying on your sofa. On the opposite side of the furniture, Sirius is doing the same as you, only he's reading a muggle magazine about motorcycles instead.

You take a moment to look at him. His hair has grown a little over the past couple of months, now covering a part of his shoulder blades. There are traces of white in the dark stubble that covers his cheeks, and his reading glasses are a little lopsided on his nose. You like that look on him. The aging part. The watching-you-grow-old part of loving each other. You pull your mind away from memories of a time where it wasn't so sure that you could see grey hair creep up on his temples. It was a long time ago. Death Eaters were long gone.

Instead of dwelling on such memories, you resume your study of his features. His grey eyes you have always adored match the colour of the sky outside as they travel across the pages. The bruises that colour his cheekbone and his neck haven't disappeared yet. His knuckles are still covered with bandages, but there's no blood anymore.

Sometimes you hate the fact that he became an Auror. Sometimes you wish he and James had settled for some work in an office, and you know that Lily feels the same. But then, you know him enough to be aware that it was an obvious choice for him. He loves it. And that's all the arguing you need to drown the idea. Still, you wish you could make his scratches and bruises disappear simply with a kiss. He would never be hurt then.

"Admiring the view, are we?" His voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you playfully throw a cushion at his face to make his smirk disappear.

"I mean... I don't blame you," he goes on with a toothy grin, easily catching the cushion before it would hit him. "With a husband as hot as I am..."

"I was trying to evaluate how much your hair had gone whiter these past couple of months."

"You're an arse."

You laugh at him while he gives you one of his adorable pouts.

"I'm joking. I was admiring my very hot husband indeed. Besides, I like your grey hair."

"Really? You like it?"

You nod, humming appreciatively. You disregard the newspapers completely and put them down on the ground.

"I do. Reminds me that we've made it."

He gives you a tender smile, putting his magazine away as well.

"We did make it," he nods, before his eyes would drift toward the moving pictures that rested above the mantlepiece, settling on his favourite picture of you and your children. "And we've done pretty great since, don't you think?"

"Yeah... I think we did."

"I just wish they wrote to us more often."

"They're at Hogwarts! Give them a break, they're having fun. The same way we did."

Sirius gave you a pointed look.

"Well... I hope they don't have as much fun as we both did when they reach 7th year. There was too much sex involved and I don't have the strength to deal with all that for now."

You laughed at him.

"They're not there yet. Besides, Harry did survive Hogwarts!"

"Yeah... well... his 7th year was apparently quite close to what his parents were doing back then too so... bad example."

"He and Ginny are cute together though."

"Potters and their love for redheads..." Sirius sighs, leaning to grab his coffee and put down his glasses on the table instead.

He takes a sip, but puts down his cup again quickly. He turns to you, a large grin back on his features as he opens his arms, an obvious plea for you to cuddle him for the rest of the day.

You know the drill. How many days have been spent like this? Trapped in Sirius's arms when you had a thousand things to do?

Many. The thought makes you smile.

"You're too far away," he complains, giving you his adorable puppy eyes and you silently curse his Animagus form for enhancing that trait of his. He didn't need that to be irresistible.

"I am literally on the couch with you…"

"But are you in my arms? No. See? Too far away."

You can only laugh at how silly he is sometimes, but crawl across the sofa nonetheless, settling against his chest and shoulder. And you are forced to admit that it's much better than to be in the corner of the couch, no matter how comfortable your furniture is.

From Sirius's corner, you can peer in your kitchen, and even from there you can see some of the drawings your children have made when they were little that now decorate the doors of the closets and your furniture. You smile at the sight, nuzzling against the crook of Sirius's neck.

Your fingers brush against his jaw and you can feel the thin cut that is slowly healing there.

"When are you supposed to go back to work?"

"Tired of having me around already?"

"I'm worried."

He heaves a sigh.

"I'm fine."

"I know."

"So... no need to worry!"

"You attract troubles better than jam can attract wasps in summer, Sirius. I ought to be worried all the time about you."

"I'm careful out there, you know?" He whispered, pressing his lips to your hair. "I'm not as reckless as I was back in the days of the Order. Things have changed since then. I have people to come home to now."

You smile, his fingers writing little I love yous on your forearm.

"I know. Still... I can't help it."

He hums, low sound born in the depth of his chest, and you feel it vibrate through your frame from under you.

Sometimes he takes risks, but that's just who he is. And you love him despite that.

You reach for his hand and trace along his wedding band with your thumb. You have made such a good life for yourself with him...

You reckon that he's right. For now, at least, he's here, in your arms, safe. Your children are studying safely in Hogwarts. And really, you don't understand why September is so sad these days, because you're as happy as you can be.

"You know what could make me feel better?" You ask, looking up at him with this adorable smile of yours that he adores.

"What?"

"KISSES!" You exclaim, making him laugh.

He doesn't protest though, instead, he gladly complies. How could he not, after all?

After a few kisses, he tries to break away, eyeing the coffees on the table.

"Coffee's growing cold," he mumbles against your lips, but you pull him in for another kiss, and there is no way he can keep his eyes open when you kiss him like that.

"Don't care," you're the one mumbling against his lips this time. "You're warm, though."

He chuckles, his forehead resting against yours while he trails his fingertips across your cheekbone.

"You're just using me cause you're cold, huh?" he asks, a playful and rather mischievous look in his eyes.

"Hey! You're the one who begged for my cuddles not two minutes ago!" you reply, faking outrage when you could barely keep a straight face.

"It's true. You've discovered my evil plan…"

You dramatically gasped.

"You are the one using me cause you're cold! And I thought you just loved to be held by me…"

Sirius lets out one of his loud laughs, the ones that sound a little like he barks more than laughs.

"I do, my love. I do love to be held by you."

He dives for another kiss, but you playfully escape, his lips landing on your chin instead.

"No! You're not nice, so no kisses."

"No kisses?"

He gently bit down on your chin, making you shriek in surprise and try to escape his embrace, but you're trapped in his arms, and there is no way for you to move away now. Besides, you don't really want to.

"Sirius… I will hex you."

"I know you're not… Sirius."

"Oh… by Merlin's grey beard, I can't believe that after all this time you still use this stupid pun," you groan.

"It's hilarious! I am hilarious!"

"You wish. Two decades, Sirius! For two decades I've heard that joke!"

"And yet, you love it."

"I don't love it."

"You do!"

"I don't."

"You love me, so it means you love my stupid jokes."

"You're insufferable."

"Well, maybe. But you signed up for it the day you kissed me in the dungeons while we were hiding from Minerva, so don't complain now."

"If I had known that day what kind of trouble that kiss would get me into, I might have reconsidered and let Minerva find me."

"Well, strange… cause you signed up for it again when you kissed me in Hogsmeade after our first date. And all the nights we spent in the room of requirement. And then when we moved in together. And when you said yes and married me. And the days you carried our babies… And right now, when you came to cuddle me and asked for kisses."

He has such a cheeky grin on his face and you want to make the cocky expression disappear. But you can't argue.

You have chosen him indeed. Every single day since that chase against McGonagall across the dungeons in your sixth year at Hogwarts. Every single day ever since, you have chosen to spend your life with him, and have never wished for anyone to be by your side in his stead.

And Agrippa, are you lucky that he kept on choosing you over and over again as well.

"So… are you sure you want to reconsider that choice you made so long ago?" he teases, knowing perfectly well the answer.

And you know how to fight back against this smudge look on his face. You have to kill him with honesty and love.

"No, I don't want to reconsider. I chose the love of my life that day, and I always will, no matter what."

His lopsided smirk vanishes in the blink of an eye, and instead, you can feel his heart beating faster in his chest. You can't feel though that Sirius suspects the organ might explode for holding so much love. And it's all for you. For you and your children, and the family you have built together.

"And I will always choose you too, you know?" he answers. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'll always love you."

Who would have thought he would be lucky enough to have you in his arms like this twenty years later? His teenager self who tried to play it cool while he was desperately falling for you wouldn't have, for sure.

You snuggle into his chest again, and while you cuddle, abandoning your coffees to grow cold, his eyes drift to the dark sky above and the angry rain hitting the windows.

Why is September so sad? How could it, when in your home, the world seemed so bright?

 ******************************************************************************

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[kurokoros]

some like it hot (1/4) | todoroki x reader x bakugou

Rated: T (bakugou’s dirty mouth, sexual humor)

Words: 9.3K

Pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader x katsuki bakugou

Summary: A Charity Fundraiser leads to you going home with not one, but two of the most popular Pro Heroes of your generation. They say some like it hot, and you certainly aren’t complaining.

AKA: a totally not self-indulgent threesome fic

AN: Well, this isn’t what I was expecting to write, but here we are! I was just planning to write a pwp threesome fic but now there are feelings involved, and this is my life now. Also available on AO3. Ask to be added to the tag-list. Chapters will be weekly until completion! Thanks in advance for reading! Note, this does start with a flash forward.  A note: the reader does have a name used only in dialogue because I hate using “Y/N” in fics. Both names are puns. “Yuna” = Y/N, and the kanji in “Hikai” means “fire time”.

You can honestly say this wasn’t what you were expecting to happen tonight.

Chilled fingers follow the curve of your spine, starting at the base of your neck and trailing downward achingly slow. The hitch in your breathing is loud, and Shouto’s lips curve into a barely there smile against the back of your head. Deftly, he slips a finger between your shoulder and the pretty dress you’re wearing, teasing the soft skin there before you let him brush the fabric aside.

The straps of your dress slide down your arms teasingly, and a pair of narrowed, ruby red eyes immediately drag down your body, appraising you as more of your soft skin is revealed. Katsuki licks his lips as the silky fabric pools around your feet, expression nothing short of greedy as he watches the two of you, though he doesn’t move. Not yet. You shiver under his gaze and the icy kiss that Shouto presses against the side of your neck. Hands drag down your sides to grasp your hips, the difference in temperature between the two making you gasp and squirm, but Shouto holds you firmly against his chest.

The boys lock eyes over your shoulder. A silent agreement.

“All right, angel.” Katsuki’s voice is deeper than usual, and startlingly calm. “Be a good girl and moan for me an’ Icy Hot.”

Shouto huffs at the old insult, but then his teeth drag down the column of your throat and you do exactly as Katsuki demands, much to their amusement.

Chuckling to himself, Katsuki’s eyes rake over you again, taking in the lacy lingerie previously hidden beneath your dress, and the strappy high-heels that do little to keep you from being dwarfed by their heights. You swear his fingers spark as he grasps the front of his dress shirt, popping the buttons one by one. Patiently, Shouto’s left hand draws small circles against your hip, his right skimming the smooth skin of your stomach, trailing higher and higher until he’s grasping your chin between cold and calloused fingers.

They look at you like they want to devour you.

And you plan on letting them.

One Week Earlier

“Midoriya!” you snap, throwing open the door to the Pro Hero's office and letting it slam against the wall with a loud crack. Izuku’s head snaps up in surprise, big, green eyes locking with yours, and the intern sitting across from him releases a rather undignified squeak at your sudden intrusion. 

Immediately, a grin spreads across Izuku’s face. “Oh, hey, Hikai—”

Your narrowed eyes and the manila folder pointed in his direction are a warning, and he shuts his mouth quickly.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Midoriya. I’ve told you at least a dozen times now to give me the list of agencies you want contacted for the charity gala next week. We need it finalized by the end of the day, or I swear...” You leave the threat hanging as you place your free hand on your hip, but you get the point across easily enough.

Realization dawns on Izuku’s face. His eyes widen further if possible, his mouth dropping open into a silent “oh” as his neck begins to flush. Across from him, Izuku’s intern Seiji Nakamura shifts awkwardly and glances between the two of you, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else as you chastise Deku, one of the top rising heroes of the new generation.

And chastise you will. Deku may be the Pro Hero, but you’re the one that runs this shit show.

“But, I thought…” Izuku trails off suddenly and rubs the back of his head, a sheepish look on his face. 

You quirk a brow. “Thought what?” Your heel stops tapping against the floor impatiently when he sends you the best puppy dog look he can manage at twenty-three, which shouldn’t be nearly as effective as it is considering you’re both adults now. “Midoriya, just how many agencies were you planning on inviting this time?”

“... All of them?”

In response, your eye twitches. You highly consider smacking yourself with the folders still clutched in your right hand, but settle for pursing your lips at the pleading look he’s still sending you, hope shining in those big, green eyes. Even Seiji looks baffled by Izuku’s reply, blue eyes half-hidden behind a shaggy mess of dark, curly hair.

Honestly, you can’t say you’re all that surprised by the overzealous answer. After working with Izuku for three years and counting, it’s certainly something you’ve come to expect, though you can’t help but wish he would tone things down just a little. But Izuku has always had the most uncanny way of connecting with people and inspiring them, you included, and already, you find yourself thinking up ways to make this work in less than a week.

Ever since he opened his own agency three years ago, Izuku has always been adamant about including everyone in these charity events, despite any tensions that may exist between certain Pro Heroes. Somehow, he manages to curb any animosity with his sweet nature, flitting around between different groups of people and putting smiles on everyone’s faces. You’d think that was his quirk if you hadn’t seen him in action before.

Shaking your head, you level him with a tired look. You’ll have to call in a few favors. “You’re going to give me gray hairs someday, you know that?”

Izuku’s smile widens. “You’re the best, Hikai!”

“Don’t you forget it.”

You cross the short distance to his desk and set down the folders. His brows furrow and his head cocks to the side in confusion as he glances between you and the mysterious files. Casting a glance at Seiji, you decide to keep things vague. “These are the files you requested about the activity in Utapa. They’re ordered by urgency. Tsukauchi wants your answer by Friday at the latest.”

If Izuku is surprised, he manages not to show it. “Thanks, Hikai. Is there anything else?” 

“Your meeting with Ground Zero and Shouto starts in an hour. Would you like me to just let them in?” The as usual remains silent.

Seiji perks up at the mention of the other Pros, just as popular and respected as Deku himself. When his eyes widen, you’re reminded that the previous meeting between the three Heroes was cancelled due to the recent disaster that destroyed much of the eastern coast. The last two weeks since Seiji joined them had been busy for everyone between rescue operations and a small spike in criminal activity, but things have finally begun to return to normal.

Nodding, Izuku offers you a smile. “You know how Kacchan is,” he says simply, making you roll your eyes. 

Don’t you ever. Katsuki has been an absolute pain in your ass for years, always yelling and swearing and storming into Izuku’s office even though the polite thing would be to wait for permission. You’ve grown used to it, of course. It wasn’t easy coming to terms with the fact that you were friends with the huffy blond in high school on account of him being a reluctant extension of Izuku, but since then, you’ve grown to appreciate his friendship. He’s calmed down a lot over the years you’ve known him, and he begrudgingly weaseled his way into your heart after the two of you crushed the rest of his former classmates in beer pong.

At least Shouto is marginally more polite, if not closed-off and occasionally a little too brash, though he always means well. You’ve grown used to that, too.

In either case, you can’t say you mind the eye-candy.

“Though,” Izuku continues suddenly, an uncharacteristic flicker of mischief in his gaze, “I’m sure they’ll want to stop and talk to you first. It’s been a few weeks since they’ve been here. They probably miss you.”

You snort, momentarily forgetting about Seiji sitting beside you and blatantly ignoring Izuku’s comment, even as you feel yourself flush. “It hasn’t been that long,” you tell him, neglecting to mention that you recently went out for drinks with Katsuki and Kirishima and managed to snag a quick lunch with Shouto between the craziness of last week. Though, judging by the look in his eyes, Izuku must already know. 

With that, you straighten and clear your throat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make.”

Izuku’s amusement doesn’t fade as you stalk back out the door and close it behind you with a gentle click.

It’s nearly an hour later during a lapse between calls that you sigh and drop your head into your hands, silently lamenting your choice in career up to this moment. As much as you enjoy working with Izuku and other Pro Heroes, you could stand a few less calls with old men that think you don’t know how to do your job.

So far, you’ve barely made a dent in the amount of calls you have to make for this charity event. To have everything ready in less than a week will be a challenge, but you always have liked a little last-minute pressure. With the evacuations and rescues done, all that’s left is to provide financial support to those devastated by the recent tsunami, and that’s where you come in. You may not have a combat-oriented quirk fit for a Hero, but this is something you can do.

Leaning back in your chair, you stretch your arms above your head, relaxing for just a second before you have to make your next call. In the meantime, you glance at the report you’d been thumbing through earlier, a copy of Izuku’s statement from the last villain he fought. Just another thing you need to finish this afternoon.

You look over the file quickly, hardly hearing the tell-tale click of Izuku’s office door opening and closing. 

Absently, your eyes flick away from the report as you hear the scuff of sneakers against the tile, catching sight of the newest addition to Deku’s Agency.

Izuku’s intern, Seiji, hesitates as he passes your desk, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he fidgets with his costume gloves. Momentarily, you’re reminded of how adorable and awkward Izuku was when you first met during the start of your second year at UA, and an unwitting smile curls on your lips.

“Can I help you, Nakamura?” you ask, pausing midway through the report laid out across your desk.

The teenage boy startles at the sound of your voice, eyes wide as he rips his gaze away from the clock. You press your lips into a tight line to keep from snickering with immediate understanding.

There are thirty minutes left until Katsuki and Shouto are supposed to meet with Izuku.

“Ah! No, everything is fine, Ms. Hikai!” he hurries to tell you, waving his hands in front of him frantically. Big, blue eyes meet yours as his face flushes with embarrassment that’s practically a carbon-copy of the expression your boss makes when he’s flustered. If you didn’t know better, you might think the two were related, though, you suppose that’s why they get along as well as they do.

Izuku isn’t exactly selective about taking on interns from UA, but you’d be blind not to see how easily the two of them clicked after they first met. Seiji Nakamura is only a first year, not the top of his class by any means, but with the same drive and determination that you saw in Izuku nearly a decade ago. It’s only his third week interning under the Pro Hero Deku, but already he’s improved greatly, becoming a welcome addition to the Agency.

You won’t be surprised if Izuku decides to take him on as a sidekick after he graduates.

Seiji shuffles his feet and casts another wistful glance at the clock, and you decide to take pity on the poor boy. 

“Did Deku send you home for the day?” you ask, despite knowing the answer. You peer at him out of the corner of your eyes, pretending to go back to your reports. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Good. Then you can help me finish filing the last of these reports.” You reach for another file. “What?” you continue when he gapes at you. “You didn’t think hero work was just beating up criminals, did you?”

“No, Ma’am!” he’s quick to sputter out, flushing all the way to the tips of his ears. 

You grin. “Well, then you can help me with this for a few minutes.”

Seiji nods, eyes shining with familiar determination, and it isn’t long before he’s plopped onto a chair beside you, carefully filing a stack of reports sitting on the corner of your desk while you alternate between doing the same and making another series of quick phone calls.

It’s during another lapse in these calls that Seiji peeks at you over the top of the file he’s reading. “Ms. Hikai?” he asks, suddenly bashful again as he rubs the back of his head. “How long have you known Deku?”

Barely glancing up from your paperwork, you hum in thought. “Almost eight years now. We met as second years at UA.” Fondness tugs at you as you think about that time and everyone you’ve met as a result of a single random selection.

Seiji’s head tilts to one side curiously, his brows furrowing slightly. “But you weren’t in the hero department.”

“No, I was in the business department. Top of my class too,” you can’t help but tack on. His eyes widen at the new information. “At the start of our second year, the faculty wanted to create more unity within the student body, so students from each class were paired together for a group project. Midoriya and I just happened to be in the same group.” Your lips quirk upward as you reminisce, and you find yourself telling Seiji more than you meant to. “I already knew who he was, of course. Because of the previous Sport’s Festival and all of the trouble his class was constantly getting into. Though, I definitely wasn’t expecting to end up working at his Hero Agency eventually.”

