#they turn the making people smile part to ‘Entertaining the crowd!’ it makes me giggle so bad

[herlockslimbo]

anyone else think about rui’s ny 2020 lines a lot

new year's eve: This year has brought me a lot of joy and simultaneously been emotional for me. I have a feeling that next year will be just as fun.

new year's day: What I want to do will never change. I want to make people smile with my shows. That’s my desire.

[lovegasmic]

 𝜗𝜚 HOW THEY HIT ON YOU

─── . satoru , suguru , sukuna , kento, toji x f!reader

꒰ request : jjk men noticing you during a night out ꒱

꒰ fluff : curseless au ◞ maybe ooc Satoru and Suguru◞ mentions of reader drinking ◞ suggestive and a bit of touching w Toji ꒱ ★ taglist

࣪ ִֶָ☾.  SATORU

it’s even a little bit funny the way Satoru eyes you up and down, casually sipping on a non alcoholic beverage while fixing his sunglasses, not subtle in the slightest, there is to add, not as if he actually tried.

an elbow straight into Suguru’s waist and the dark haired man groans, “fucker...”

“look at that girl over there” Satoru, again, does nothing to be subtle, motioning towards you standing at the bar with a friend.

“the one you’ve been ogling at while I talk?”

“isn’t she so pretty?”

it’s like talking to a damn wall.

“i’m going to talk to her”

yet Suguru raises a brow as if the sudden approach was not a good idea, “you sure man, she looks kinda busy with her fri—”

and he’s gone, walking with confidence and a smirk to mask the actual nervousness rushing through the white haired’s body.

“hey” is the first thing he says, elbow propped up on the bar next to you, “can I get you a drink?” eyes drop to the glass on your hand, “... another?”

that did not start well, but your smile makes up for the embarrassment, “sure” you say finally, after a second of knowing glances towards your friend, which didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru, so by reflex, the cocky smirk is back.

he orders a drink, asking for your order or perhaps if you’re feeling adventurous, “and while we’re at it... can I have your name?”

࣪ ִֶָ☾. SUGURU

“the trick is to aim for the head” Suguru casually blurts out. mansplaining? nah, he’s genuinely trying to help after watching you struggle in the claw machine for quite some time now, having come up next to you with soft, light steps that did not break your previous concentration.

the truth is, Suguru was looking at you earlier, something about your determination made him prop his cheek on a hand and look at you, entertained by your groans and complaints whenever the plushie you were trying to get just slipped past the cough, broken claw.

“this game is broken either way” you huff a laugh, turning to stare at the eyes of the stranger man, with a soft gaze and gentle smile, “wanna give it a try?”

“only if you tell me your name first” so that’s how he does it. you thought to yourself, offering a chuckle and your name before he nodded his head, “i’m Suguru”

then he’s gently moving you around, with a hand on your lower back so you’re switching positions, sliding a coin into the slot and getting into position.

it was truly not as if he tried to impress you, he did not, but... maybe... just maybe he did, pulling out all his highschool knowledge learnt from his best friends, and avoiding the part where they all shook the machine when didn’t get a prize.

“is that the one you want?” he really did not need to ask since he already saw you struggle to get it, but still waits for your affirmation before proceeding.

“you really are a magician or something” you chuckle, gripping the plushie Suguru just got for you, “thank you”

“no need to thank me... why don’t you... just give me your phone number?”

࣪ ִֶָ☾.  SUKUNA

approaching you? pfft no. the... tv screen was more visible from the spot Sukuna currently sat at the sports bar, an important match was happening so the bar was crowded, and oh, coincidentally, he chose a table coincidentally closer to where you sat with other people.

when the night started, Sukuna was focused on the game, until of course, you arrived, and his heart skipped a beat.

“that guy is so into you” one of your friends giggles next to your ear, eyeing at Sukuna while you roll your eyes.

“where did you get that from?” it was obvious the man was not interested, with a lazy position, arms draped over the backrest of the booth and a leg crossed, so uninterested.

“he’s totally into you, I can sense this kind of thing, plus, he stared at you when you went to the bathroom”

that... was true, Sukuna couldn’t help and let his eyes drift from the screen and towards you, checking you out in a way that was apparently not too subtle.

but he was not desperate, he was not the one to approach first, girls fell for him, girls wanted his attention, girls that weren’t as half as pretty as you.

“fuck” he grumbles, annoyed by his own feelings while suddenly and quite unexpectedly standing up to go to the toilet, only for you to land face first into his chest as you were about to leave.