You’d been working freelance half-way across the country when you got the call from Izuku about the agency he was opening and the offer of a job. You practically had to uproot your entire life at the time, but you would have been an idiot not to.

“Did you ever want to be a Pro Hero?”

Pausing, your eyes narrow as you think it over. “Doesn’t everyone?” you counter, only half-joking. “Honestly though? Not really. I’m happy with my job. I always knew I wanted to work with Heroes, not be one.” Glancing at the clock, you can’t help but sigh when you see the time. With a barely smothered groan, you grab your work phone off your desk and frown when you see the next name on your list.

Dialing the number, you start preparing for a major headache later. 

“Mr. Fujikaze!” you greet as soon as he answers the phone. “This is Yuna Hikai from Deku’s Agency. I was wondering if I could have a word with you?”

“Mr. Fujikaze, I would appreciate it if you didn’t shout at me,” you state calmly despite the irritation threatening to creep into your tone. “I understand that this is short notice, but if you would please listen—”

You’re cut off by a snide retort you don’t bother listening to. Beside you, Seiji blanches, having grown startlingly pale over the duration of your conversation. Almost immediately after giving your name, the conversation took a sour twist. You were expecting it, given your previous experiences with the surly man, but that doesn’t make it any easier to tolerate.

You catch the tail end of some quip about him thinking Deku would hire a “more competent secretary,” and it takes a startling amount of willpower not to hang up on him right there. He knows damn well that you aren’t just some secretary. “Mr. Fujikaze, once again, I understand your frustration, but it’s important that you inform Nightwalker of the upcoming event. As a former Pro Hero, the show of public support would be instrumental towards—”

Another round of spiteful remarks makes you sigh. You’re so engrossed in the man yelling at you over the phone that you don’t hear the ding of the elevator until a loud scoff draws your gaze towards it. Seiji’s head whips around as well, his eyes widening comically as he realizes who’s there.

“You got stupid Deku’s interns doin’ your job now, sweetcheeks?” a familiar, gruff voice teases you. Heat licks up your spine as your eyes lock with ruby ones, a cheeky smirk already spreading across Katsuki’s face. To his right, Shouto shakes his head, but makes no comment when he sees you on the phone.

Ignoring them for the moment, you hold up a single finger to silence Katsuki’s next smartass remark. He grumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch, clearly put out by your easy dismissal.

But like Izuku said, neither one makes a move to head directly into his office, waiting patiently—if you could ever call Katsuki that—for you to finish your phone call.

“Sir, I understand—if you would let me finish—” You purse your lips at the mocking voice that cuts you off again. “Yes, I’m aware that Nightwalker is—” You yank the phone away from your ear as Mr. Fujikaze raises his voice again, this time louder than before. Loud enough for the two Pro Heroes standing across the desk to hear him.

Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes narrow and you swear the temperature drops sharply as he clenches his jaw. He takes a small step forward and you shiver, but before he can say anything, the phone is being ripped out of your hand.

“Bakugou!” you snap, glaring up at him in exasperation.

“Oi, dickhead!” Katsuki barks into the phone, taking a step back before you can grab your phone again. Your gaze cuts to Shouto for help, but he pretends not to notice, doing absolutely nothing to stop his companion’s irritated tirade. “Don’t fuckin’ yell at her just because she’s better at her fuckin’ job than you! And you work for a Pro? Fuckin’ pathetic.” 

Fujikaze’s stuttered response is cut off with a click.

“Bastard,” Katsuki practically snarls, glaring down at the now silent phone like he’s thinking about exploding it into tiny pieces.

Utterly unimpressed, you roll your eyes and hold out your hand for your phone, fingers wiggling impatiently until Katsuki huffs and drops the device onto your waiting palm. “As eloquent and to the point as always, Bakugou. And how many times have I told you to stop with the pet-names while I’m working? This is a professional setting, you know.”

He snorts and crosses his arms. “Bastard had it comin’, sweetcheeks,” he says, blatantly ignoring you. Asshole.

“You realize I’ll just have to call him back and apologize for that, right?” you ask, one eyebrow quirking slightly. A hint of amusement curls at your lips despite everything, and a familiar, pleasant warmth floods through you as he stares just a little too long.

“Whatever,” Katsuki grumbles, looking far too pleased with himself for telling someone off.

Instead of arguing with him further, you turn to his quieter companion. Your smile only widens when you find him already staring back. Shouto’s mouth curves up slightly at the edges and he nods, casually slipping a hand into the pocket of his dark jacket—which looks sinfully good on him. Neither of them have any business looking that good in casual wear, you think, trying not to stare at the collarbones revealed by Shouto’s plain v-neck or the biceps Katsuki has on display.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think they were doing it on purpose.

“Hikai.” It’s a simple greeting, more formal than Katsuki’s because you’re both working, but there’s something overwhelmingly soft about the way he says it. You’ve always liked the way your name sounds on his lips.

“Todoroki,” you say in return, the ghost of a smile flickering across your lips as you tease him. “How many times will I have to tell you to call me Yuna?”

Mirth flickers in those blue and gray eyes. “At least one more.”

Katsuki snorts, but by the time your eyes flicker back to him, he’s already frowning down at the nervous child seated beside you. “Who the hell are you?” he asks bluntly, as if he’s already forgotten that Seiji is Izuku’s intern who you’re positive that either you or Izuku have mentioned to the grouchy blond before.

You don’t notice the look that Shouto sends Katsuki.

“Don’t be rude, Bakugou,” you chastise, clicking your tongue at him. He doesn’t even pretend to look apologetic.

Luckily, Seiji doesn’t seem discouraged by the attitude. He practically scrambles out of his chair after the Ground Zero addresses him, nearly dropping the files he was going through before the two Pros stepped in. “I’m Seiji Nakamura, Mr. Ground Zero, sir!” he sputters out, reaching across the desk with one hand for Katsuki to shake. “It’s nice to meet you!”

You smother a laugh at Katsuki’s bewildered reaction to Seiji’s excitement, the high-schooler rambling slightly as he gushes about both Pro Heroes, much to your amusement.

Shouto cuts Seiji off gently. “Sunspot, correct?” At the wide-eyed look and quick nod from the teenager, Shouto hums in thought. “You did well at the Sports Festival,” he says. “It’s unsurprising that Midoriya took you as an intern.”

“You too,” Seiji says stupidly. A look of horror spreads across his face. “No, wait, I didn’t—I mean—obviously, you did well in the Sports Festivals a few years ago, Mr. Shouto. And I’m sure that Mr. Deku would have taken you on as an intern as well, but—”

He’s out of breath, and his face is starting to turn a rather dashing shade of scarlet by the time you place your hands on his shoulders, gently guiding him back onto his chair. You haven’t seen him this much of a jumbled mess of nerves since the day he first met Izuku. At least then the two of them were able to gush about each other. 

“Deep breaths, Nakamura,” you murmur in Seiji’s ear, giving his arm a quick squeeze.

“Right,” he chokes out. He glances up at the amused pros and grabs another stack of reports, quickly burying his face in them to hide his flushed cheeks.

Yeah, he’s definitely Deku’s intern. While Shouto looks almost fond of Seiji’s Izuku-like ramblings, there’s a glint in Katsuki’s eyes that has your hands immediately going to your hips. “Don’t even think about it, Bakugou,” you warn him. “I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.” You know that look. And you’re not going to let him make fun of some poor kid.

He scoffs loudly at the threat. “Like you could.” He looks you up and down slowly, a cocky smirk on his face, and you shudder at the way those red eyes drag across your form shamelessly.

“Wanna bet?” you challenge teasingly, silently glad that your heels are giving you just a little extra height right now. “You scared, Ground Zero?” you continue when he chuckles under his breath.

Katsuki braces his arms against the top of your desk and leans forward until he’s in your face. “I’d like to see you try, short stuff,” he says, low and a little husky, and for a second, you think your brain might short-circuit. 

Forcing your gaze away from Katsuki’s teasing one, your eyes end up finding Shouto. He’s standing a little straighter than before, dual-colored brows furrowed as he stares at Katsuki with a flicker of irritation that disappears as soon as he feels your gaze on him. Those icy eyes flicker to you, unintentionally pinning you in place. Your breath catches.

Clearing your throat, you pull away from the magnetizing gaze as white hot electricity buzzes through you. “Midoriya is ready whenever you’d like to go in,” you inform them, hoping your voice sounds even. “He knew you were coming, so you shouldn’t need to knock.” With that, you reach for your phone again, debating if you should call back Fujikaze now or wait until he’s possibly calmed down.

Katsuki doesn’t let you get far. “Some assistant you are,” he drawls almost lazily, slipping a hand into his pocket. “Not even gonna let him know we’re here?”

From the corner of your eye, you see Seiji watching the three of you intently, his blue eyes jumping rapidly from you to Katsuki to Shouto in fascination. There’s a quip about Katsuki just wanting to stare at your ass on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back, not wanting to taint the poor intern’s virgin ears. Besides, you have to remain at least somewhat professional, even if these are your friends.

You glare at Katsuki as you shift out from around the desk. Your heels click against the tile floor as you walk towards Izuku’s office. Behind you, their steps are quieter, muffled, but still recognizable. Katsuki’s self-satisfied smirk is something you can practically feel against your back.

Knocking twice on the door before opening it, you pop your head in just in time to see Izuku gazing almost wistfully at an All Might action figure before he flushes and quickly shoves it back into the top drawer of his desk. You’re sure the amusement shows on your face when you tell him, “Ground Zero and Shouto are here to see you, Deku.”

His eyes light up when he sees the men standing behind you. “Kacchan! Todoroki!”

“What did I tell you about calling me that? Fuckin’, Deku,” Katsuki grumbles as you step out of the way to let him through. He’s glaring at Izuku half-heartedly, much to Izuku’s amusement, and you roll your eyes as you twist on your heel to return to your desk while the longtime rivals start to argue playfully.

You gasp as you nearly crash into Shouto’s chest, the Hero closer than you thought. A big hand reaches out to steady you as you wobble on your heels, his palm gripping your waist in a firm, yet gentle, hold. His touch is hot even through your dress, and you inhale sharply at the deliciously warm contact.

“Careful now,” he murmurs, voice deeper than usual. Izuku and Katsuki’s bickering seems muffled by the quiet lull of his voice. Humor flickers in Shouto’s eyes and, very carefully, he shifts you so that you’re almost blocked from looking into Izuku’s office. “You wouldn’t want to fall.”

It takes a second too long for you to find your voice. “You’re right,” you say a little breathlessly. He’s so close that you can smell his cologne, light and fresh, though you can’t quite figure out what it is. “Bakugou would never let me live it down.”

He doesn’t laugh, but you’ve known him long enough to recognize the amusement in his eyes. Slowly, and so gently that you almost don’t notice, his grip tightens on your waist.

“Oi, hurry the fuck up, Icy Hot!” Katsuki barks when Shouto hesitates too long in the doorway.

As usual, Shouto ignores him, still staring down at you with a look in his eyes that makes you shiver. The tip of his pinky brushes against your hip and you find yourself leaning into the gentle heat. His eyes rip away from yours as he clears his throat. Shouto glances behind you suddenly, and you follow his gaze to the intern still sitting behind your desk, awestruck and grinning like an idiot. You place a delicate hand on his bicep, drawing his attention away from the giddy teenager with a soft squeeze. “Something wrong, Shouto?”

His gaze snaps back to you as quickly as it left, and those mismatched eyes almost steal your breath as they jump between your own eyes and the fingers curled around his upper arm. Swallowing, he glances at Seiji once again.

When he does speak, his voice is low. Shouto’s breath tickles the shell of your ear, and you can hear the nearly imperceptible tinge of humor. “Is that Midoriya’s secret love child, or something?”

Barely smothering a giggle, you shove him towards Izuku’s office as you shake your head. His lips twitch into a barely there smile.

“Yuna,” he calls you back before you can slip away, the sound of your name on his tongue making heat curl through you. Shouto is as shameless as Katsuki in the way his eyes drag down your body, taking in every inch of you like he wants to commit everything to memory, and you can practically feel the path his eyes take like it’s a physical touch. By the time his eyes find yours again, your chest is tight with something you don’t want to put a name to. “You look beautiful today,” he tells you in a voice barely above a whisper.

Only then, does he let you go. Shouto’s hand falls back to his side, but the heat from his palm is still burning into your side, like fire left in his wake. Your hand slips from his arm just as slowly, trailing down the length of his arm so that your fingers brush before you let him go.

Shouto looks like he wants to say something else, but he shakes his head and offers you a small smile and a nod before stepping into Izuku’s office and walking over to his friends.

You close the door behind you, a shaky sound leaving you as you lean back against the solid surface. 

Seiji is staring at you with wide eyes, his mouth open in a small “o”. When he realizes he’s been caught, he yelps and grabs the nearest file on the desk, opening it to a random page.

“Something wrong?” you ask.

“Nope!”

The rest of the day was a blur. Before you knew it, your paperwork was done, and it was time for you to leave, though you stayed to chat with Izuku a moment before leaving. His smile was tight all afternoon after Shouto and Katsuki left, and it stayed that way until the moment you stepped out the door. 

You could hear the yelling earlier, mostly from Katsuki, of course, but you were surprised to hear a harsh edge to Shouto’s voice as he responded, even if you couldn’t make out what they were saying. At that point, you sent Seiji home, and the meeting between the three Heroes ended soon after, much earlier than usual.

Katsuki stormed out first, cursing under his breath and stomping towards the elevator. He barely spared you a glance as he left, but for a second, you thought his gaze softened when he saw you. Shouto was quieter as he left, a tightness around his eyes, but he nodded at you before disappearing after Katsuki.

Izuku didn’t mention whatever argument they must have had, and you didn’t press. It was none of your business.

You’re barely out of the office before your phone is ringing with the obnoxious tone that you reserve for one person. Fishing your phone from your purse, you’re quick to accept the call without a second thought. “Hello, Mina,” you greet the bubbly woman calmly as you cross the street.

“What are you wearing right now?” she asks, ignoring your greeting entirely. 

A bemused frown slips onto your face, and you sigh. “Mina…” you trail off with a shake of your head. A small part of you wants to ask why she’s curious, but a larger part says it’s better not to question it. Mina has always been a little eccentric, which is something you’ve always loved about her, but sometimes it can be exhausting.

She giggles. You can practically picture the grin on her face. “I bet it’s something sexy,” she teases. “You aren’t wearing anything naughty, are you?”

“I just got off work,” you remind her, assuming that’s why she chose to call now. “What do you think I’m wearing?” Absently, you glance down at the plum colored dress you’re wearing: form-fitting and pretty, but still professional. Izuku isn’t strict when it comes to dress codes, but you have more than just your own image to worry about.

She scoffs. “I’ve seen your office clothes. It’s definitely something sexy. Not that I’m complaining, of course.” You hear the tell-tale sound of Mina flopping dramatically onto the nearest piece of furniture and roll your eyes. She sighs loudly. “Midoriya sure is lucky to get to see your pretty face every day.” 

Your lips quirk into a smile without your permission. “Is there something you want or are you just trying to proposition me?”

“I mean if you want to…” she trails off suggestively.

A snort escapes you. “I don’t think Kirishima would like that very much,” you say, reminding her of her longtime boyfriend. The two have been dating since their third year at UA and are disgustingly cute together. Besides, you’d hate to be a homewrecker.

“He doesn’t have to know.” Mina giggles, only to stop abruptly with a gasp. “Oh! Better yet, maybe he could—”

You cut her off before she can finish the thought. “I’m hanging up now.” 

It’s an empty threat, but Mina reacts immediately.

“No!” she whines, dragging out the word as long as she can. “I’ll behave!” Her try at sincerity is offset by the torrent of giggles she’s unable to smother, and you find yourself grinning as well. “Yaomomo wanted me to call and make sure you’re still on for tonight at her place. We know you’ve been busy with work and the charity event you’re planning for Midoriya, so if you can’t make it tonight, we totally understand, girl.” She pauses. “But if you cancel, Ochako and I are going to break into your apartment and kidnap you anyway.”

“That’s not very heroic of you, Pinky. Eraserhead would be so disappointed.” Frankly, you’re surprised Mina’s class didn’t send him into early retirement. “What was the plan for tonight again?”

“Movies, wine, and talking about boys. The usual.”

Perfect. That’s exactly what you need after… whatever it is that happened today. “You know what? That sounds great right now.” 

Mina squeals. “Yay! Great! I’ll let Yaomomo know right away. What time do you think you’ll be over?”

You hum as you head for the train, trying to estimate the time. “Probably an hour? I have to drop off some files at home and change, but that should be it.”

“Perfect. Tsu got held up with Sirius—you know, wedding planning and all—and Toru has a date tonight, so it’ll just be the five of us.”

You grin. “I’ll bring the wine.”

It’s a few hours later when you find yourself squished onto a couch with Ochako and Kyouka, pleasantly tipsy as you listen to Mina dramatically recount the events of her recent date with Kirishima that somehow involved a one-hundred-and-twenty count pack of crayola crayons, an elderly chihuahua, and a leopard-print shower curtain—you’re a little afraid to ask the logistics of it all—when your phone vibrates in your pocket for what must be the fifth time tonight. 

Finally resigning yourself to check your messages, you wiggle just enough to fish your phone out from under you as the conversation shifts to Toru’s date for the night. The newest message makes you smile immediately, a simple text from Izuku telling you to have fun tonight with too many emojis and exclamation points that you know the rest of the girls must have gotten, too. There’s also one from Iida reminding you to drink responsibly that has your eyes rolling, but it’s the last two notifications that make you freeze.

Shouto and Katsuki’s names make your stupid heart flutter on sight. The messages are virtually the same: have fun, be safe, and call if you’ll need a ride home after. You choke up as you glance over the texts again, your entire chest feeling uncomfortably tight, like there’s a sudden weight curling around your ribcage and squeezing. You blame the wine. The texts are nothing out of the ordinary. You’ve accepted rides from both of them before so tonight shouldn’t be any different.

But it is, a small part of you says. It’s different for you. But you’ve known them both too long to fuck up a perfectly good thing.

“What about you, babe?” Ochako leans over Kyouka to poke your arm, jolting you back to the conversation. “Any men in your life we should know about?”

With that thought in mind and the welcome distraction, you turn off your phone and shove it back into your pocket without responding, even though you know it’ll just make them worry. “Hardly. You know I don’t have time to date right now.” It’s not exactly a lie with how busy you’ve been, but it’s certainly not the main reason. “Besides, I’m not interested in anyone,” you continue.

Kyouka’s expression is sly when she glances at you over the rim of her drink. “That’s not what I heard from Denki. Apparently he saw some pretty interesting things last week. A lunch date, perhaps?”

“Kaminari is full of shit,” you remind her. Already you can feel a flush creeping down your neck. You didn’t know anyone saw you and Shouto. Not that it’s a big deal. Just two friends grabbing lunch. Nothing else.

On the other couch, Mina sits up with a loud gasp. “Wait, which one are we talking about? Bakugou or Todoroki? You’re such a player, Yuna!”

“Todoroki,” Kyouka says before you can protest. “But you’re right, Mina, Bakugou definitely likes her too.”

You roll your eyes. “He does not.”

Ochako leans forward to look at you, shaking her head. “Izuku seems to think Bakugou genuinely likes you.” Her smile widens mischievously. “Apparently, he’s very honest when he’s drunk.”

“Eiji told me the same thing,” Mina chimes in.

“Bakugou wants to fuck me, there’s a difference.” You only sound a little bit bitter when you say it, and the girls see right through you.

“I mean, you aren’t wrong,” Kyouka agrees begrudgingly, looking at you out of the corner of her eyes, “but he definitely likes you more than that. If you two just wanted to screw, I’m sure you would have done it by now.”

You make a face at that but can’t disagree as you reach for your wine glass, downing most of it because you’re definitely going to need it. A part of you hates that she’s right. You certainly could have had some hot, casual sex with Katsuki in the past. He’s never been shy about flirting with you, even if he used to be a hell of a lot worse at it, and you’ve never done a thing to deter him, but one or both of you have always backed off before it can get any further than that, unwilling to risk it. Katsuki is hot, sure, but not hot enough for you to sleep with your friend if it won’t go anywhere.

A low hum from across the room catches your attention. Your gaze flicks to Momo, who’s been quiet so far. There’s a contemplative look on her face, her eyes narrowed in deep thought and her lips set into a firm line. “As does Todoroki,” she says eventually. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at her.” Momo doesn’t elaborate at all, but Ochaoko, Mina, and Kyouka all nod like they know exactly what she means.

Mina looks at Ochako. “Didn’t Midoriya say they hugged today?” she asks, like you’re not sitting right there across from her. “Right there in front of his office? In front of his intern?” She glances at you then, mockingly scandalized. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“It wasn’t a hug,” you argue immediately. “It was…” you trail off awkwardly, trying to find the right word, but nothing better comes to mind. You can’t exactly explain what happened without making it sound like he cradled you in his arms while you felt up his biceps. “It wasn’t a hug,” you repeat as you cross your arms, pointedly not looking at any of them.

“Aww, you’re blushing!”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“So, which one would you rather see naked?”

That last one makes you nearly choke on your drink. “Mina!” Your wide-eyed look makes her cackle. She throws her hands up defensively at your glare. Kyouka and Ochako are already snickering at your expense, and you glare at them too. At least Momo has the decency to look scandalized by the unprovoked attack. Some friends you have.

“It’s a fair question!” Mina tucks her feet beneath her, cups her chin, and pretends to think, weighing her options. “Personally, I think I’d rather see—”

You groan. “Please stop talking.”

Kyouka shakes her head as she pulls her phone out of her pocket, glancing over a text quickly. “What would poor Kirishima say if he heard you thirsting over his friends like this?”

Mina shrugs. “He’d probably talk about their manly physiques.”

“Shit, you’re right. You got me there.” Kyouka sighs and sends a text before sliding her phone back into her pocket. She stands up suddenly, stretching her arms over her head and looking a little more flushed than she was a minute ago. “I’ll be back. Denki wants attention.” Carefully, she maneuvers around your legs, heading for the hallway. 

“Don’t have phone sex in the bathroom again,” you call after her.

She flips you the bird.

Momo stands as well. “And I should go check on the brownies.” For a second, you swear she looks pointedly at Ochako, but then she smiles and claps her hands together and the moment is gone. Momo glances at her seat companion. “Mina, would you accompany me to the kitchen?”

“What? But I—”

“Shut it, Pinky,” Kyouka snaps from out in the hallway. 

Mina pouts but allows Momo to pull her out of the living room and across the hall, the pair speaking in hushed whispers.

The sudden silence is heavier than normal. You glance across the couch to where Ochako is still sitting.

Ochako tucks her legs beneath her and looks at you from the other end of the couch. Her eyes are narrowed and there’s an unfamiliar pensive look on her face as she looks you up and down. You meet her stare with one of your own and cross your arms, daring her to say what’s on her mind now that the two of you are alone.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Ochako clears her throat. “You know,” she starts in a slow drawl, “Izuku told me something interesting today.” When you groan, a grin splits across her face, making her look very much like the cat that got the cream.

“Please, don’t,” you beg, downing the rest of your drink. You glance over your shoulder with a wince, suddenly glad that the other girls are gone.

Ochako continues as if you didn’t speak. “He said Bakugou and Todoroki have been having a…” she trails off, searching for the right word, “disagreement, so to speak. Apparently, things were a little tense during their meeting today.” Her mischievous smile disappears. “They’ve both been flirting with you for ages, you know. You can’t say you haven’t noticed either. Neither of them are exactly subtle about it.”

“I know.” You sigh and rake your fingers through your loose hair, fiddling with the rim of your empty glass with your free hand. Your own expression sobers and suddenly you wish you had another shot in front of you. “What am I supposed to do, Ochako?” you ask so softly she can barely hear you. “I don’t want to lead either of them on, but…”

You clam up before you can finish, already knowing how ridiculous you’ll sound once you say it out loud. It’s not something you’ve ever admitted to any of the girls, despite how often they tease you about the two powerhouses from their class.

“But?” Ochako prods gently, like she knows exactly what’s on your mind.

Another sigh. You set your glass down on the coffee table and curl your legs towards your chest, absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater. “I like both of them,” you say bluntly, grimacing as the words spill out. “I really do. And I know that makes me sound like some indecisive teenager going through an angsty phase—and I’m not going to sit here and whine and wax poetic about them, but they’re both great guys. You know that. They’re both intelligent and funny in their own ways. They’re great Heroes. Bakugou is… well, he’s Bakugou, but he’s charming in his own way. Todoroki is the same way. And, I mean, I’m not fucking blind, you know? They’re ridiculously hot, and it’s kind of unfair.” You finally force yourself to look at Ochako who looks caught between sympathetic and amused. “I’d be lucky to date either one of them.”

She reaches out to pat your arm, her lips quirking upward. “I think they’d be pretty lucky to date you too. You’re pretty hot yourself.”

You laugh in disbelief. “Thanks.”

Ochako shuffles closer to you, taking Kyouka’s abandoned spot and pressing her shoulder against yours. “So, what do you want to do? You know we’ll all support you either way, right?” 

The reassurance brings a small smile to your face, and you nod before dropping your head to rest on her shoulder. “I mean, I was just planning on eating ice cream, crying, and avoiding making life altering decisions for as long as possible.”

“Yuna!” Ochako giggles and shoves you off her shoulder. When you whine, she sends you a mock disapproving look. “Be serious!”

You smother a groan, wanting nothing more than to shove your face into the couch cushions and avoid this conversation entirely. “What do you want me to say, Ochako? That I’d like to let both of them have their way with me?”

An excited squeal from behind you makes you flinch in your seat. With wide eyes, you whip around on the couch. Horror shoots through you as your eyes lock on an ecstatic Mina, Momo and Kyouka hovering in the living room entrance behind her. 

“I fucking knew it!” Mina gasps, clapping her hands together and practically jumping up and down.

You sigh and drop your head back onto Ochako’s shoulder. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you murmur.

She pats the top of your head gently.

Mina skips around the edge of the couch and flops down dramatically, already whipping out her phone as Momo and Kyouka settle onto the other sofa across from you, small, matching smiles on their faces. They’ve never teased you as openly as Mina or Ochako, but just because they haven’t said it out loud doesn’t mean they haven’t thought it.

“You’re being dramatic, Mina,” Kyouka says, folding her arms behind her head on the back of the couch. “It’s not like she was very good at hiding it.” She smirks at you, and you flip her the bird, making Ochako giggle.

Momo remains silent but has to politely cover her mouth with her hand to hide a smile.

Mina waves Kyouka off with a flick of her wrist. “Eijirou owes me twenty,” she tells all of you excitedly. Wiggling in her seat, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, excitedly beginning to type.

You lurch away from Ochako with a horrified gasp. “You are not telling Kirishima about this!” Mortified, you nearly lunge across Ochako’s lap to slap the cellphone out of Mina’s hands, to which she whines loudly. Mina pouts but makes no attempt to grab her phone off the floor.

The glare you send her is half-hearted; her smile comes back full force.

“So, when you say you want them to have their way with you, are we talking separately, or, like, at the same time? Because, to be honest, that’s totally a sandwich I wouldn’t mind getting between.”

Ochako snorts, Kyouka rolls her eyes, and Momo looks particularly scandalized at Mina’s comment.

“I’m too sober for this,” you murmur, shifting on the couch so that you can toss your legs over Ochako’s lap. Blindly, you grope for one of Momo’s throw pillows on the floor. Maybe it’s not too late to smother yourself with it. Frankly, you’d take death over the turn this conversation is taking. You’re loath to admit how much you agree with Mina on the whole sandwich thing—and you know what, maybe you have had enough to drink tonight.

The thought must be clear on your flushed face because Kyouka sends you a knowing look. “Definitely at the same time,” she says.

This time you go through with the smothering plan. The poor pillow is crushed against your face, muffling your words when you ask, “Why am I friends with any of you?” Obviously, you know the answer. These ladies have been with you for the better part of your young adult life, and you wouldn’t trade any of them for the world, but sometimes you really want to strangle them with your bare hands.

Ochako pulls the pillow away from your face and tosses it aside with a smile, making you pout.

“Bitch, you love us,” Mina jokes, throwing you a playful wink.

Kyouka leans forward, resting her chin against her palm. “Besides, who else would put up with your dramatic ass?”

“Kyouka,” Momo chides despite her growing smile.

Ochako giggles and reaches out to poke your cheek. “We do it because we love you.”

Still pouting, you sigh. “I know.” Despite their teasing, you know they only want the best for you, and you appreciate that more than you’d ever be able to put into words. “You guys are the worst. I love you, too.”

“So…” Mina trails off purposefully, pretending to be engrossed with something on her phone—probably Kirishima. “You never answered the question, my dear.”

“Which question is that?” Right now you’re desperately hoping that playing dumb will work. As much as you’d like to continue dissecting your love life—or lack thereof—you can think of at least a dozen things you’d rather be doing. And that short list includes letting Mineta suck on your toes.

“Personally, I’d like an answer to which one you’d rather see naked, but admitting you want to have a threesome with two of the sexiest Pro Heroes of our generation is also acceptable.”

One of your eyebrows quirks upward. “Just of our generation?”

“Aizawa is a fox.” The other girls protest in varying degrees of disgust and Mina crosses her arms. “Why are you booing me, I’m right!”

You bite back a smile as Kyouka pretends to gag. “I have to agree with Mina on that one,” you confess, only half joking. You turn to said girl. “Tell us more about your hot fantasies about Eraserhead.”

“Hey now,” Mina jabs a finger in your direction. “Don’t think you can wiggle out of this one that easily, missy. You’re not distracting me this time. I demand answers about your little love triangle.”

“If I play dumb a little longer will you drop it?”

Mina bats her eyelashes. “Not a chance.”

Suddenly, your mood sobers more than you were expecting. Maybe it’s the wine finally getting to you, or the text messages you’ve been ignoring, or the way that as soon as Shouto and Katsuki stepped into your office today you felt an undeniable warmth flood through you. Just seeing them made everything feel just a little bit better. And now that the girls have started to pry into those feelings, you don’t know if there’s any going back for you. No more ignoring that little feeling in your chest until it goes away.

“Can we please not talk about this tonight?” you ask. The question comes out far softer than you meant it to, and the other girls frown when they see the expression on your face. You can only imagine how pathetic you must look right now.

They exchange a few looks before four pairs of eyes settle back on you, a mix of thoughtful and reassuring.

“Yuna,” Momo calls your name gently, idly playing with her fingers in her lap. She waits for you to look up before she continues. “I’m sure we already know the answer, but…” Another pause. “Do they both make you happy?” The look in your eyes gives you away, and she nods slowly, pondering something else. “In that case, could you be happy with both of them?” A faint blush creeps across Momo’s cheeks but she doesn’t break eye contact with you.

Your frown only deepens. “Momo, what are you—oh.” It hits you a moment too late, and you blink at her stupidly. “Oh!” For a second, you think your entire body is about to combust, and Ochako reaches over to pat your hand as your mouth moves soundlessly.

Kyouka isn’t quite as tactful. “She’s saying just date both of them, you loser.”

You point a finger in her direction. “First of all: rude and uncalled for.” She rolls her eyes. “And I don’t think it’s that simple, Kyouka.” In theory it might be the easiest solution, but already you can think of at least fifty different things that could go horribly wrong if you were to ever bring that up in conversation. Having worked with Heroes for the last three years, you know how the media likes to gossip, and you’re sure they’d have a field day over the Heroes Ground Zero and Shouto being in relationships, let alone with the same person. 

Kyouka doesn’t seem to agree. “It is if you want it to be.”

“Are you saying you have experience with this kind of thing?” Ochako asks, brow furrowing.

“Hell no. You think I could handle two of Denki?”

“Seriously though.” Mina reaches out and grabs your ankle, tugging to get your attention. Her grin is blinding. “Girl, think about the sex. The stamina! Let me tell you, if I didn’t have Eiji—”

You tug your ankle out of her grasp. “You think about my sex life way too much, Mina,” you inform the bubbly girl. She’s certainly not wrong, but you’re not going to be the one to tell her that. Between you, Ochako is biting her lip like she’s trying not to laugh, and you jab a finger into her side, making her yelp. “But fine. I’ll bite. Hypothetically, if I did just… date both of them, don’t you think that would be a disaster?” you ask, glancing at the rest of them. “This is Katsuki and Shouto we’re talking about. They don’t exactly play well with others, let alone each other.”

Nevermind that the two have been friends since high school, there’s still very much some weird friendly rivalry going on between the two of them. The last thing anyone needs is for it to become decisively less friendly. 

“You won’t know unless you try,” Momo offers encouragingly, ever the pragmatic one. 

Ochako nods. “Yeah! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’m left heartbroken, alone with fifty cats, and branded a harlot on national television if anyone finds out,” you say, completely deadpan. So you’re dramatic, it happens. “Oh, I could also lose my job.” That’s probably less likely than the others. You’re pretty sure Izuku would cry if he had to fire you.

Mina scoffs loudly. “Oh, please, we would never let you get that many cats!”

“Besides,” Ochako says, beaming down at you and clapping her hands together, “you’ve got us! We’ll support you through all of your bad decisions, no matter what!”

Kyouka and Momo nod encouragingly, both wearing small smiles.

The conversation keeps buzzing through your mind, and you take your bottom lip between your teeth. Your thoughts stray to the unanswered texts in your back pocket and Katsuki’s crooked smile and the heat of Shouto’s palm sinking into your side.

With another sigh, you lean into Ochako and allow her to wrap her arm around your shoulders. “I know,” you murmur against her shoulder as she strokes your hair. “I’ll think about it.”

[duskowithapen]

Of Flowers And Tattoo Needles Chapter Three

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A Resolution

“Don’t you dare tell her, bug!”

Luka wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. Adrien had walked into the tattoo parlour proper, standing toe to toe with his fiancée, having a full argument in front of them. If Adrien is in a relationship with this Kagami, then what was up with the pet names and the forehead kiss?

“Why are you so intent on keeping this a secret?!” Kagami demanded, waving her rapier under the blonde’s nose threateningly.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!”

“You know that I hate surprises!”

“But this is a good surprise, I promise!”

“Adrien, I swear if you got a dragon tattooed onto your chest I will do something drastic!”

“C’mon Kagami, like Marinette would let me get something so obvious-OH-GODS-DON’T-IMPALE-ME—”

Much to Juleka’s displeasure – she was watching the argument with one of her signature ‘ah yes, chaos’ smirks – Marinette intervened before blood could be shed. “Maybe we could all calm down and talk this out like rational, non-violent human beings. I don’t think bloodstains will do anything for my shop’s reputation.” She pressed a hand to her hip and started Adrien down. “Unless you want to keep playing the scaredy cat, chaton?”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open. A hand was held dramatically to his chest. “So cruel m’lady!”

Kagami huffed and lowered her weapon, turning to give Marinette a bow. “My apologies, Mari-hime. I shall eviscerate him outside.”

“Let’s just not eviscerate anyone, hmm?” Marinette sighed.

The pout that appeared on Kagami’s face made Rose giggle, and it seemed to remind the swordswoman that yes, there were other people in the store. In the back corner, while the redhead was intent on his work, the client was watching them. Kagami bowed again. “I did not realise you had other clients, Mari-hime. Was this a bad time?”

Marinette waved a hand towards the couches. “It’s okay, Gami-chan. I was about to get Luka’s tattoo started, but I should probably help my idiot of a best frien before he gets himself killed.” Adrien visibly wilted at the look Marinette gave him. She turned an apologetic smile onto Luka, and he blinked at the full force of those beautiful bluebell eyes focusing completely on him. “Are you okay if I postpone your tattoo for a little bit? I promise this won’t take too long.”

Luka shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. He was really missing his guitar now. “I’m fine with that. You’re not the only one wanting to know about someone’s tattoo,” he directed at Kagami, who hummed questioningly. “My sister and her partner have been pestering me about my tattoo all morning.”

“See!” Adrien burst out, “Keeping your tattoo secret until it’s finished is normal Kagami!”

A loud clap stopped the argument from restarting. “Alright! If everyone could just sit down, we can get this cleared up,” Marinette said in a tone that demanded total obedience. There was a glint in her eyes that suggested great violence on those who did not comply.

Luka was very lucky that he was standing in front of one of the couches in the first place. That tone of voice, that look on her face… he dared any man not to get a bit weak in the knees.

“Sounds like a plan,” Juleka murmured as she brushed past, shooting him an uncomfortably knowing look as she sat by Rose’s side. “Considering that Luka thought you and Adrien were together. Care to explain how he could have come to that conclusion?”

There was a moment of silence. Luka and Marinette’s faces flared up in identical blushes. Adrien’s face reddened slowly as he bit his lip. Kagami’s eyebrows rose past her fringe. In the back corner, the client was still watching like the whole situation was a soap drama.

Then laughter.

Luka’s head snapped up as Kagami of all people started giggling, stern face crinkling into a smile as she tried to smother her amusement behind one fist. Adrien finally took a breath, losing his battle with the laughter he’d been restraining. His tugged his fiancée down onto the other couch with him. “Oh god, really?!”

Marinette dropped into the seat beside Luka, face hidden behind her hands. He leaned in a little. “I feel like I’m missing something?” He said lowly.

A blush still stained her face when Marinette looked up. Despite their closeness, she didn’t shift away. “Just a little, yeah,” she replied hoarsely. “I just feel so stupid. There I was, practically throwing myself at you, and you seemed interested, and then Adrien walks in, and oh god, you must have thought I was some floozy, that I was flirting with you despite having a boyfriend – which we’re not by the way, I swear I’d never cheat on you – I mean, if we were together I wouldn’t cheat – not that I’d cheat on Adrien if we were together, which again, we aren’t – but I wouldn’t have said those things or done anything if I was with someone else, but you didn’t know that, and ugh it’s all just a great big fucking mess –” Marinette stopped with a sudden inhale as Luka pressed a finger to her lips.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he whispered, ignoring their avid audience. “I admit, I was confused, but I figured I could try and clear it up today anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d made a wrong assumption,” he said with a self-depreciating chuckle, “I’ve never been all that good with people. I find it easier to communicate through my music than anything else.”

Marinette opened her mouth to reply, and Luka had to restrain a shiver at the feeling of soft lips against his guitar calluses. “I really am sorry, Luka. I keep forgetting how mine and Adrien’s… dynamic can be seen by other people.” She paused for a moment, looking away, before continuing, “And I think you communicate pretty well like this. Better than my anxiety-fuelled rambling anyway.”

Luka leaned in a little closer, drawing his finger down her chin and barely brushing her neck before pulling it away. “I thought it was kinda adorable,” he whispered.

Adrien coughed, pulling the two out of their haze. “Uh, I just wanted to apologise, Luka. I’m a very touchy-feely kinda person, and I keep forgetting that not everyone, y’know, hugs and kisses and just generally touch their friends as much as I do. I was… isolated as a kid, and I never really got the concept of personal space.” Now, didn’t that sound concerning?

He waved a hand at the nervous looking blonde. “That’s okay Adrien. I can get a bit touchy too – I shouldn’t have made assumptions. People have thought the same thing about Juleka and I before.” That had made for a very awkward conversation as they explained to the landlady no, they weren’t teenage lovers, but siblings who had decided to move in together.