“oh, god, i’m so sorry!" you gasp, noticing the stain of food on his shirt from where your leftovers package smashed into him. and Sukuna should be mad, really, but it was so cute how you rambled apologies and clumsily wiped the stain with napkins.

“i didn’t mean it, i—”

“it was quite expensive”

...huh?, “huh?”

“the shirt” he mutters, the previous stoic expression turning into a devilish smirk, Sukuna was an idiot, watching the color drain from your face, “you better pay it back”

“i... i can tr—”

“do you have somewhere to go after this?”

࣪ ִֶָ☾.  KENTO

for the blonde, there was no better way than destressing after a long day at work, then getting drinks.

hopefully without his annoying white haired coworker getting on his nerves.

he often does not care about his surroundings, that’s how he is, quietly taking his own drinks without minding everyone, until you arrive.

you look troubled, it’s been a while since you got in and sat at a table in the back, are you sad? lost? did your friends cancel on you? or are you just awfully early to meet someone?

doesn’t matter, but Kento is unable to keep his eyes off you.

he’s being nice, alright? “can I sit with you?” somehow getting up from his seat and coming to you, his smile is kind and points at the now empty table he was previously at, “i came alone, might as well have some company” he says, holding back the need to say ‘pretty company’

“of course” you know he means no harm, sitting quite far in a still polite distance while clearing his throat and engaging in small talk.

without realising the hours pass, between friendly chatter and introductions exchanged, leaving the bar with a promise of a future date.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.  TOJI

“did you see the hunk standing at the back?” you and your friend giggle, not so subtly stealing glances at Toji, whose casual pose leaning against a wall and hand holding some cheap beer was enough to make most people at the bar swoon.

“you should talk to him” your friend wiggles her brows playfully, “he’s so your type”

“he’s hot, but kinda looks like a criminal...”

“you love that, don’t you?” and ouch, she was right.

and said comment did not go unnoticed by Toji, who was far but not too much as not to hear your giggling, truth is he was eyeing you for a while, eyes on how your outfit showed your body, and how he wished to come a bit closer and smell what perfume you used.

Toji has never been a man to mince his words, gulping down the rest of his beer and walking to you with a smirk and a brief flirty lick of his teeth as soon as your friend rushed to give you some privacy while still remaining within an earshot.

“have some business with me, doll?” and oh, that should not have been so hot, making you squirm and face heat from being caught.

“i um, no ...?”

“you and your friend have been looking at me for a while” she’s quick to flee after hearing that, not waiting to see how Toji’s hand casually rests on your waist, subtly and almost unnoticeable tugging you closer.

“i’d offer to get you a drink but I think you had enough” liar, he just didn’t have money, “so why don’t we get some fresh air instead?” and you fall for it, squirming and nodding at the promise of what would happen later, or perhaps, at the alley next to the bar.

[joocomics]

ಬ fuck buddies

part one | part two | part three

pairing: fuckbuddy!yangyang x f!reader x loser!winwin | not threesome

genre: smut wc: 1k

contains: sub!reader, (consensual) angry sex, name calling, choking (f!rec), degradation kink

a/n: @teasteeper and her work made me fall for loser!wayv so this idea came to me all bc of her <3

you’ve always seen winwin as just the loser friend of your fuck buddy yangyang, but surprisingly he turns out to be the one who finally puts you in your place…

yangyang always hangs out with big crowds, throws the best parties and never minds you coming along; he’s extroverted, popular, radiates confidence and winwin, to you, seems to be exactly the opposite. so every time yangyang invites him you wonder why.

one night as you lay under the sheets of yangyang’s bed, you finally bring up the question, wanting to know what exactly keeps them so close. turns out they’re childhood friends and according to yangyang winwin just finds it more difficult to communicate in a bigger circle. he’s not always like that, he says.

“why do you ask?” yangyang turns on his side with lazy motions. your bodies touch once again, sweaty and still overwhelmed from the previous orgasm. he traces a line on your stomach only to sneak his slender fingers into your slickness. he’s already greedy for another round, just like you. “are you thinking of changing your fuck buddy?”

you laugh at his ridiculous comment, but decide to tease him back despite both of you knowing you’d never have a situationship with a guy like his friend.

“can’t i have two?”

yes, winwin has an attractive face and a nice figure; he’s always put together too. but that’s not enough if you ever happen to consider it. you need someone who radiates confidence, lust. someone who smells like sex, and knows how to handle you with a firm confident grip. someone like yangyang.