“It’s all the nicknames,” Juleka said with a smirk, “Wasn’t it your dad you asked if he needed to design two wedding dresses, Adrien?”

Marinette groaned deeply and twisted to bury her face in Luka’s shoulder, hand grasping his jacket just in front of her face. “Don’t remind me,” she said, words half-muffled, “I can’t look Mr Agreste in the eye anymore!”

“Out of curiosity, where did the nicknames come from?” Luka asked, trying to keep a straight face as he wrapped an arm around Marinette’s waist, holding her to his side. Based on Juleka’s fake retch, he wasn’t very successful.

It was Adrien’s turn to blush, as he grabbed Kagami’s hand. “Well, like I said, I was an isolated kid. The only kind of unsupervised social interaction I got was when I played Ultimate Mecha Strike online. When I was thirteen, I met a player called Buginette03 – who tuned out to be Marinette – and we got pretty close, despite not sharing our real names. I’d ask Bug for advice when it came to my father, or later on, social stuff, and then she’d ask me for help when her anxiety spiked, or she started catastrophising.”

“And he’d use me as a sounding board for his awful pickup lines,” Marinette cut in, finally pulling her head away from Luka’s arm. It suddenly felt very cold. “You are such a cat-ch is a horrible excuse of both a line and a pun.”

“Hey! It worked with Kagami, didn’t it?”

Both Marinette and Kagami rolled their eyes. “Obviously, she took pity on you, kitty,” the tattooist said, deadpan.

“I found your determination in finding a successful line pitiful enough to be amusing.” Was Kagami’s response.

“Meowch!” Adrien said, insulted. “So cruel, ganging up on a poor cat!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and turned to face Luka properly. “Anyway, after almost a years worth of playing with each other and chatting, we decided to… reveal ourselves, I guess? I was so surprised when I realised that the snarky, goofy LostKittenOnTheCatwalk was actually in my class.”

Adrien slapped Kagami gently when she scoffed at his username. “Hey, I thought it was funny! I was thirteen!” He shook his head for a second. “But yeah, I was both surprised but not when I found out that Marinette was Buginette. Like, once I knew, I wondered how I could have thought it was anyone else.”

“We tried to date for a little bit,” Marinette said, taking up the narrative. “We thought that it was a ‘meant to be’ kind of thing, but it didn’t really work out.”

“We’re partners, but not? We work better as close friends, or siblings, rather than lovers,” Adrien looked at Marinette with a small smile. “I’m just glad that Marinette chose to remain friends with me. Probably not her smartest move,” he said with a shrug, “But oh well.”

Kagami flicked Adrien in the shoulder as Marinette pulled a pencil out nowhere and threw it. “Don’t get started on that again, chaton,” The tattooist said sternly. “We were both young, and stupid, and made you, stupid mistakes that we both learned from. And I will get Kagami to bash that into your thick head if I have to!”

Adrien waggled his eyebrows halfheartedly. “Not wanting to bruise me up yourself, m’lady?”

Marinette’s response was a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. “I think I’ll leave that dubious honour to Kagami. Besides, I already got to stab you.”

“Indeed,” Kagami said with a frown, “I am still waiting for an explanation of your tattoo, Adrien.”

“Well-look-at-the-time-gotta-GO!” Adrien was on his feet in an instant, sprinting out of the store. “See-ya-later-guys-bye!”

Kagami followed suit with a low bow, a murmur on how nice it was to meet them all, and then she was gone, smirk crossing her lips and sword held firmly in one hand. Luka wasn’t sure if he should be worried about Adrien’s safety or not.

His attention was pulled away when Marinette patted his arm. “They’ll be alright,” she soothed, “Kagami’s been stressing out over a fencing competition for a while, so Adrien’s been drawing out the whole ‘no you can’t see what my tattoo is’ thing so that she’ll actually take a break. Pretty sure this is the first time she’s left the dojo for something other than food or sleep for a week.”

“What is Adrien’s tattoo?” Rose asked, leaning forward.

“I’ve still got the concept page, if you’ll just give me a moment…” Marinette jumped up and rifled through her desk, returning with a thick, tattered at the edges sketchbook. She flicked it open to a drawing of a curled up dragon the size of Luka’s palm. It was Chinese style – all long body, short legs, fur crest running down it’s length, flowing whiskers – in various shades of black and red. The crest was a pale shade of yellow, contrasting with the dark gold underbelly. Lighter gold made up the claws and teeth. The eyes were, surprisingly, a rather normal brown. The dragon was curled into a circle, with it’s jaw open. Interestingly, it wasn’t breathing fire, but rather a stream of what appeared to be wind, portrayed in curling lines of grey that created clouds around the dragon. Scattered throughout were tiny gold stars.

“It’s beautiful, Marinette,” Luka breathed, glancing up at the blushing artist. “You’re incredibly skilled.”

Her stammers were covered up by Rose’s squeals. “It’s so detailed Marinette! I take it that the dragon is meant to be Kagami?”

“Ye-yeah. It’s inspired by a story about the dragon of the stars, which was one of Kagami’s favourite when she was little, and Adrien wanted to have it curled up over his heart to show how she both owns his heart and protects it – thus the clouds and kina scary expression.” Marinette traced over the drawing slowly. “Definitely one of my best works.”

“Just one of your best?” Luka asked lowly.

When Marinette looked up, a blush still tinted her cheeks, but there was a determined spark in her eye. “Yeah. There’s this messy haired florist who’s getting my best tattoo at some point, if he still has time to have it done?”

“I’m all yours Marinette.” And oh, how Luka hoped he could make that literal.

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Juleka said with a smirk, grasping a protesting Rose by the shoulders and pushing her towards the door. “I expect progress photo, big brother!”

He just waved a hand in her direction, not taking his eyes off Marinette’s. “Yeah, yeah, I will, you impatient brat.”

When the door shut behind them, Marinette extended one ink-stained hand. “So. Ready to get stabbed?”

Luka took it. “By you? Always.”

A few days later, after tattoos were drawn, inked, admired, wrapped and cared for, Luka appeared outside Charmed Ink. In his hands was a large bouquet of flowers – Pink orchids, larkspur, daffodils, cherry blossoms, blue morning glories and hyacinths. In the very centre was a single lilac.

For love beginning.  

[touchmycoat]

Pan Guan, Ch. 51 excerpts

During that time, Wen Shi was actually quite clingy.

Only he would never say it, nor would he pester Chen Budao with his requests. He didn’t need to be hugged and he didn’t need to be held; the way he clung was simply following Chen Budao everywhere.

As if only being where Chen Budao was could give him peace of mind.

Though Chen Budao had been the one to give him the name Wen Shi, Chen Budao would never properly call him that. He was always coming up with nicknames for Wen Shi.

If Wen Shi was sullen and unhappy and silent, Chen Budao called him “Mute Kiddo.” If Wen Shi followed only half a step behind him from place to place like a snowy little bundle of sticky rice, Chen Budao called him his “Little Tail.”

(**T/N: translation missing a cute little pun here. “Mute kiddo” is 小啞巴 xiao ya ba and “Little Tail” is 小尾巴 xiao wei ba; there’s both structural similarity and rhyme.)

Children forgot easily. Unhappy things, as long as they went unmentioned, were quickly tossed to the back of the head. Early on, Wen Shi was also like this—

Chen Budao gave him medicine to soak in for a few days, and the black mist around his hands went away, so he could sleep peacefully until morning again. Because of this, he thought that it wasn’t such a big deal anymore.

Truthfully, that was because the chill he’d gotten had gotten better, and his spirit had steadied. But he didn’t know this—he thought that his physicality had changed, and the things hidden in his body had lessened in quantity.

That year probably saw Wen Shi with the least burdens. He even brought his Golden Dapeng down the mountain the play.

Though he was quite restrained in his play as well. And quiet.

People off the mountain still called him a demon. Young ones either threw rocks at him from afar or turned tail and ran, as if, were they to stay for just a little longer, he’d start peeling their skin and eating their flesh.

That was why Wen Shi never headed for crowded places, picking specifically empty areas to hole up. Mountain cols, forests, mountain streams. This would later become his natural instinct.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t very animated himself, but he liked those lively and active things, and the peak of Songyun Mountain was too cold for living things to survive for long. At the base of the mountain, he could find a warren of rabbits, a few turtles, even just two fish, and he could watch them for a very long time.

[…]

Wen Shi fought those things in his dreams for a very long time.

When he finally opened his eyes, he found that he was no longer on his bed, but rather standing in front of Chen Budao’s bedroom door. Torrents of black mist covered his hands like knives, and he was just about to worm inside the room.

He stood there frozen in panic for a long while before flinching, turning, and running away. He didn’t dare close his eyes after that.

The Golden Dapeng was not scared of the black mist, this Wen Shi knew. He didn’t return to his room, instead sat with his legs folded on the stone cliff where they trained. He scritched at the Golden Dapeng’s fuzzy head and saw that even wrapped in the black mist the bird was still full of life. Only then did he feel a little bit better.

He didn’t know how long he sat there for before he heard rustling behind him. It was the sound of robes brushing gently over powdery white snow.

He knew that Chen Budao had come. But he kept himself closed off and didn’t turn around.

Because the moment he thought of how he’d stood in front of Chen Budao’s door like some kind of ghoul last night, he felt indescribably bad. Back then, he couldn’t understand why he felt bad. It was only a long time later that he figured out it was a type of fear.

Fear that one day, he would lose control of himself and hurt the person he least wanted to hurt. Even though he knew that with the tiniest bit of precaution, Chen Budao could make himself impossible for Wen Shi to injure.

“How come my tail’s fallen here?” Chen Budao bent over behind him and, with a palm under his chin, lifted his head.

Maybe it was because his eyes were too red, but Chen Budao startled before wiping away the tears hanging at his chin and turning him around.

Wen Shi held out a single hand and said, “those things came out again.”

Chen Budao nodded. “I see them.”

Wen Shi thought he would ask “what happened.” Instead, he heard him say, “does it hurt?”

Actually, it hurt. It really, really hurt. It was the type of hurt that bore into the head, the heart, the body, that stuck to the soul and couldn’t be shaken.

But perhaps he’d been awake for a while. At Chen Budao’s question, Wen Shi felt that it was alright. So he shook his head and mumbled, “no.”

Chen Budao bent at the waist, staring at the top of Wen Shi’s head. After a moment, he said, “you’re still so young, and you’ve already learned to lie.”

Wen Shi wrinkled his brow and looked up, asking, “how do you know I’m lying?”

Chen Budao, “because I’m your teacher.”

He sat down on the stone steps. Wen Shi took a look at the black mist all over his own body and quietly scooted himself a little bit away. He thought that he was careful and wouldn’t be noticed, but most likely, Chen Budao saw everything.

The other was silent for a while, before saying, “I’m going to show you something.”

Wen Shi kept his distance but stared at him in wide-eyed curiosity.

Chen Budao held a palm out at him. The hand was clean, and it was warm. It was better looking than any hand Wen Shi had ever seen. He stared at it for a while, and couldn’t help but put his own black hands behind his back.

But the moment they were hidden, he saw that dustless, unsullied hand of Chen Budao’s begin to emanate the same black mist as his did, ceaseless and in waves…

Wen Shi was so shocked he forgot to talk.

Chen Budao explained that that year, war and famine had been endless. He’d walked many places, and nearly all of them were cages made of countless people all gathered together.

All that resentment was almost impossible to dissolve away. It could only be repressed and treated slowly.

Chen Budao closed his fingers and that black mist obediently disappeared, with no sign of rearing up by tooth and nail. He said, “so you see, I’m the same as you.”

Only on that day did Wen Shi find out that he wasn’t the only person like this in the entire world. There was also Chen Budao.

What was first malignant in the heart had suddenly become a secret connection. Besides the two of them, nobody else knew.

“Then how come yours doesn’t run wild?” Wen Shi asked.

“Because I’m calm,” Chen Budao said.

[…]

That was the first time Wen Shi had been brought inside a cage—the herb-picking grandmother’s.

At the time he’d only learned the basics; he didn’t know how to use puppets, or talismans, or arrays. There wasn’t anything he could do inside the cage besides follow Chen Budao.

But a regular person’s unfinished business wasn’t bound to be anything earth-shattering. That cage was really small, and was no trouble to undo. Chen Budao only brought him along to see that grandmother one more time.

The Wen Shi back then thought that it seemed like Chen Budao could see through all of his thoughts. He didn’t even say anything, but Chen Budao knew everything anyways.

After they came out of the cage, Chen Budao led him back to the mountaintop and guided a wisp of worldly ties out by his fingers. He said, “that grandmother left you a little something. What would you like, a rabbit? A fish? A bird?”

Wen Shi asked him, “what can live forever?”

Chen Budao said, “every living thing has an end.”

Wen Shi held out the bird in his arms. “But you said the Golden Dapeng can.”

Chen Budao, lifting a brow, “you’re pretty smart.”

Of course he didn’t make what an old woman left behind into a puppet to be controlled. Nor did he point to the Golden Dapeng and say, like before, that the birdie was back from the dead.

After all, the little disciple was a bit bigger now, and was harder to lie to.

He guided the herb-picking grandmother’s leftover sentiments into the mountaintop spring. There it became a golden red koi fish.

That was the first time Wen Shi truly understood the purpose of the panguan’s existence—to send away those who had to leave, and then leave something for them on this red-dusted earth.

Wen Shi crouched by the spring and asked, “how long do fish live?”

Chen Budao said, “depends on how you take care of it. If you take good care, this fish can live for seventy, eighty years—enough for a regular person’s life time. If you don’t take good care it can also be belly-up tomorrow, so you best be careful.”

Wen Shi glared at him, not understanding why he had to make things so dangerous.

Next to the spring was a white plum tree. The flowers were in bloom, and the entire tree was white as snow. Wen Shi pointed at the tree and asked, “how old is that?”

Chen Budao gave it some thought and said, “about the same as me? Pretty old.”

To Wen Shi back then, Chen Budao was an immortal who neither grew old nor died. So as he crouched by the spring and watched the fish, he mumbled quietly that after he could solve cages too, he would turn all those worldly ties into trees.

Chen Budao teased him, “all those trees, where are you going to plant them? And trees can’t open their mouths and talk to you.”

Wen Shi, “can a fish?”

Leaning against a tree and watching him, Chen Budao laughed lowly and said, “don’t be tricked by all the silence, he’s really something when he’s mean.”

Wen Shi kept his head down and ignored Chen Budao, stacking mountain pebbles in the spring. After stacking for a while he felt that this spring was much too empty, and the one little fish was too lonely.

“You don’t say a single word for most of the day but now you’re scared the fish will die from having no one to talk to?” Chen Budao lifted a brow; this felt a bit novel. Moments later he nodded, straightened, and left.

Not long after he returned with something in hand. He bent over and placed it into the spring, saying, “found something to keep it company in your place.”

Wen Shi looked, and saw a little turtle.

He looked up and kept Chen Budao’s gaze for a long while before he too turned and left. A bit later, he brought back another turtle and tossed it into the spring.

Chen Budao’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s this taking the place of?”

Wen Shi didn’t even look up. “You.”

Chen Budao laughed once, and scolded, “insubordinate.”

Thinking back now, Wen Shi discovered that though he talked his fair share as a kid, he still left Bu Ning and them with an impression of aloofness. That might be because everything he had to say, he said to Chen Budao.

(god i love this novel so much)

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The Pink Pearl

Kanene’s Notes:

Soooo... I needed to improve my action scenes. And then this fanfic was born! :D)/ 

It has pirates and ghosts and pirate ghosts! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic was a bit inspired on that fabulous video  right here.

* Contains: Angst, Cursing, Hypnosis, Implied death, Clear description of bein hypnotized, clear description of a ship burning to the ground, Hur/Comfort, Mild Comfort, Mystical beings, Magic, Happy ending, Hopeful Ending.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to Thomas Sanders.

* Something around 3.500 words. -w-)b.

* You can also find this fic on AO3.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading! Eat a snack, rest, watch that favorite movie you have been wanting to see again, take care and drink water! Byeioo!~

                        [~*~]

“I need help.” He tried to not grimace with how the words dried even further his hurt throat as they left his lips, shivering when a sudden breeze from night’s cold froze the sweat on his skin. Remy - at least that was what he said his name was, but trusting in a pirate word could lead you to not so pleasant storms - snorted, moving his cuffs and pressing their backs closer.

 “Yeah, no shit.” His voice was raspy, tired, and not for the first time Emile wondered for how long he had been there, since his presence was already a constant when the amateur sailor’s boat had been plundered and he got captured, thrown on the darkest part of the ship and finding his company.

 “That makes two of us.” The last part came out as a bitter whisper.

 A peaceful wave hit the hull, making the ship stumble and rock under the moonlight that gazed pieces of their skin through a few cracks in the highest woods.

 “No. I mean, yes, but…” Emile sighed deeply, tired awareness washing over him as the sailor realized the full extent of his next words. He rested his head on Remy’s shoulder, a move which led the other to untense his muscles and be more open to conversations.

 They didn’t have much more time before the moon hit its highest spot in the sky and Emile wasn’t sure if they would make it to another full moon. Remy could only distract the crew so much. “I need your golden necklace.”

 The other stiffed, breath hitching, stiff pose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 “Yes, you do.” Calm voice, free of any accusation, his brown eyes stared at the ‘ceiling’ picturing stars and constellations and the unstable clouds and how it feels when the salty breeze hit his skin freely. “I know it’s probably an important possession for you given how long you’ve been hiding it, and I’m really sorry I am asking for it but we really need a good offering.”

 “Are you going to beg Neptune to save us?” Sound of fabric being ripped, the metal’s clicking making itself known. “He has islands and ships of gold being given to him right now, goldenfish. This may be a preciosity, but isn’t that worth it.” 

 Goldenfish: Breakable; Pirates who didn’t experience the true nightmares of surviving in the ocean; Naive; Fragile;

 “If I’m going to go in a shit way, at least let a captain die with the last of his treasures.” His voice choked in the middle of the sentence, but both pretended to not notice it.

 Emile felt dread fill his stomach, tightly closing his eyes as tears pricked their corners. Their captors never held their tongue, always discussing all their possibilities to get rid of their prisoners during parties and meetings on the main deck, voices loud enough to be heard by them both. Besides, the sailor was sure the crew wouldn’t stop themselves from making morbid remarks whenever Remy was called to ‘amuse’ them, even though the other refused to say anything to him when he was back, playing it off with some sarcastic sentences and ironic expressions.

 (Emile attempted to be interesting one time, trying to pry their attention from Remy at all costs. His light-hearted efforts and humored puns were rewarded with nasty bruises and more chores to deal with. There were no sarcastic phrases that day.)

 Still… It was the first time they talked about it out loud. Ignoring their eventful end made things more forgettable, easier to look away. But, now Emile was sure he wasn’t the only one sensing the impatience clouding and suffocating the air around them as the days went by.

 Emile wished they had more time. “We’re not going to die and I’m not going to pray to Neptune. Not today.” Remy scoffed, yet listening. “I have a pink pearl with me, it can…” His sentence trailed off, his tired mind trying to find an easy way to explain his family situation. “Some spirits own me a favor.” 

 Emile had seen Remy’s eyes when he was dragged, barely conscious, to his prison for the first time. They were black and deep like the bottom of the Ocean, full of untold beauties and unseen mysteries. He could almost feel their glare on him.

 “Do your spirits happen to be friends with the sea nymphs? The Thunder Damsels? Because that is the only fucking way we’re getting out of this.”

 “They can help.” Emile stayed firm, trying to buckle their conversation out the way it was heading.

 “Because…?”

 “Remy, we don’t have much more time, please, give me the necklace.”

 “Oh, of course, I am sorry for trying to know who my last possession is going to. What a bitch, am I right? Wait! Thinking better about it, why don’t we go up there and ask for the crew to help us? They’re full of gold, too!” He hissed. Because he couldn’t even shout out his irritation. Because it has been days since he last slept due his haunting nightmares, but the possibility of this being a dream freezes his blood and tights his throat. Because Emile’s hope was beginning to make its way to his soul and he knew how dangerous that could be.

 “Ghosts, ok?! They are ghosts!”

 Remy stared the wall in disbelief, seconds passing by. Emile closed his eyes.

 “My stars, are you trusting our lives to haunting ghosts?” He barked a laugh, despair and astonishment dripping from his words. 

 But Emile didn’t laugh, seeming to shrink behind him.

 So, Remy stopped, convincing himself that it was because of the coughing fit that hit him, molesting his dry throat, and not the soft heart he so fiercely denied to have.

 Someone dropped a cup on the upper floor, curses immediately following suit. The sound made them both jump a few inches in the air, unable to stop the squirming, the shivering. The other’s whisper cut the silence.

 “If you can’t trust me now, I don’t know when you will.”

 Remy sighs, pressing their backs closer and lightly elbowing his ribs. 

 “Drop the pout, starfish.” As he got up, his chained hands maneuvered to grab his necklace from the hidden pocket on his boot, dropping it on the cold floor and carefully pushing it in Emile’s direction. “If this doesn’t work, I’m getting you back later.”

 “Thank you.” The sailor’s smile only increased as Remy scoffed. Although, he didn’t have too much time to rest in the warm feeling blooming on his chest, quickly getting the pearl from his own hidden place. He gathered the two objects on his hands before sitting in front of a small hole he opened on the lower part of their cell, a glimpse of the ocean shining behind it. 

 Deep breaths. Ok. He could do this.

 The well known chant sea flew from his mouth. It sounded like sunny afternoons and picnics, and nights embraced on the dimming dark, and soft hugs, and loud laughter with the feeling of freedom and dances around a wooden, crowned table. It was melodious, it was memories and his last shout of hope. His energy, his gratitude, his fear, his last chance, his last treasure, everything was offered.

 The objects fell from his palms and were engulfed by the deep, incessant waves. 

 For a moment nothing happened and Remy regretted all his life choices, a not new habit of his, however at least this time he had a different reason, especially as Emile continued the tunes of that old song, apparently unfazed by the clear failure of his attempt.

 Then Remy realized.

 Besides his voice there was…quiet.

 A life dedicated to explore and navigate the seven seas could be a lot of things. I could be dangerous, it could be difficult, lonely, adventurous, memorable, exhausting and even boring. But never quiet. There was always something. Always the melody of the waves carrying your ship, the wind slapping the sails, the mermaids whispering in your ears, a curse daunting your dreams… Silence could be present, but not for long and never as absolute.

 But now…?

 Now everything was quiet.

 And that made a run shiver run across his spine, muscles tenses, instincts shouting. “Emile?”

 The sailor didn’t respond, didn’t even stir as the temperature turned unbearably colder.

 “Emile,” His dark eyes widened as his breath became visible in the air. “Emile, stop singing!”

 “I already did.” He whispered, his stranger soft voice muffled, with something missing.

 The ex captain noticed the truth behind his words as he concentrated. His senses could notice the melody coming from nowhere specific, echoing on the walls in a steady, patient pace. 

 A soft high pitched giggle cut the song. And, no, Remy did not shriek. Shut up.

 “They’re here.” Emile’s voice was filled with something he couldn’t quite place, nor did have time as, in the middle of the room, a silhouette started to form, trembling and bending the light around it.

 [...]

 Aaron didn’t believe a lot of things, which, in itself, doesn’t mean that the amount of things he did believe was in any way whimsy. 

 Actually, he considered himself a very rational, plain figure. He believed in what he saw, touched and experienced. That is why he was on the nocturn security duty. His mind wasn’t easily fooled and his instincts were something he had plenty of capacity to control. 

 He prided himself on the moments of dinner and drinking, the hours of dawn when the crew would be a tad too drunk, playing and saying that, if any day Aaron stumbled on the feathered singer - because even on the fog of the rum, they knew best than say the name of the creatures out loud and pull bad luck onto their travel - he would be controlled enough to laugh at them, spit some curses and them navigate away while appreciating their nice melody in the background.

 That was the memory which clawed on him as the mist involved the masts, swirling in a calm manner to the wooden floor, a whispering beginning to take over his eardrums. It was a song that made his bones ache and muscles tremble. He closed his hands on fists, nails tearing the epidermis to stay firm. 

 Even when a not-quite red, not-quite translucid figure appeared four feet away from him. Sitting in front a mesmerizing pitfire, carefully rocking the silver liquid in the golden chalice held firmly by his fingers, his lips parted, the chant pouring from them.

 And the fire? The fire danced under his control, at each musical note it contorted and expanded, inch by inch, flame by flame. It got higher, vivid, swirling wound the translucid form who extended his hand and let the element run freely across his palm, petting it as if it was a domesticate, harmless animal.

 The calm melody hit its climax, the high, vibrant note was prolonged, taking over the air, stealing all the attention and all the oxygen from the viewer.

 He got up and the flames continued to travel from his hands through his body, burning his clothes which dissolved in brilliant ashes and left behind a gleaming trail of a completely new vestment being formed.

 Under Aaron’s – mesmerized – attentive gaze long crimson sleeves involved his arms, crawling across his shoulders and leading the way to his chest, a warm white fabric shining under the moonlight, the fervent grooves that cut it in the form of limpid waves flowed through the petticoat from the gorgeous dress from the figure that couldn’t be named as translucid, anymore.

 The song stopped.

 The flames, much higher, much larger, raised like curtains behind the mysterious being, and his scarlet screaming eyes focused on Aaron, stealing his oxygen, again, and demanding – commanding him to show - every slight drop of his attention. His lips parted, one more time.

 The song was back.

 And he began to dance.

 The fire accompanied the synchronized movements of his arms, also performing its own dance on the ship, spreading across the floor on the rhythm of his footsteps, sliding from the vestment’s veils and taking over all the space, climbing the ratlines, burning the masts, consuming the emergency boars and dancing together with the red figure and his frenetic melody, which overflowed and inundated everything around, attacking and drowning Aaron, who didn’t allowed his glare to deviated from the moves before him for one single second, all the others things being forgotten.

 Beautiful. Everything was beautiful.

 “And wouldn’t it be even more if you could dance with him?” A velvety voice – that wasn’t his – whispered on his mind in golden shades.

 “Yes…” Aaron answered, hoarse. When did his throat get so dried like this? Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Why wasn't the oxygen coming back?

 “Then go.” The gold thought was fast in cutting his line of thinking, leading him to focus one more time on the figure in front of him. “He will love to guide you through the steps.”

 And Aaron agreed quickly, wondering how the other’s hands would feel under his touch. If they would be cold for his previous translucent state or hot just as the fire that accompanied him. He questioned himself if the flames would follow his pace, dancing with him, as well. He wanted. He wanted to be so beautiful like this. Maybe if he controlled the fire, maybe if he showed himself so skilled like this the being before him, he would be the one mesmerized. He would be the one to bow and to ask him for a dance.

 He got closer and closer from the fire, extending his hand, about to pet it.

 Perhaps…

 A splitting pain spread like an explosion through the length of his arm and Aaron moved away with a scream, tears falling from his eyes with the painfully beat of his burned hand capturing all his senses, the song and dance disappearing from his mind.

 And suddenly the frightened screams filled his eardrums. Sounds of pleas for help, of kicks and punches and wood crackling smacking him in an only one hit that destabilize the pirate, leaving him coughing and gasping and loud, so LOUD-

 His eyes widened. Hot. Hot. Everything was burning. He was burning.

 He wanted to scream. His throat was dry, but he needed to scream, needed to warn everyone, needed to-

 “Rest.” The calm, velvety voice came back to his mind, offering peace, a safe space to where he could flee.

 (An illusion made especially for him.)

 However, he couldn’t. Everything was hot and burning and it shouldn’t be like that. He knew it shouldn’t be like that. This wasn’t normal. Wasn’t good. Screams.  He also needed to scream. Because he was hot and the ship was hot and he was-

 “-With a fever. You’re burning from sickness. Just a small fever isn’t something worth waking and alerting the others, right? You’re so clever, so strong, you sure can manage to ignore such futile, delirious dream alone. Maybe the rest of the crew wouldn’t be able to, but you’re braver. No one can ever fool you.”

 Yes. This was true. He was intelligent, reasonable. That is why they always choose him to be on the night duty, because no one could do a better job than him.

 A very known song begins to ask for his attention, one more time.

 He can do it. He knows how to take care of the danger, so-

 “-so there is no reason to worry, because there isn’t any danger here. It’s just a dream. A beautiful dream.”

 His eyes rise and meet again with the dancer. Beautiful. So beautiful.

 “Yes. That is true. Then why don’t you just relax and enjoy your wonderful, special dream?” The yellowish, velvet aura involves his body and suddenly the hotness stops to bother him, just like the ship dismantling in flames and the screams of help of the pirates locked on their rooms, terrified by the illusions taking form and life in the middle of the darkness.

The red eyes, for a second, focused on something behind Aaron, smiling, before finally sticking on his, the smile still on his expression as his hand went in his direction and rested on his forehead, a melodious tune following his acts.

 “Sleep and dance on your dreams.”

 And then everything disappeared in soot and ebano.

 [...]

 “Oh my stars!! Martin! It’s been so long!” Émile controlled himself to not laugh at Remy’s astonished expression – even if the shorter tried to hide it in a nonchalant behavior, - which proved itself to be simpler when the sky-blue ghost dashed until they were face to face, squeezing his cheeks and alternating between smiling at him and frowning at the number of old and new bruises that covered his skin. “You’re so tall now!! You kiddos grow up so fast!! Do these hurt? No worries! Roman, Remus and Janus are taking care of everything so we will be able to properly take care of you and your friend in a bit, okay? It’s been so much time since they saw you! I bet they also can’t wait to hear all the news!”

 Picani stared deep into that shiny gaze, couldn’t help himself but smile back at Patton, a faint, almost erased memory of the blue figure helping him and his grandpa to make cookies in one of the docks they used to visit, they all whistling happily the known melody shining on the back of his mind. The memory was blurred, mostly consisting in laughter, songs and a warm feeling.

 “Pat,” he gulped, mindless playing with the chains that locked his wrists on the walls of the cell, a frown in his face. Patton lightly hit the side of his own head, dislodging a bit his glasses’ frame, letting go of his face and heading to the keys poorly hanging on a rusty nail on the other side of the room.

 (A constant reminder from the others of the freedom they could achieve if they only would be able to research the keys…)

 “That is right, that is right!” He carried a happy aura on his steps, floating to them in a fast pace, unlocking their cell, kindly glancing at him and Remy, who eyed him for a few seconds before having his attention claimed by smoke descending from the cracks on their ceiling. “We should probably be heading out here just now!”

 “Pat,” Emile tried again, holding his hand when the ghost freed him, ignoring the goosebumps running across his arms in a protest about the coldness of the other’s skin. His tune was careful. “I am Emile. Emile Picani. My dad gave me the pearl.” Patton’s smile faltered, a glint of understanding and something else taking over the gleam on his eyes. “It’s been twenty three years.”

 “Oh,” he muttered, squeezing his hands back, eyes looking for something in his gaze. Something Emile couldn’t quite place. “oh, kiddo… I am sorry.”

 Emile gave him a kind, sad smile.

 “Me too.”

 “You really grew up fast, didn’t you, kiddo?” Remy deviated his eyes from the scene, partly because the feeling of twist on his guts meant that he was probably intruding on a private moment and partly because his attention was again held by the sudden, growing hotness which didn’t cease to expand across the entirety of the ship. Muffled screams coming from all the places and nowhere at the same time. His body started to get absurdly antsy with adrenaline, sweat dripping from his forehead.

 A flaming part of the ceiling fell in the middle of their cell, jolting the two from their conversation, the blue ghost blinking a few times at the flames.

 “Ah.” He speeded his pace to free them from their cell, smoke and soot starting to paint and took over the air. “Well, guess this is our clue to get going!! Come on, come on! This way!”

 “Fucking heck finally.” Remy only didn’t shout his displeasure due how hurt his throat was, however he made it sure his voice wasn’t low enough so the others wouldn’t be able to notice, even though none of them opted to point his reaction, deciding instead to nearly dash through the doors and stairs of the ship until finally arrive at the handrails, ignoring the way flames danced and deviated from them, a red figure smiling brightly at Patton’s direction when he waved, yellow eyes from another golden person staring them as if he could read their souls.

 Remy ignored both as another ship arrived, medium size, well conserved and barely noticeable, his eyes feeling the urge to look at everywhere except it every time he tried to concentrate his efforts to capture all the details, but he kept himself firm, noticing how it doesn’t own any visible treasure, the only thing more catching being the navy fog covering all its extent, flowing in abundance from the form in the main deck, his hands moving with precise, fast gestures.

 A dark purple ghost popped from absolutely nothing in front of them, inquisitive, wary glare.

 Remy narrowed his eyes back, his guts screaming to not trust the wooden board thrown at their current position, making a not very secure path from one ship to another. The purple being smirked at his expression.

 “V! We’re back.”

 “Good. The princey and the snake right there are almost over and Logan is growing restless. Remus is already on his room, resting.” His face lost its softness when he stared right back at the humans. “Get in. Fast.”

 Emile nodded, wanting nothing more than to leave this nightmare and maybe get a good night of sleep, but his arm was held in a warm, firm – yet gentle – grip.

 “Is that bitch even safe?”

 V’s smirk grew. “Define ‘safe’.”

 “Things that I can touch and embark without fucking dying.”

 “Death is inevitable,” the purple – V, as it seems, looked smug with his words, - any choice is just a pathway to this end.”

 “I’m going to fucking show him the pathway.”

 “Remy, please no.” Emile sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 “Think I can’t punch a motherfucker ghost? Fight me.”

 “I know you can’t. Bring it on.”

 “Virgil.”

 “Remy.”

 Patton and Emile said at the same time, with the same hard tone that made both of them deflate in a very similar way, still glaring dangerously at each other, but clearly putting more physical space between them. Emile patted the ex-captain hands, warm eyes.

 “Can you go first so I can hold on your cape? My balance is not very good.” Because he realized, somewhat, how he was trembling and that holding him was the one thing assuring Remy that none of this was just another crazy dream.

 He gulped, then nodded, his usual snarky remark already falling.

 “If I die, no offer will get me out of your back.”

 “Noted.” The sailor replied, chuckling lowly.

 And then they both walked to their first of many future nights, after so many tears and tears, of being able to watch the stars and feel the sea’s breeze.

 Safe.

[captainmeowvelwrites]

All You Knead Is Loave (a miraculous one-shot)

Pairing: Marinette x Adrien Genre: Romance Rating: K+ Words: 2805 Summary: With her clumsiness in full swing, Marinette trips and sends Tikki flying across the classroom. Thinking she's a doll, the ever-crafty Lila accuses Marinette of stealing her—but for a certain clued-up classmate, that just won’t do. (Adrienette reveal fic.)

ANs: Bonjour! This prompted one-shot was written for a one year anniversary event on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server! The prompt, courtesy of Squishysib on AO3, was:

Tikki is somehow revealed to the class, but the class thinks she’s a doll. This could be anything from Marinette tripping and she comes flying out of the purse, to Lila stealing her from Marinette’s bag and claims that Mari stole it from her. Either way Adrien sees Tikki and uses the braincell.

Thanks for the prompt, Sibby! Hope you all enjoy. :D

ALL YOU KNEAD IS LOAVE:

First, her pigtails took twenty-two minutes to come to terms with the concept of symmetry.

Then, she barrelled through the bakery, only for Sabine to point out her shirt was back to front.

Now, she found herself in the midst of another maladroit mistake.

Underestimating the height of a step.

The first step to her seat.

A seat that was conspicuously empty because she was late.

But oh, it didn't stop there.

No no no. The day was just getting started.

Because in that moment of supreme clumsiness, Tikki, who'd been snoozing in the aftermath of a late-night akuma, flew from Marinette's pink clutch.

Time slowed, and in a blur of red and black, the kwami sailed through the air.

Down, down, down.

Until she landed on the hardwood floor, near a pair of brown boots. With eras of practice under her figurative belt, Tikki went rigid in a nanosecond.

But like a fox, Lila pounced. "My doll!"

Marinette's eyes bulged as Lila swiped Tikki off the floor.

"This was a gift from Prince Ali on a trip to Achu," she cried, clutching Tikki to her chest. "I thought it fell out of my bag! I was SO heart-broken."

It was then that crafty eyes honed in on her.

"Why did you have it, Marinette?"

Gasps shook the air.

All eyes in the classroom whipped to her.

Marinette marched up to Lila's desk, her shoulders squared. "Because she's MY doll," she growled, "not yours!"

A two-second silence hung thick in the air.

Frantic chatter erupted. Her classmates spoke over each other, a flurry of questions and accusations flooding the room.

"Children! Children!" Miss Bustier cried over the commotion, holding her hands high. "Settle down, everyone. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for this."

"It's okay, everybody," Lila declared, cradling Tikki in her conniving clutches. "The last place I saw Cindy was Place des Vosges. That's right by her parents' bakery." Her lower lip quivered as she spared the still-frozen kwami a dramatic glance. "Maybe Marinette just found her and didn't know who she belonged to." She sent the fuming girl a shaky smile. "Right, Marinette?"

"No!" Marinette sliced a hand through the air. "No, that's NOT right at all! I've had her for over a year and—"

Lila gasped, pressing Tikki to her chest as if expecting Marinette to lunge. "You're not refusing to leave Cindy with her rightful owner, are you?"

"But, Lila, you're not the rightful owner."

Marinette's sights shifted left.

Because someone had shared that truth.

With startling certainty.

But that someone hadn't been her.

A wall of windows framed Adrien's body, spilling light across his golden hair like a literal halo of sunshine. The human embodiment of an angel, watching over her clumsy self. He stared down Lila, his jaw tight and his eyes ablaze. It was an expression she was well-acquainted with, though she'd only ever seen it in another pair of eyes, on another face, from another boy.

"Her name is Tikki and she belongs with Marinette."

Every cell in her body screeched to a halt.

"I know this because she's one half of a pair—"

He wasn't another boy!

"—and I just so happen to own the other doll."

Adrien reached beneath his white overshirt, revealing a black doll with green eyes and a wiry tail. Only, it wasn't a doll at all. It was an unmoving Plagg, right there in Adrien's palm.

In Chat Noir's palm.

Her Kitty.

Her Adrien.

The same person.

Currently sending her his softest smile, eyes creased and imploring and utterly heart-melting.

"Right, Marinette?"

Reality struck with the subtlety of a spaceship. She shook her head with whiplash-inducing suddenness. Or did she already have whiplash?

…

Chat Noir is Adrien!

…

His eyes flickered over her face and slowly, his smile sank. "Marinette?"

Wait.

She'd shaken her head.

That meant she disagreed.

But she didn't.

Because Adrien was right.

Marinette nodded like a bobblehead stuck in an earthquake, fixing her tragic faux pas.

…

Adrien is Chat Noir!

…

He stepped between her and Lila and held out an expectant hand, palm up and waiting. "Thanks, Lila," he chimed, as cool as a whole patch of cucumbers, "for returning Tikki to Marinette."

Lila's lips moved, spelling what were probably more lies. Marinette was too busy fighting the blaring MAYDAY in her brain. Adrien Agreste, her larger-than-life partner. Chat Noir, her angelic classmate and year-long crush.

And if his face showed his thoughts, each one was hidden; he stood between her and Lila, quiet as his hand inched closer to the latter. His fingers beckoned like a silent encouragement. Or a silent hurry up.