“you can have twenty if you want, but sweetheart…” yangyang moves his lips away from your marked neck so he can peer into your eyes, “none of them should be a friend of mine.” his fingers pull out of your slick lips and squeeze your jaw, not really satisfied with the playful smile on your face. the corners of his mouth turn up a bit, but his tone is more sharp than light. it rings like a warning. “i’m serious.”

one evening you’re left alone with winwin to prepare snacks for the party while yangyang goes to buy more alcohol before people start arriving at his place. you catch winwin staring at you with expressions you cannot quite understand what they mean; he stands too close to your shoulder as you fill up the bowls and barely keep the small talk alive. in your opinion, winwin can only hold an entertaining conversation with yangyang and no one else.

“i’m not the loser you think i am if you just give me a chance…” he speaks up, taking off his glasses.

you turn to face him, but before you have a chance to respond with anything, he speaks again, this time with bigger assurance.

“i know what you think about me.”

“okay…” you blink at him, capturing the intensity of his gaze which is usually always soft and mellow. “my opinion of you shouldn’t matter to you, we’re not friends,” you reply, and as you try to walk pass him his tall broad figure stops in front of you. “don’t tell me you’re trying to kiss me,” you giggle, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

his dark eyes skim your body up and down that’s wrapped in a tight dress before they stop on your intrigued expression. your face is pretty. sexy. winwin noticed it the first time he saw you; you were in yangyang’s lap when you reached for his hand, stating your name in the seductive voice you so often seem to talk. but it still has that amused look to it that never seems to go away when he’s in your presence. he really wants to erase it from your lips and make you see him in a new light.

“you’re wrong about me,” winwin grunts only for you to grin again.

“prove it.”

so he does. a moment later your body is sprawled over the marble surface as winwin’s cock is all the way inside you; it’s gliding in a rough rapid speed that has you seeing stars by the way it sharply pokes at your cervix. his one palm is glued to your mouth, because this time he wants to do the talking.

“fuckin’ tired of the way you look at me… think you’re too good for me? just because you’re yangyang’s little whore? f-fuck.. ‘been dreaming of this for so long… shuttin’ your filthy mouth up…”

he feels your walls squeezing him tighter as his thrusts echo aggressively one after another in the kitchen. in yangyang’s kitchen. his hand leaves your drooling mouth so it can go around your neck, pulling you closer to gush at your ear.

“so hot… you’re so hot, but you’re driving me mad…”

you whine incoherently about being close; about not wanting him to slow down. the thrill from the possibility of yangyang walking in on you brings you to the edge even quicker. everything feels so… forbidden.

winwin frees your throat and presses your head against the countertop while making the last few slams into you as orgasm takes over every part of your body.

you kneel on the floor with trembling legs and winwin swears he hasn’t felt this good in a really long time; this satisfied and proud of himself. your dazed teary eyes catch sight of his flushed cock getting closer, and they remain open while the warm thick cum spills in your mouth. his heart feels close to bursting when your throat gulps it down as if his cum is something you’re already used to. although he’s still frustrated with you, he cannot help but relish this moment of you watching him innocently from below; with weakness and surprise. it’s electrifying.

both of you quickly come back to your senses after you hear yangyang opening the front door. you didn’t even get the chance to exchange any words about the events that just happened. you run to the bathroom while winwin fixes his jeans and puts his glasses back on.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[hencheri]

18+. mdni.

pairing: mean!xiaojun x fem!reader x mean!hendery

warnings: noncon, mention of physical violence, xiaojun is straight up cruel & hendery is kinda a himbo lol.

wc: 2k

this is part 2 of this drabble. thanks yaz for the idea <3 it's a little different from what you asked.

xiaojun takes a sip of his drink, the alcohol burning his throat as he swallows it down. he looks around, squinting his eyes at the crowd, searching for a face that would spark something in him. something new and exciting.

but no one interests him enough.

he sighs when his gaze falls on hendery, enjoying himself with some random girls on the dance floor. xiaojun can hear his laugh from here, his hand slapping one girl’s ass, whispering in the ear of the other, making both giggle. 

it doesn’t take much to entertain hendery, just some pretty girls and he’s over the moon. with how easy going he is, his popularity is not surprising. his boyish charm always has its effect on women. 

xiaojun wishes he was as easily entertained as his best friend, but he needs more than just some sexy attire and a girl giggling at everything he says. he sees the inviting glances thrown his way, and maybe he would give in if that’s what he was searching for, but for some reasons, tonight he wants something different, not just a hook-up. 

and that something he will find in someone he already knows very well. 

he spots a feminine silhouette at the bar, body wrapped in a short white dress that seems to be made of satin. she talks to a man, presumably boyfriend as he lays a protective hand on her hip, soon leaving her alone. 