A nerve twitched in Lila's temple, and Marinette's mouth fell open as Lila reluctantly placed Tikki—poor Tikki, stuck in a pose that looked awfully uncomfortable—into Adrien's awaiting palm. His fingers curled around her kwami like she was a living thing.

Because she was.

She was and Adrien knew it.

Just like he knew she was Ladybug.

He… knew she was…

"I'm so sorry, Adrien!" Lila threw both hands to her lips. "You too, Marinette. I don't know what came over me. My rare disease must be acting up again!"

Marinette's lips parted.

Some sort of strangled sound escaped them.

She should've just kept quiet.

"It's all right." A smile lined Adrien's voice. The same voice that delivered silly puns, cheesy one-liners and words of affirmation, all behind a black, leather mask. "If you'd like a referral for a great doctor, I can ask Father for some recommendations."

"Wow!" Lila pressed her palms together, flaunting a sickeningly sweet grin. "That's so nice of you, Adrien. I might just take you up on that!"

"No problem." But as he faced Marinette, she was eighty five percent sure she glimpsed the tail end of a grimace. Then, their eyes met, and his wrinkled with a smile, glistening green like dew-dusted fields, like early spring, like Chat Noir's.

Adrien stepped closer and held out his hand, Tikki stiff in his palm.

Marinette stared. She stared at his hand. She stared at Tikki. She stared at the shine of silver around his ring finger.

Marinette "Staring" Dupain-Cheng.

That was her name now—

A cough cut through the air. It sounded suspiciously like Alya.

But something else yanked her back to reality.

A warmth around her hand.

His gloveless fingers curled around hers, placing Tikki in her trembling grasp.

Trembling because he was her partner, her kitty…

And he knew it too.

Adrien guided her hand to her chest. "She's back where she belongs." His touch was tender, so very warm, and dare she think, loving. "With you, Mariboo."

Marinette's eyes blew wide. Her face was an actual sun, her heart a pounding conga drum, and by the way her jaw slackened, words were a foreign concept.

Adrien pressed a palm to her forehead, and she went stiff as a mannequin. "Excuse me, Miss Bustier? I think Marinette's running a fever." No, but give her five seconds and good God, she might be.

"No no no!" She peeled his palm away. "I am totally—"

One wink from her kitty.

"—uhh – in need of a qualified ice pack! I mean nurse!" She offered an affirmative nod. "Yes. A qualified nurse. Who can give me an ice pack. For my forehead. Which is on fire."

Adrien turned back to the teacher. "May I please have your permission to walk her to the nurse's office?"

"You're both excused," said Miss Bustier, beaming from the front of the classroom. "Take care, Marinette."

"I'm sure he will!" Marinette lurched ramrod straight. "I mean, I'm sure I will. Take care. So much care." She showed a double thumbs up. "And so will Chadrien—dah!—Adrien. Of me. He will take so much care of me."

From the corner of her eye, a hand appeared on her shoulder.

"Thanks, Miss Bustier!"

Even through her black blazer, the heat of his hand radiated as he guided her out of the classroom and into the sunny spring air.

It wasn't until they reached a quiet corner of the courtyard that Marinette realised three things:

She'd eyeballed his hand since its arrival on her shoulder.

Two hands now held her shoulders in place of one.

Both hands were trembling.

Marinette gazed at the boy before her. His eyes – the same eyes that glowed green during late-night patrols – pored over every inch of her face.

And finally, they found her own.

Gradually, his lips parted—

"I expect one heaping pile of cheese after THAT whole charade!"

Plagg emerged between them, a crease on his forehead and his tiny arms crossed.

It was then, as Tikki flew from her palm to hover near her shoulder, that Marinette realised she'd spent that whole time laying comatose in her hand. "Plagg," her kwami growled, hands on her hips, "they were about to have a moment!"

"So whaaat?" Plagg flicked a dismissive hand, suspended mid-air as though splayed across a sunlounger. "The cat's outta the bag! They have all the time in the WORLD to have more moments." He flipped upside down. "Besides, being a doll really worked up my appeti—"

Tikki fired him one of the fiercest glares Marinette had ever seen. And not just from her kwami.

Plagg righted himself, ears flattening. "Err – What I meant to say is that YOU must be starving, Sugar Cube." She shoved her nose to the cloudless sky with a little harumph, so he zoomed to her side. "You stayed still for SO long. It was very impurressive!"

Marinette pursed her lips. Apparently, Plagg cat punned too. "I'm so sorry for this whole mess, Tikki." Her kwami's face brightened as she held up a pink macaron. "Tomorrow, I'll be sure to bake you a whole batch of these little guys!"

Meanwhile, Adrien tossed a wedge of camembert in the air. "And I'll be sure to order an entire box of Pont l'Eveque," he promised, as Plagg downed the wedge in one gulp. "Just for you, buddy."

Plagg rubbed his belly and burped. "It's a start, I suppose."

"So," Adrien said, sights settling on her, "now I know you're a baker's daughter." His eyes gleamed. "I'd batter get a batch of puns in the oven, huh?"

Yup. That was her silly kitty, all right.

A giggle escaped her. "As long as your puns aren't stale," she countered, complete with a cheeky grin.

With gentle fingers and a gentler smile, he looped a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only the freshest for you, Mariboo."

Heat flamed up her face as she gawped at him, speechless.

Was he—

Was she—

Were they flirting?

Adrien bolted upright. "S-Sorry!" He rubbed the nape of his neck. "Old habits pie hard, I guess."

Marinette blinked at him.

Once.

Twice.

Finally, she made words happen.

"N-N-No!"

Kind of.

With a clear of her throat, Marinette tried again. "No, it's okay, Adrien." She reached for his hands, hearing his soft gasp as her skin brushed his. "I loave your puns."

His lips quirked up.

"You wouldn't be you without them." She threaded their fingers, free of leather and latex. He was so, so warm. "And thank you, Kitty," she breathed, giving his hands the lightest squeeze, "for all your help back there."

"Of course, M'Lady." Her heart fluttered, first at the title, then at the way he squeezed her hands right back. "You and me against the world, right?"

"Always."

A soft smile painted his lips.

It was so Adrien.

So Chat Noir.

So him—

"Y'know," he whispered, his voice feather light, "I could glaze into your eyes all day."

The sentiment of those words shone true in his own and before she knew it, Marinette was bringing her lips up to his. It was a light kiss. A quick kiss. Too sudden to let herself tremble. Too sudden to let him return it. Even as she pulled back, the warmth of his lips lingered on hers like an irrefutable fact.

She'd just kissed Adrien Agreste.

His mouth popped open, closed, open again.

Apparently, her kiss had turned him into a goldfish.

Oh God.

No no no no no.

Nerves exploded in her chest.

Had she misread his cute comment?

Marinette leapt back. "Sorry! Sorry! I am SO sorry!" She clutched her scalp in both hands and started to pace. "I – I thought— I mean, you were just so sweet and I—"

Adrien sprung forward to grip her elbow. "Date!" He slapped that same hand to his chest, panic flashing in his eyes. "I mean, would you like to date me?" One shake of his head. "No. Uh. Go on a date with me?" He kneaded his temples. "Which might lead to dating. If you'd like. But if not, that's fine too. There's still that boy and you—"

Marinette cut him off with a laugh of relief. “Silly cat.” She re-tangled her fingers with his, peering up at him through full lashes. “You ARE the boy”—oh, the irony—"and you always HAVE been.”

Adrien gaped, once again embracing his inner-fish. “I… I am?”

Chewing her lip, she nodded—slowly but surely.

In the moments that followed, his look of sheer shock transformed into unbridled joy. He leaned in close, their hands weaved together, and oh, she could definitely get used to this. "So, Marinette, what would you say if you and I met up tonight for a little dinner? Rooftop style?"

"I'd say that sounds purrfect."

Just like the sunshine smile that brightened his face in that moment.

She might've booped his adorable nose, had his hands not been so warm, so soft, so perfect in hers. Instead, she traced a thumb up the side of his hand, and her heart thrummed as he did it right back.

"Marinette?" Adrien's gaze flicked from her to his feet and back again. "Now that we're on the same page"—the tips of his ears flushed pink—"I'd loave to kiss you again… if you have dough complaints—"

Marinette moved onto her tiptoes and answered with her lips on his.

And this time, he kissed back. Lightly. Nervously. Perfectly imperfect.

One brush of his lips. Their noses bumped. They shared an awkward laugh and an angle readjustment; then, their lips reunited like two pieces of a puzzle, melding as wonderfully as his hands in hers.

Those same hands left her own, and her lips stilled on his. Until his arms stuttered around her. Inched her closer. Hesitated. She slid her hands through his golden locks, softer than mulberry silk. Her pulse fluttered as he melted against her, the delicious aroma of cologne filling her senses. Sweet. Spicy. Dizzying.

Like a budding artist to white canvas, each brush of their lips came more surely than the last—

A whiny groan had them springing apart. "Humans show affection in the most DISGUSTING of ways," Plagg droned, sticking out his pink tongue.

Marinette assumed the shade and heat of a chili. She jerked to throw her hands over her eyes, but as she glimpsed Adrien's endearing expression, they stopped just shy of her face. He'd revealed the most adorable of pouts and dawww, her poor heart was about ready to burst.

"Pla-Plagg," Adrien sputtered, and she imagined his tail going straight as a sabre. "That – That was our"—he hesitated, counting on his fingers—"fourth kiss you just interrupted!"

Plagg snorted. "Yeah, and I'm sure there'll be plenty more where THAT came from."

Tikki shot Plagg a scowl.

He whipped behind Adrien, peeking over his shoulder.

With a heart-stuttering smile, Adrien recouped his composure like a stumbling runway model, a blunder she knew for a fact he'd never done. He ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair and God, he sure looked like her kitty now. "Guess Plagg had better get used to the kisses"—he took her hands in his, his eyes twinkling—"because yours are unfurgettable."

"Except for the first two times when they weren't—"

"Plagg!" Adrien's pout returned with a vengeance. His red-tipped ears, twice as much.

Through a giggle, Marinette squeezed his hands. "Magic notwithstanding," she said, and placed a reassuring peck on his cheeks. "And back cat ya, my kitty."

Adrien's eyes went wide as a chasm, that pawsitively adorable blush creeping down his ears to his cheeks. Soon, his face softened, and a dreamy sigh slid from his lips. "I love when mew call me that."

First, her pigtails had taken twenty-two minutes to come to terms with the concept of symmetry.

Then, she'd barrelled through the bakery, only for Sabine to point out her shirt was back to front.

After, she'd tripped on a step and nearly lost her poor kwami to Lila.

But now, here she was, hand-in-hand with her friend, her partner, the love of her life.

And with their first date tonight, the day was just getting started.

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Two Gods, One Braincell

Kagami goes on a self-imposed quest to save a terrible place from meeting its timely demise.

Chapter 1: Here There Be Dragons

Summary:

Now leaving heaven:

A cat has joined your party.

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

Kagami rolled among the clouds, riding the jet streams of the upper sky. Her long snake-like body glinted scarlet and gold in the late afternoon sun. The wind whipping against her mane and whiskers and antlers. She held her four claws close to her side and closed her eyes.

"Having fun?"

Snapping open, Kagami's slitted pupils tracked the source of the voice. A shadow leapt across the fluffy clouds, stark against their color; keeping up with her despite her speed.

Ah, him. Relaxing, she allowed herself a grin before suddenly twisting straight down. The cat let out a yelp as he overshot his mark, quickly following her to the earth.

Keeping one eye on the cat Kagami sought the cover of forest. Shifting into mortal form as soon as she was hidden in the leaves. There she waited.

And not long. Kagami's keen ears heard him shifting as he landed on the forest floor. Had she been any other he would be as silent as a cat. But she was a dragon.

"Ka-ga-mi!" He sing-songed, voice echoing so that if she did not have him in sight she would not know where it came.

Her fingers twitched impatiently as he stepped closer. She forced them still. More than one of her ambushes had been exposed because of her fidgeting. He came nearer. One more... One more... Now!

Kagami leapt from her hiding place and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen in surprise before they tumbled to the ground.

"Ah, hello to you too," Adrien grunted. He wore black robes in the style of the western gods.

In her scarlet kimono (which would be very restrictive for a mortal) Kagami sat on him. "This marks my twelve thousand four hundred and fifty second win to your twelve thousand four hundred and twenty-three."

"Yes, yes, very impressive, I can't breathe!"

"Don't be so dramatic," Kagami replied without the barest hint of irony. Still, she rose off of her fellow deity. "You know we don't need to breathe."

" 'Don't be so dramatic,' says the dragon" Adrien muttered, cleaning himself off as he stood up. "Tackles me to the ground, goes running off without a word, leaves me to deal with-"

"You mean like all the times I bailed you out after you did something stupid?"

"Name one stupid thing I've done!"

Before Kagami could begin listing the long, long, long, long line of dumb ideas Adrien's had since Creation itself he cut her off.

"This century!"

Cheater. Well, at least it was a good one. Kagami grinned smugly. "You made Marinette mad at you."

Red bloomed on Adrien's cheeks as he spluttered a reply. "You said you wouldn't bring that up again!"

"I did no such thing." Kagami turned smartly away from him and began walking. "You begged me not to mention it and I said I'd consider it."

"Oh, very clever," Adrien replied sarcastically, following.

"Thank you."

"Anyways, what're you doing out here?"

A demon burst out of the foliage and charged at them. Alerted by their bickering, the brute brandished a club overhead. Saliva dripping from its tusks, maw towering over them.

Kagami shifted. Thunder roared from her mouth lined with sharp teeth. Claws like swords, scales like fire in the lengthening shadows. Long, muscular body dwarfing her opponent's. Narrowed eyes promising a quick end.

The demon dropped its club and ran, letting out frightened squeals.

Adrien held his palm up, shadows coalescing into a sphere of pure darkness. Casually, he tossed it at the retreating demon. "You didn't answer my question."

The demon collapsed as the orb of shadow struck it square in the back. A rabbit sprinting away from where it fell.

Still in dragon form Kagami picked up the crude club with two talons like it was a baby mortal's diaper, snout wrinkling in distaste. "Have all smiths vanished from among the demons?" She tossed the so-called weapon aside. "I remember them being much more of a challenge."

Adrien puffed out his chest. "Your welcome."

Kagami snorted, shifting back into mortal form. "We could have left them a sword at least."

"You didn't answer my question," Adrien pointed out.

"Did I not?" Kagami asked innocently. Or rather tried to. Adrien often pointed out that she was far too honest to lie properly.

"Please, don't let this dragon!" Adrien grinned.

She wasn't smiling. No, her lips did not twitch upwards. "That was terrible."

"Well, sorry that I've had a long flight!"

"Wrong language."

"It was ryu-ly tiring!"

Kagami whirled on Adrien and put a hand over his smirking face. "Stop!" She would not be bested by second class material!

"Mm tho enn u the mm at nno!" Adrien mumbled through her fingers.

His breath tickled so she pulled her hand away. "What?"

"Ah! I said, I'll stop when you tell me what I wanna know." Adrien rubbed his nose in a way Kagami could only describe as cat-like.

Shaking the distracting thought from her head, Kagami focused on what had brought her out here in the first place. "There is a city that's been cursed with drought."

Adrien stiffened. "O-oh?"

"It's been a year. Their reserves are almost gone." Kagami quickened her pace as she thought about what would happen to all those mortals if they didn't get rain soon. "The council won't do anything! They just sit there and 'pass judgment'. Which really means doing nothing! What good are they if-"

"It wasn't a council matter."

Kagami paused. Turning, she saw Adrien fidgeting nervously. "... What did you do?"

"Why does it have to be something I did?" Adrien asked defensively.

"Was it?" Kagami demanded, peering straight into Adrien's eyes.

"Okay, fine! I cursed the city! There, are you happy?"

"You gave an entire city drought!?"

"No, of course not!"

"Adrien," Kagami walked up to him and, ignoring the height he had on her, pinned him to a tree with her arm. "What was the wording exactly."

"May you reap what you sow."

A chill went down her spine and she dropped her arm. A curse like that... Rumors, deceptions, lies. They were all seeds of nothing. And apparently the curse decided the best way to reap nothing was to make sure nothing grew.

She sighed. "A year. They had a year to break the curse themselves." A growl of annoyance grew in her throat and Kagami shifted to better indulge the urge.

Adrien shifted into his great cat form, shoulders level with hers, and bumped against her scales. "How did you find out about them anyway?"

"I heard someone pray for them."

"Ah."

Kagami didn't need to ask what they'd done. It was all semantics. All that mattered was that most of them had learned nothing from it. And yet... "How did they attract your attention?"

His slitted eyes narrowed further as shadow black fur bristled. "They desecrated the hall of judgment."

Kagami's mane rose as her whiskers trembled. The hall of judgment was both court of law and temple to justice. If any god besides Adrien had stumbled onto them... They were exceedingly lucky misfortune was all they suffered. "Morons."

"Extremely," Adrien agreed, pressing his giant, warm, feline body closer and purring.

"They do not deserve my help," Kagami declared, laying down and curling her tail around Adrien.

"Nope," he followed her example and stretched out on the leaves covering the forest floor. "But you're gonna help anyways, aren't you."

"Obviously." Kagami turned her long, serpentine neck so she could rub her muzzle against Adrien's.

No mortal would have been able to read how Adrien's face softened while in his current form. "I love that you're so kind."

"You're forgetting about that fleet I turned into driftwood."

"Bragging about your exploits does not diminish the compassion you feel for others. And that armada had it coming."

If Kagami was still in her mortal form she would have blushed. Thankfully, that was physically impossible for dragons. Instead she touched the tip of her nose with Adrien's. "You'll help me?"

"If you need it," he acknowledged easily. "One little curse should be no match for your storms."

"Your curses are hardly that simple, Adrien." His tail flicked happily, as though she'd given him a great compliment. Kagami knew he disliked using his curses cavalierly but like any god Adrien took pride in his work.

"Then we should get going." He stood and stretched like an overgrown housecat. "Traveling in the lower world takes so long when you don't have Max with you."

"I hope that wasn't another pun."

"If I'm feline punny what business is that of yours?"

In response Kagami took off. Letting the wind she summoned buffet Adrien; his protests following her as he leapt into the air. Her laughter booming like thunder as they raced across the sky.

Notes:

@kagamiappreciationweek2020 Written for Kagami Appreciation Week 2020. (The accuracy of the title is yet to be determined.) Is this all going to be self-indulgent nonsense? I mean, yeah, probably.

[icanbehardcore]

Top 10 WORST Powerpuff Girls Episodes

For a long time, I have been wanting to make a project resembling a countdown list, being inspired by the likes of @umbramagna777​, @phantomstrider​ and even the Nostalgia Critic. After some considerate years, I have finally decided to make a list based on my all time favorite show The Powerpuff Girls.

Cartoon Network's breakaway hit of the late 90s and early to mid 00s starring three adorable, precocious little kindergartners with superpowers was a cultural phenomenon. Spawning hundreds and thousands of merchandise, a theatrical film, several TV specials, an anime and a reboot, it's unbelievable that a cartoon with an all female lead would become an icon in the cartoon industry.

Created by Craig McCracken fresh off two pilots in the "What A Cartoon" shorts and evolving from the earliest incarnation "Whoopass Stew", The Powerpuff Girls became the highest rated cartoon debut at the time. Critics praised this show for being so unique, entertaining, epic, action packed and nothing like anything else at the time, but most of all, this show was very, very funny.

But that doesn't mean this show gets all the glory and praise 100% per episode, like every television show, there will always be flaws and bad episodes and, the Powerpuff Girls is no exception when it comes to rotten entries in the line-up.

Whether you like these episodes or not, remember to respect each other's opinions, including mine. If you like these episodes, that's great, you're more than welcome to have your say, but be nice.

I am only counting down episodes from the ORIGINAL series, this won't include the movie, the anime, the Dance Pansted special, The tenth anniversary special, the christmas special or especially the reboot.

Mixing either of these up would be one big mess and would derail my points of view. With that being said, let's begin.

NOTE: Spoiler alert ahead.

 10. Keen on Keane   This episode was a new era for the original show, it had a new art style which was first introduced in the movie. So if you hadn't seen it, you would have had to get use to this new art style before getting puzzled or confused.

Unfortunately, these episodes were somewhat mediocre and after 2002, show creator Craig McCracken left the show to Chris Savino, so he could work on Foster's Home for Imaginery Friends. Usually when this happens, that's a sign of a show losing it's...err...Mojo. No pun intended. For a first of this newly animated version of the show, this episode is just ...well...sappy.  

So what's the story: It's Valentines Day...oh boy, what a way to start the new era of an already great show. I am NOT a fan of this holiday whether I'm taken or not. I prefer to keep romance and affection personal.

While receiving various little Valentines from her beloved students, Ms. Keane gets the one simple innocent question asked by the girls: "Where are you going out tonight?" and "Who's your sweetheart?" (don't you just love precocious little questions coming from kindergartners). Ms. Keane explains to the girls that she doesn't have time for going out on dates and is too busy for that sort of thing, this leaves the girls slightly worried, knowing she may be lonely and in need of a significant other half.

Later that evening, the girls are all at dinner with the Professor whose attention prompts the innocent, curious little question from an inquisitive Blossom "Why aren't you going out, tonight?".

Personally, if he WAS going out, he may need to hire a babysitter for the girls and knowing the Professor, he may end up calling someone but being delayed or on hold due to everybody with their arms round each other, making googoo eyes and lip wrestling all evening as they bask into their romance.

Anyway, the Professor tells the girls that HE doesn't have time for dates or going out, nor does he have a sweetheart...(hope he hasn't forgotten the events a long time ago when meeting Ima Goodlady who turned out to be using him and was revealed to be Sedusa).

On hearing this, the girls trade rather sly and calculating looks to each other, a plan has hit them. If their father isn't going out and doesn't have a sweetheart and Ms Keane doesn't have a sweetheart, why not get them together for date?

At Ms. Keane's place, she is busy grading homework. On hearing the doorbell ring, she goes to answer the door only to recieve a love letter from a secret admirer and a rose. Oh bittersweet cliches...

Round the same time, the Professor too recieves an identical love letter from a secret admirer (by the way, I do love how he recieves a red rose and Ms Keane recieves a pink rose).  The two admirers meet at "Petes-A Pizza", an obvious parody to Chuck E Cheese, you can just feel how out of place these two are.

Not to hurt each others feelings, the two adults try to strike a conversation, but seem to show no interest in each other, all they can do is slap on a plastic smile each.

As they try to communicate and interact more and order, Ms. Keane suddenly forces a hearty little smile, stunning and questioning the Professor. As she tells him to look behind him, he sees that his own daughters are hiding in the large ball tank, this catches on as both Ms Keane and Professor Utonium have realized that they had been set up.

Unfortunately, the evening was unsuccessful and the Professor offers his date a ride home with three dejected little girls in the back. Their high hopes sunk to the bottom, gone down like a ship, but the Professor tells them if they did end up going out, then he wouldn't have enough time to spend with his own daughters. As he walks her to her door, Ms. Keane trips on a crack, the Professor immediately dashes forward to catch her. After bewilderment and indecision on what to do next, Ms Keane and the Professor's hearts become intertwine. As they stand up straight, they both share a nervous laugh while blushing (by the way, I find this scene amazingly cute, I mean...the Professor here is just...OMG, how can you not just want to reach out and dive into his arms...ahem...).  Finally,  they hold hands and are somehow...in love. Also note this is the only time in the episode where they see each other  face to face. Feeling accomplished, the girls smile knowing that their mission is complete . The following morning, the girls notice that not everything is all hunky-dory! Now having a significant other half, the Professor neglects his family duties and lab work and Ms Keane neglecting her school duties and even forgetting to feed her cat. Why? Because the two most important role models in the girls' lives are now sickeningly sweethearts talking to each other endlessly on the phone together, complete with EVERY single sentence ending with a mushy pet name. And you know what? It's really degrading! Also that phonebill must be really expensive by now,

Because of the neglection, the girls don't know what crimes are being caused....seriously, not even watching the news? Also, doesn't Ms Bellum have a light for a signal? Why couldn't she  just set that up in the sky for them?

But no! Instead, Sara Bellum gets kidnapped while the conversation continues until the Mayor sneezes, causing the couple to realize that they were holding up phoneline and neglecting their duties, including feeding the cat. This upsets the Professor and complains about the past event where a cat made him jump off a building which somehow, Ms Keane doesn't believe and causes them both to suddenly break up. Hmm...like every other couple today right? Okay that was bad.

Overall, this was a weak episode with no crime fighting at all and for a new start of upgraded animation, this was pretty bad. Especially being a Valentines themed episode.

9. City of Clipsville  I ought to let you know that seasons five and six sucked. Big time and this episode is no exception. I am not much of a fan of clip shows and this one was really weak, lame and the repetitive dialogue is as entertaining as a stale book made for toddlers. "Remember when Mojo Jojo turned us into dogs?"...umm...yeah? There's like two episodes with pretty much the same chunks of animation of it and it doesn't help that they referenced BOTH episodes! Also, did we really want to be reminded of some of the more mediocre episodes?

Mind you, most of these little trips down memory lane never happened. These include The Professor marrying Ms Bellum...for some reason, the girls losing their superpowers without realizing until they fall off a building...the Professor turning the girls AND all of Townsville's citizens into helpless infants...(no, seriously...make way for cliche'd moments whenever a baby is in a cartoon, which I'll get to later), complete with Blossom spitting up over the Professor's shoulder.

BUT the most most shameful fan-service cringe-worthy moment would have to be a quote on quote flashback of when the girls sped up time and became teenagers. Oh my god! Just...yeah. Complete with their midriff showing, slender figures, skinny jeans and stereotypical valley girl accents and mannerisms such as blowing bubble gum talking on their cellphones and ...discovering boys, teenage boys...in this case, the Rowdyruff Boys.

Yeah...remember when I said that the whole counterpart thing is a drag, well they do it here too. But this time, they are somewhat getting along, yet the girls are ditzier. I do love some of the hidden innuendos snuck in this scene visually and audibly.

Besides this episode being a weak one, I do admit that I like how the girls looked as teenagers, a bit two fan-service material-esque but still cute. I love how Bubbles still kept her pigtails in, but are a little longer, Blossom's red hair still makes me jealous *seriously...) and Buttercup growing out that little bob, it suits her.

Of course, I can't mention this scene without the fact that it was a reference to Craig McCracken's fan mail he was  receiving from fans about what would happen if the girls and boys were couples. He hated the idea so he decided to poke fun at this little trope.

Interestingly, there was going to be a scene that never made it, but there were storyboards lying around of the teenage girls becoming popstars...obviously a reference to the likes of Mandy Moore, Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera and other teen idols, maybe even the lesser known band that have since broke up, No Secrets.

The episode gets more stupid as everyone somehow ends up in the house until the episode ends which turns out to be filmed in front of a "live audience". Yeah, just...weak.

If you do like this episode, that's great, it does have a few funny moments but I still feel like it's just another cheap bland clip show.  

8. Neighbor Hood Good god was this episode lame? The moral was a good one I will admit, but first, the story...Bubbles rushes home from school in time to watch her favorite show: The Wondrous World of Whimsical Willy. Mr. Willy being the host of the show (and an obvious parody of Mr, Rogers) greets his audience warmly, at first, he seems like the typical friendly, harmless, yet unsettling kind of person on a kid's show. He never snaps, he's calm and mellow. But when Daydream Lane loses all of the happiness and joy, Mr Willy asks his audience to hand over all of their cash to him so they don't lose hope.

Being naive and simple, not wanting the show to fall flat with misery, Bubbles somehow breaks into the town hall and takes off with the money in the Mayor's vault and hands it over to Mr Willy and the rest of the crew on set. By the way, the Mayor also donated...yeah, he's a man child. lol

Meanwhile, back at home, after getting a phone call from the Mayor, Buttercup and Blossom notice their sister live on TV with a huge bag of money, thanking Bubbles, Mr Willy and his gang celebrate until Bubbles' sisters barge in telling Mr Willy to literally drop his act.

Sweaty and nervous, Mr Willy finally snaps and reveals his true plan to steal all of the money of Townsville, showing his true colors at last. Bubbles demands an explanation and tells her sisters that Mr. Willy isn't a crook, he just needed the money to help save Daydream Lane. Blossom isn't buying it and tells Bubbles that none of this is real and that the whole set is just canvas painted with scenery and backgrounds and the crew are all crooks in costume.

Now shocked and realizing she had been conned along with the rest of the those who donated, Bubbles loses faith in Mr Willy and the show and even refuses to save his fall. In case you might guess, Mr Willy is arrested and thrown in prison and Bubbles apologizes for her foolish act and also that she shouldn't believe on what she sees on television. In a way, this is a great moral for kids, especially when the main cast are kindergartners, but come on, the girls are more precocious than this, they are better than this. This is basically a weaker version of Film Flam.

This episode is really unsettling for many reasons.  Mr Willy asking for donations from little kids, isn't that a little creepy and somewhat makes him a pedophile? But to go as far as flying all the way to the set on your own and revealing the stolen cash is even more risky and dangerous.

I have read something interesting here from the PPG wikia, this episode was based real-life events in a 1965 New Year incident where Soupy Sales, miffed at having to work on the holiday, ended his live broadcast by encouraging his young viewers to tiptoe into their still-sleeping parents' bedrooms and remove those "funny green pieces of paper with pictures of U.S. Presidents" from their pants and pocketbooks. "Put them in an envelope and mail them to me," Soupy instructed the children. "And I'll send you a postcard from Puerto Rico!" He was then hit with a pie. He later admitted that he was joking and that the money would be donated to a charity, but Sales was negatively affected by the incident.

Also I learned that this episode was actually written back in 1999 as a season 2 episode, but was scrapped since the staff feared a lawsuit from PBS, so instead the story was given to DC Comics named Remote Controlled. The story was much better and less mediocre compared to this one. It's such a downfall when a great cartoon runs it's course and episodes that were originally written for the comics suddenly have elements thrown onto the screen and never live up to how they could have been.

There's something else I would like to point out here. I saw this comment on the PPG wikia by a user named Crossoverfan4ever and he pointed out that Bubbles commited a crime and got away with it, and did she get punished? Of course not, because she's, cute, innocent adorable, precious, sweet little Bubbles who can probably get away with murder if she tried.

So...in A Very Special Blossom, Blossom steals a rather valuable set of golf clubs and gets punished for it with 200 hours of community service, yet the Professor asks the cops to go easy on her and she's also sorry (seriously, you can feel her sorrow in her voice and that face just says it all).

In the fan-loathing controversial episode Moral Decay, Buttercup commits a crime by breaking into the local villains homes and steals their teeth for money from the "tooth fairy" after already beating up crooks for committing crimes. Her punishment: Ambushed by her worst enemies as her sisters sadistically watch her get beat up (note that Buttercup is a little girl, so can you imagine the pain inflicted on her?). Going back to Neighbor Hood, yeah, it's bad. One of season five's worst.

7. Crazy Mixed-Up Puffs

Season six was definitely the weakest link in the original show's run, so in a way, it's a breath of fresh air when McCracken and Savino declined a season seven from Cartoon Network (much to the disappointment to the fans).

CMUP just made way for some really weak points in writing and character development and derailment. Whichever one, even my feelings for this are mixed up...or mesed up. Whatever!  

In this episode, Mojo Jojo is watching old clips of the past fights and battles he has had with the girls and soon stops for an ice cream break. Unforunately, a little girl is in front of him and he deters her. As Mojo orders his three scoops (which happen to resemble the signature colors of the Powerpuff Girls), the little girl throws her ball at him, causing him to drop the ice cream onto the floor. As it does, Mojo gets an idea.

Mojo then goes home to his lair and creates a dummy of a girl calling for help, attracting attention from the Powerpuff Girls, they fly over to save her and are immediately caught in his trap.

The machine swirls the girls together, fusing them all into one and because of this, the girls find it hard to fly, spin and even keep their own balance, not to mention worsening their arguments every single time. It's really unpleasant to watch.

From here, the girls  now have to rely on each other with trust and work as a team to stop Mojo. After finally making their way to Mojo, they defeat him, destroying the fuse machine with a huge blast, but are still stuck together as one.

As they make their way back to the Mayor's office, they get Professor Utonium to try and seperate them. Feeling hopeless, the Professor breaks down into tears knowing that his daughters will never be the same, but they tell him that they don't mind being this close and reassure him that everything is going to be okay. The Mayor finds a thread from their fused dresses and pulls it which somehow...separates the girls restoring them to their glory. I do love when the Professor tells the girls that he loves them all, it's moments like this that always make the show great, it's too bad this episode suffered from mediocicy, unpleasant arguments and...this (Really? After all you've been through, you decide to add this in here?) NOTE: Never let Paul Stec or someone else write a Powerpuff Girls episode storyline which may result into tasteless immature fart jokes...speaking of which...

6. Reeking Havoc Season six...why? Why did you have to go with this crap? An entire episode about flatulence? Really? Okay, well silently but still visually. I for one don't care for this kind of humor, it's immature, lame, not funny, pointless and...just go watch South Park if you're into that stuff (by the way, I'm a huge fan of South Park, freakin' ironic I know! lol).

The Girls have just returned home from enjoying a beautiful sunny day in spring, admiring the fresh air until their noses are suddenly inflicted with the smell of something ...not so fresh, in this case, chili. Yep! Because how else are the writers going to come up with an episode which is ten minutes of fart jokes. Real mature. Not.

It turns out that the girls father Professor Utonium is cooking this...chili for the "2nd Annual Chili Cook-Off" in Townsville. The girls reluctantly try a sample, as expected by them and those watching, it doesn't go down well (we even see a shot of Buttercup losing it in the waste-bin). Worried that he may lose again, Blossom decides that they should tell the Professor, but her sisters object due to the year before, in which the Professor lost and broke down.

Later that night, the Professor still thinks his chili needs something extra...or should that be "x-tra"...with that, he adds a drop of Chemical X into the concoction. Sure, because somehow that works right? Also, maybe adding COFFEE into the chili is the reason it doesn't taste so good. Later on that night, the girls (one by one) also happen to put a drop of Chemical X in the chili.

The following morning during the annual chili contest, the judges (which happen to be Ms Keane, the Mayor and Sara Bellum) are trying out all the dishes that have been made for the event when soon, they try the Professor's chilli causing reactions that they never experienced before. With that, the Professor is declared the winner of the contest and is awarded the trophy and with that, the Mayor hands out free samples of the prize winning chilli.

What then follows is nothing but flatulent puns, visual and audible, one after the other while everyone's guts start growling and all that gas happens to escape and creates...a giant methane monster. No, seriously! A giant cloud made out of everyone's gas! What were the writers thinking, seriously? It's like they have watched Ren and Stimpy and got some ideas off there, no? 

The following day, the methane monster soon causes chaos all over Townsville and his stench is so unbearable that it causes everyone to feel nauseous and complain. This then causes the Mayor to call the girls and...*sighs*...watching them trying to fight off a huge flatulent monster is just...well...yeah. Lame.  

As if stinking up the city has already been done in season 2's Down and Dirty, but that as caused by Buttercup refusing to bathe, but nope, we get a full on episode with gastronomical proportions and bad jokes!

From here, we get some rather ridiculously stomach churning moments including the girls actually trying to suck the monster up...err...gross? So...after the mention of a "match", Blossom gets an idea and takes off and returns again in seconds with...a giant match...no seriously AND to make this episode even more cringy, she mentions that she got it from the same place where she got the giant jar in "episode two season one". Was that really necessary?

I don't wanna go on since its pretty cliche'd with the fact that entering a chili cook-off with an ingredient that happens to be linked to chaos, it's obvious what that equals.

This was a bad episode and I mean really really bad. GOLDEN RULE: Keep fart jokes off this show! Oh wait...the reboot pushed that further! *sighs*

5. Gettin' Twiggy With It Consider this the Pet Sitter Pat episode of The Powerpuff Girls. Nearly every character in this show is likable, funny, great, relatable and somehwhat a decent role model. All but one...that being a less major character: the girls class mate Mitch Mitchellson. A sadistic, nasty, evil, selfish, greedy, manipulative  child who takes pleasure in bullying his fellow...ahem...classmates. Think of him as the Nelson Muntz of Townsville. Think of him as Ren Hoek off Ren Seeks Help in Ren and Stimpy Adult Party Cartoon, or maybe even Stewie Griffin. In this episode, it's Friday and that means one of the kids has the responsibility of taking the class hamster Twiggy home. The girls volunteer, but somehow Ms. Keane chooses Mitch to look after her.

This episode is legimately painful to watch in my opinion. As an animal lover (especially hamsters) who hates animal cruelty to a degree couldn't even watch this. It isn't funny, isn't a pleasure to watch, it's just sick, twisted and evil, I'm glad though that the episode itslef wasn't treated as comedic, that would make me up this episode straight to number one in my opinion. Mitch apparently says he never owned a pet before, yet you can clearly see that he has a snake in the background, what the hell?

I like how when Twiggy becomes a vicious monster, the girls do their part to save him, but still teach him a lesson in harming little Twiggy. It's rare for an episode to be played out seriously for the most part, yet this is just so difficult to watch. Especially all the ways Mitch tortures the hamster.

Gettin' Twiggy With It is just nasty and an unwatchable episode. It's unpleasant, demented and just uncomfortable to watch. For a better review on this episode, I suggest reading this: https://www.deviantart.com/regulas314/art/1001-Animations-Gettin-Twiggy-With-It-517452789. He does great reviews and provides decent detail.

Overall, Mitch Mitchellson is hands down my most despised character in The Powerpuff Girls, maybe even worse than Princess Morbucks. And that's saying a lot. 

4. Girls Gone Mild I don't think there's one countdown of top ten worst PPG without this episode at least appearing on there. It's bad, the story, the premise, the fact that this episode was inspired by letters Craig McCracken received from parents thinking the violence was appropriate as a defence, pretty much the Three Girls and A Monster of the Chris Savino era. This episode is basically like a reminder that parents and legal guardians are the ones who should ultimately take responsibility for their children's actions instead of just blaming other people for it. But for what it is, it's not funny or entertaining and definitely one worth skipping. Need I point out that the two people of "P.A.P.P" (People Against Powerpuff Girls) were played by the same people behind the voices of Cosmo and Wanda from The Fairly Odd Parents?

But seriously, where do these two come from? Clearly not from Townsville otherwise they'd be more than happy to ask for the girls help, but no, instead they eat everything up with complaints and threaten to sue the Professor if the girls start using their superpowers again. I hate tropes like this, especially when we all know in the end, they go back to normal and do what they do best. Now if only they were kicking Stanley and Sandra Practice's butts instead.

3. Moral Decay *sighs* some of you have definitely seen this one coming but you can see why. It's one of the most unpleasant, mean spirited and degrading episodes of the Craig McCracken era. What were the writers actually thinking?

Buttercup's nothing but a straight up sadist in this episode, the moment those mouth muscles form a malicious slasher smirk, she has straight up changed in personality throughout the episode. After accidentally knocking one of Bubbles' teeth out, she learns of the "tooth fairy" bringing money in exchange for teeth under kid's pillows and what does she do? She constantly abuses Bubbles just to try and knock out her teeth.

First off, Buttercup may be tough, but she loves her sisters dearly and wouldn't think of abusing her own sisters for kicks. Sure she gets into scrapes now and then, argues and teases them, but she would never want to hurt them to this extent!

UmbraMagna's stated this before on YouTube but have they go something against Buttercup, did they hate her character? Why did she always get the rough stuff in punishment and treatment? Think about it? In Down and Dirty, she refuses to bathe and even gets kicked out the house until she gives in and is forcefully given a full scrub by her own sisters. In Cover Up, a whole opportunity is wasted  on a story that could have had a heartwarming peptalk scene between Buttercup and the Professor, there, Buttercup feels vulnerable without her security blanket. You gotta remember that she is a little girl, it's normal for someone her age to have a baby blanket.

Going back to Moral Decay, it's a terrible episode that's just painful to watch and do NOT get me started on the ending. The Professor at his most non-caring right here, not to mention that close out ending scene. As punishment, the Professor pays covers Buttercup's dental bills with the money she "saved". By the way, I suggest you check out @UmbraMagna's extended review on this episode. Since mostly I'd be shadowing and echoing what she has said, along with A Very Special Blossom in her top 10 worst PPG eps countdown.

2. Sun Scream/The City Of Frownsville I put these two together because...well, they both aired together, simple as, bit cheap and not so well explained or thought but what else. These two episodes are just torture! Despite being on different topics. 

First off, Sun Scream. This episode is just a chore to get though. The girls all catch the sun after refusing to put sunscreen lotion on while trying to stop a solar flare from plummeting to the earth. What do their fans and the rest of the citizens do? They laugh at them, instead of showing concern for three kids who have badly been sunburned. Just...what has happened to Townsville?

The rest of the episode is nothing but the girls struggling to get up out of bed and trying to answer the hotline, getting dressed to even struggling to attack some con artists. I won't spoil this episode but if you have made it through till the end then good luck, this one's just painful to watch.

Then we have The City of Frownsville. Although being dedicated to those who lost their lives during 9-11 (with all my respect, I pray now even). Despite this, this episode is nothing but everyone sobbing their eyes out for ten minutes. If you can't stand nails scratching on a chalkboard, then you will definitely not be able to make it through this episode.

All of Townsville's put under a spell by "Lou Gubrious" and his machine that causes everyone to cry uncontrollably, this then reverses his mood giving him the new name "Hal Larious" (please, seriously?), the rest...ugh.

Skip this one while you can guys.

Before I get to number one, I'd like to give out a few dishonorable mentions.

Cover Up - For shaming Buttercup being a softy. Also her sisters cruelly laughing at her. Twisted Sister - First off, I don't hate this episode as a whole, I don't like what they did with the new sister Bunny. She's unstable, but her slurred speech and lack of English, as well as dying in so called comedic fashion's a bit too much. Fallen Arches - Blossom's unbearable in this episode. Sure, we should respect the elderly but refusing to fight these crooks and throw'em in jail. Just...no. Sweet and Sour - Ugh, cutesey animals getting away with crime and the citizens are just as clueless because they are "TOO CUTE!". Come on! Pee Pee Gs - Unsettling and nothing but pee jokes. Umm...no, unfunny and a cringefest. Prime Mates - Mopey Popo's constant complaining and rambling in his Droopy-esque voice and the girls not having enough screen time make this a true downer. A Very Special Blossom - Ugh, one of the first of episodes where one of the girls does wrong and gets punished for it. In this case, Blossom's dark side shows when she steals a valuable set of golf clubs just to please the Professor for Father's Day. That's Not My Baby - Ah the baby cliche! Whether it's abandoned or just being looked after the whole package is there. The baby never stops crying, and when it eats, it's diaper needs to be changed yada yada yada, I'm sick of this cliche and this episode's no better. HOW did they not even notify the Professor even? I left it out of here because the ending was actually clever. Cop Out - Forgettable, bland and yeah. Unfunny, also that cop. Ugh. Custody Battle - Just doesn't feel like a PPG episode, but a Rowdyruff Boys spinoff. Also the whole two daddies thing...nah. Divide and Conquer - I know education and learning's important but an entire maths episode...nope. Save Mojo - I'm a bit of an animal activist, no lies but...a cartoon chimpanzee with constant diabolical plans to destroy the Powerpuff Girls and take over the world, that's different (plus a cartoon), and...yeah. Basically Girls Gone Mild with animal activists and protesters. Say Uncle - Absolutely forgettable and lame. Mizzen In Action - I love the Crack McCraigen pun name but over all, this swash buckling episode's one of the show's most forgettable episodes. Seed No Evil - Bland and boring and...seriously, what's this all about seeds in olden times? The City of Nutsville - Bubbles gets stung in the throat by a bee/wasp and her sisters actually laugh at her...messed up. Also, squirrel apocalypse. Insane. West in Pieces - Ugh...ancestors of the Powerpuff Girls? really? As if Seed No Evil was no better.

And the number one worst Powerpuff Girls episode is...

1. Toast Of The Town I HATE this episode! Talk about character derailment, especially when you're in the middle of season five. If you can get through this episode listening to the Mayor speak in the third person, good for you, because there's a lot of it and it's enough to make your eardrums split.

The Mayor has a huge craving for toast (say, at least SOMEONE now has a toaster unlike everybody in Too Pooped To Puff few seasons back) but his toaster is out of range, so he goes to the Professor to have it fixed. And with that, we get some of the most cringe inducing audio, lack lustered story writing and some of the most ANNOYING dialogue in any episode! The Mayor is basically nothing but...a child in a man's body here. The Professor won't fix his toaster because he's busy, but after more complaining from the Mayor, he gets on with the job and the Mayor is so impatient he asks in seconds if it's done yet...really? The Mayor is an idiot, that's for sure, but at least he means well and loves his city and job and looks out for the girls. BUT his stupidity here is both questionable, childish and dumbed down to a tee!

The Professor makes the Mayor wait somewhere in the lab which he does despite still dejected and impatient. What follows is...the Mayor curiously pressing buttons like a child and setting off an alarm and causing a huge explosion in the lab...err...is this Dexter's Lab or The Powerpuff Girls? Some weird pattern here! Anyway, the Professor then proceeds to let the Mayor stay put by putting him in a high chair...for...some reason...

Later on, the Mayor discovers a can of Chemical X and rubs some of it on his head thinking it's hair growth formula and...his entire body is now the size of King Kong, complete with a shameless parody to boot. I don't need to explain anymore of this.

Seriously? The Mayor's third person speech and childish behaviour here is some of the worst character derailment I've ever seen. As I said with Gettin' Twiggy With It, there's a more detailed review here by Regulas314: https://www.deviantart.com/regulas314/art/Animated-Atrocities-Toast-of-the-Town-475588395

There's no other way I can mention this episode without any...ahem spoilers, but I suggest avoiding it while you can. SERIOUSLY! This episode's unbearable!

Compare the Mayor in episodes like Uh Oh Dynamo, where he was against the girls having the city destroyed (even though it was the Professor making the girls use the Dynamo). Then compare him here...it's just painful. And with that, let me know what you think which episodes do you think are th eabsolute worst? 

[timetravelersdoctor]

you want some salt?

You guys wanted salt so here I am to deliver (please know that this is my first time actually writing down headcanons and au's)

For the au I thought of (can be maribat felinette or something else)

So no one outs Lila and the class cast marinette out and every one (besides Chloe juleka and rose and Nathaniel cus I like them) bully marinette. Adrien doesn't do anything because he's a spineless jellyfish And one day marinette gets pushed down the stairs by Lila and and she gets hurt enough to be sent to a hospital.

Marinette's parents finally have enough and send her (after her hospital stay is over) to a different school. The class except the mentioned four and adrien celebrate.

But with Mari gone things start to go down hill. Alya can no longer get interviews with ladybug. She can only get them from chat and even those are very brief (only cus he's on thin ice after practically harassing ladybug and the guardian has had enough) so she starts to lose followers especially when a certain new blog is endorsed by ladybug. Her family finds out what alya has done and punish her accordingly

Nino finds that his music isn't the same and after allowing lila to help him he gets in trouble for copyright reasons (since lila most likely has no care about copyright stuff). He's relationship with alya begins to suffer and without someone to talk to (because adrien doesn't exactly understand relationships) he becomes irritated and breaks up with alya. His family also find out what he's done.

Lila now the class pres realises it's a lot harder then she thought and pushes the responsibility on alya adding more stress on her. Lila continues to lie and control the class. (She's outed eventually though. How you ask? You choose)

The class all has something to wrong (something that wouldn't have happened if they were mari's friend)

Chloe after finding out what school Mari is transferred to begs her father to let her move there to. So he does (in this salt au Chloe and her parents have a healthier relationship)

Juleka and rose and Nathaniel (did I spell it right? Hope I did) stay behind to play pretend and update the other two on the class.

Kagami and luka are also on marinette's side.

Now that that bit is over on to the headcanons

Who gets what miraculous (if the character has a * on there name it means they're permanent. I don't really want to make it an over powered thing) no one was outed as a user including chloe. They keep the miraculous on them even if they're temp heros (not really temporary they don't want to have to many heros fighting one akuma unless they have to) each user knows the others identity (screw the not knowing whose behind the mask)

Mari* -ladybug (imma be honest I almost forgot the *)

Juleka- tiger (friggin autocorrect wants to put Juliana) : tigress

Rose - mouse: souris

Luka*- snake: viperion

Nathaniel*-fox (had to choose between juleka and him):renard créatif

Chloe*- bee: queen bee (may or may not change this name though)

Kagami*- dragon: ryuko

Whoever gets the cat is up to you (adrien can even keep it if you want to go the adrien redemption route)

Headcanons (finally)

Ship depends on where you send marinette

(Felinette, maribat, other thing I may or may not know)

Chloe since she has a better relationship with her parents isn't a bully she's just guarded due to not wanting to be used. She actually is aro ace.

Nath is dating marc. He has long since hidden his comics after the class once tried to edit them (Lila told them that nath's story wasn't going to get popular unless they helped him)

Luka and Kagami are dating. So are juleka and rose.

Kitty section is still together how ever they lost Ivan to lila's lies. They were able to find a drummer in Kagami and convince her mother to let her join their band.

Marinette has gotten over her crush on adrien and now that she no longer has the stress of being class pres she finds that she has more time to train her team and create fashion. She loves that her friends (the ones that stuck with her and her new friends) don't take advantage of her and they don't push things onto her.

Adiren has trouble accepting the fact that ladybug does not love him as chat or Adrien. After a very long chat (pun intended) with the guardian and plagg he decides that it's for the best that he gives up the ring. He's tired of everything. Adrien moves on (I didn't really want to do to much adrien salt because I couldn't be too salty to him without needing to amplify his flaws which I didn't want to do.)

Well thats it for now. Please tell me if i can improve something or You want me to write about different au's. I might even do a few one shots if you want. (One shots only. I don't think I would do a good chapter story. I'm not very good at writing as you can probably tell.) But if you want you can help me improve by asking for a one shot and then give me constructive criticism (advice on What I need to improve on.) I might be slow in doing it tho.

This might be the longest thing i've written.

[pupa-cinema]

Happy Go Lucky Heads - SHOW-GUTS - Lyrics English Translation

Lyrics: Sekihan   Music: 324 こたつこたつこたつで In my kotatsu, kotatsu, kotatsu　 みかんみかんみかん Oranges, oranges, oranges こたつでスマフォ片手に　 In my kotatsu, with cell phone in hand みかんみかんみかん Oranges, oranges, oranges こたつこたつパソコン　 Kotatsu, kotatsu, laptop みかんみかんみかん Oranges, oranges, oranges こたつテレビパソコン　 Kotatsu, TV, laptop みかんみかんみかん Oranges, oranges, oranges

ああああああああああ AAAAAA 家でこたつ入って　 Cozy at home, I slip into my kotatsu 何も変化なし Life is static ずっと食って寝てるさ　 All I do is eat and sleep 何も変化なし Life is static そうだ！抱負思いついたよ　 Oh get this! I just thought of a grand idea どやさどやさどやさ Smirky, smirky, smirk だけど！既に忘れちゃったよ　 But wait! I already forgot it 何も変化なし Life is static

噛みしめる年越しのそば Nibbling away at toshikoshi soba (歯ごたえはなく　コシもない) (There’s nothing to dig my teeth into, it isn’t chewy) 寝正月　明日の自分の Spending the holidays in bed, it’s a metaphor for what I’m gonna be tomorrow; 鏡餅メタファー(陽！) A metaphor for kagami-mochi (Yo! [Light])

さぁ　さぁ　表へ走れ Come now, come now, dash outside the house 怠惰　掻き分けて　そら　参れ　参れ Blast past my lazy feelings, 'tis shrine visit time, shrine visit time さぁ　さぁ　サーフ　初詣 Come now, come now, surf on: Hatsumoude 人の波を乗り越え　神頼み(陽！) Surf over the sea of people, make a prayer to God (Yo!)

尊い　踏み出す一歩 With good vibes, I take the first step 胸に　初めてのぼる　日の出　日の出 Inside my heart rises the first sunrise, sunrise 本当のあたしデビューなの This girl right here is debuting her true self 今だ見せつけるべし！ね？SHOW-GUTS！ Now’s my moment of glory! Ain’t it? SHOW-GUTS!

こたつこたつこたつじゃ　 Kotatsu, kotatsu, just being in my kotatsu いかんいかんいかん This is all wrong, all wrong, all wrong こたつでスマフォ片手じゃ　 Just in my kotatsu, with cell phone in hand いかんいかんいかん This is all wrong, all wrong, all wrong こたつこたつパソコン　 Kotatsu, kotatsu, laptop いかんいかんいかん This is all wrong, all wrong, all wrong こたつテレビパソコン Kotatsu, TV, laptop いかんいかんいかん This is all wrong, all wrong, all wrong

ああああああああああ AAAAAAAAA こたつ抜けて服着て　to the 神の前 I slip out of my kotatsu, get dressed, and go to stand before the Gods 遠路電車乗り継ぎ　to the 神の前 Swapping train lines back and forth on my long journey to go stand before the Gods どうだ！俺は生まれ変わった　どやさどやさどやさ How do you like me now! I’ve been reborn! Smirky, smirky, smirk そうさ！これで万事解決！　to the 神の前 How’s that for a happy ending! All’s swell! Now I go to stand before the Gods

脳内　語りかけるは In my head They talk to me (万物の神　マイティーゴッド) (The creation Gods, the mighty God) カジュアル　ストリート風 Casually, like streetpunk style 今風の神だ What a hip God

さぁ　さぁ　神の御前だ You’re in the presence of the Gods 何を　お願いしよう　参れ　参れ What ever should I pray to them for, it's shrine visit time, shrine visit time 「No No　それじゃ届かない “No no, they won’t lend an ear if you pray like that まずは　礼儀作法の　嗜みを　そんで First you gotta learn proper etiquette もっと　普段の暮らし This is something you can practice even- そこで　出来ることから　改善　改善 -throughout your day to day life, so pull it together, pull it together 一回帰れ　出直せ」 Leave, and come back when you're ready” なぜに　厳しすぎるぜ　Oh MY GOD！ What the hell, this is way too strict

THIS IS JAPANESE HOW TO PRAY THIS IS JAPANESE HOW TO PRAY

目覚めたこたつの中で I woke up snug in my kotatsu (部屋着　出掛けた跡もない) (Still in my pajamas, no sign that I ever left) 初夢　夢オチなんて My first dream of the year, I can’t believe it was all a dream (なんてオメでたい) (How happy go lucky) 今年の年越しのそば Eating toshikoshi soba (歯ごたえぱない　コシぱない) (My teeth dig right into it, its so chewy) 寝正月　今日の自分よ Spending the holidays in bed, that’s me alright 変わる時が来た A chance to change..

さぁ　さぁ　表へ走れ Come now, come now, dash outside the house 怠惰　掻き分けて　そら　参れ　参れ Blast past my lazy feelings, 'tis shrine visit time, shrine visit time さぁ　さぁ　サーフ　初詣 Come now, come now, surf on: Hatsumoude 人の波を乗り越え　神頼み(陽！) Surf over the sea of people, make a prayer to God (Yo!) 尊い　踏み出す一歩 With good vibes, I take the first step 胸に　初めてのぼる　日の出　日の出 Inside my heart rises the first sunrise, sunrise 本当のあたしデビューなの This girl right here is debuting her true self 今だ見せつけるべし！ね？SHOW-GUTS！ Now’s my moment of glory! Ain’t it? SHOW-GUTS!

Footnotes:

● Kotatsu and oranges: https://www.giantbomb.com/kotatsu/3055-2702/ . They’re so cozy you never want to leave... Turn the TV on and melt..

● Toshikoshi soba: new year's noodles. They're traditionally eaten because the long shape is metaphorical for living a long fulfilling life in the years to come, not to mention how tasty they are!

● Kagami mochi are two mochi cakes stacked up on each other, with a daitai orange on top! It’s said to be a vessel for the God to come visit your house, spend time with you and bless you. The two mochi represent light and dark, night and day: hence the ‘Light陽’ in the lyrics. 陽 is read ‘Yoh’, similar to the hip word ‘Yo’, so Sekihan used it with double meaning.

They’re called kagami because they’re shaped like old circular mirrors, and like yata no kagami, such mirrors were believed to be vessels for Gods! The daidai(橙) fruit on top is reddish because red is believed to be the color ward off evil, PLUS it’s a strong fruit that stays on the tree throughout the years PLUS it’s even a pun - daidai is close to the word daitai ‘代々‘ meaning ‘years after years’.

● Hatsumoude is the visiting of a shrine at the beginning of the new year, to pray for good luck and draw fortunes. It is typically done the first 3 days of the January, leading to shrines becoming crowded full to the brime: hence the ‘sea of people’ in the lyrics.

● Watching the first sunrise of the year is believed to be good luck, the vivid and blazing beginning! ● Your first dream is believed to be an omen too! It sets the stage. ● Omedetai is actually a word with new years nuances in the first place. It originates from verb めで meaning “praise”, the holidays are a celebration worthy of praise, thus it just evolved into a standard new years greeting. ●  The title is a verbal pun: 正月(New years) is pronounced shougatsu, so they took a macho twist on it and turned it into “Show Guts”, pronounced similar. It’s intended hold the spirit of a “Show me your guts, your vigor” type of thing.

● Many people don’t know the proper amount of times to clap or bow their head when praying at Hatsumoude, which is what inspired the lyrics and an easter egg in the music: it’s replicating the “ 2 bows, 2 claps, 1 bow” praying etiquette done at shrines. https://cooljapan-videos.com/en/articles/bxcpxfg0

● Interview(via Meetia) https://meetia.net/interview/omedetashowguts Interviewer(Yamada Soutaro): Tell me about “SHOW-GUTS”. Besides the lyrics being seen in an optimistic light,

Sekihan: Yep. In terms of concept, the message is hidden under the guise of memes but, at its core is the idea that “Nothing will ever change so long as you never try to move forward on your own volition".

Ever since we started this band, I've come  to think this a lot lot, and now it's become part of who I am deep down. I'm personally glad I pinpointed this feeling, so now it's my turn to preach it to others. This feeling and aaalll of this type of stuff is going right into our songs.

mao: Then there's "2 bows, 2 claps, 1 bow" in it as well, because we wanted to include that. Well, 324 did.

324: Ever since we made this song I never forget "2 bows, 2 claps, 1 bow" anymore! Every time I prayed I'd need to google it beforehand! I'd be at a loss of what exactly to do.

● The text at the beginning of the music video reads 謹賀新年(Happy new year), along with mountain and bird imagery-climbing mountains to see the first sun rise in its full glory is a tradition, while the birds' beaks look resemble a rooster's, as the song was released in 2017, the year of the rooster.

Then the letters behind the stage spell out the band name, but it’s done in the style of kakizome: calligraphic writing of one’s new year’s resolution.