xiaojun can only see her back until she turns around with a glass in hand. the same very eyes he made tears flew from are looking straight back at him. 

his entire mood shifts and that spark he needed so badly finally lights up in him. it’s you. 

he’s about to stand up and leave his seat when he notices your eyes going elsewhere, staring at the crowd of people stacked on the dance floor. xiaojun follows your gaze only to realize hendery is no longer dancing, instead walking in your direction. 

you decide to go in the opposite way, but you stop dead in your tracks as xiaojun comes up to you as well. you’re trapped. 

you back away until you hit the edge of the bar behind you, eyes going in between the two men, having no clue on what to do or how to escape. but it’s simple; you can’t escape. and hendery would like to believe this is fate, this is just how life’s decided to be. 

he would be right about one thing; this is how it is and you can’t do anything about it, but fate… no, fate isn’t so cruel. it isn’t so unfair. 

hendery is the first to arrive, flashing you a sweet smile that would have melted your heart if you didn’t know how mean he truly is behind closed doors. 

“what a surprise,” he flirts, casually leaning his body against the bar at the same time xiaojun comes to your level. 

they both exchange a look, their plans totally changed now that you’re here. 

last time, they left you in their hotel room as it was the last night they were staying in. xiaojun knew they would have to leave eventually, they couldn’t keep you. it was a little delusional to even consider it, but hendery has the habit to get easily attached to people. he sure gets over them fast as well, even though your case has been quite special.

your big scared eyes are looking back at him like he remembers, meaning ‘don’t do this to me’. it’s something hendery can’t promise, though. that wouldn’t make any sense. 

your head turns to xiaojun then to hendery again. “i came with my boyfriend. leave me alone or-”

you’re cut off by xiaojun who clasps a hand around your face, harshly pulling it toward him. he seems to always want to control your movements, to control what you see and what you say — he just wants to control everything. 

“or what? don’t threaten us now, princess,” he says sternly, “you know better than this.”

his eyes hold all the hate in the world. he doesn’t give a single fuck about your boyfriend, in fact, he has a stronger desire to take you now that a boyfriend is involved. it means having something that isn’t technically his, but will be once he has his hands on you, as if curving his initials into your skin. ruin you for any other man.

“where’s the little boyfriend anyway? i don’t see him,” hendery mocks, laughing straight in your face. how convinient for them that he decided to leave right when they noticed you. it’s meant to be, hendery’s sure of it. 

you open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. maybe fate is that cruel after all. 

your phone is buzzing incessantly, messages and calls from your boyfriend. you wish for once he wouldn’t worry so much, that he’d at least drop it off for tonight. 

this situation is too reminiscent of the last time they had you both helpless and submissive for their sick pleasure. your dad calling, and now your boyfriend, all while xiaojun is taking you from behind. 

your front is pressed down on the bed as your legs are dangling off of it, hands holding onto the bed covers. 

“can you turn that shit off? that boyfriend’s gonna turn me crazy,” xiaojun groans and rolls his eyes, talking to hendery. 

he picks up your phone from the floor, seeing almost 20 notifications all from the same number. “my guy’s worrying to death,” hendery snickers, scrolling through the unread messages. “we should reassure him and tell him his precious girlfriend is well taken care of.”

you can’t believe they want to mess with your loved ones again. you still remember when xiaojun pressed your phone to your ear, basically forcing you to talk to your father while his friend was on top of you. you won’t forget the sickening glint he had in his eyes, like he’s never been more entertained in his life before. 

“stop it,” you say with a weak voice, tear stained cheek laying on the mattress. you look at hendery, but he doesn’t drop your phone, instead typing something on your keyboard, immediately assuming he’s sending a text to your boyfriend. “don’t! please! why are you doing this?” you cry out loudly.

but again, they choose to ignore you. the smile on hendery’s face makes you sick in your stomach, how can someone so beautiful be so heartless? 

“give it to me,” xiaojun asks, reaching his hand out. hendery hands it to him and he places the screen just in front of your eyes. “how caring of him,” he coos.

you can see all the texts he sent you, asking where you are, why did you leave, if you’re with someone else, if he did something wrong, and then calling you a bunch of times. 

but before you can see what hendery said to him, xiaojun opens your camera and starts to record a video. 

he holds your hip with one hand, thrusting back and forth into your pussy. he films your intercourse, capturing how the translucent pearls falling from your eyes roll gracefully over your rounded cheeks to disappear into the material of the bedsheets. how pretty. 

the back of your thighs burn at how violently he pounds into you, his skin smacking against yours, the sounds echoing in the room. 

xiaojun leans over you, his naked chest sticking to your back, and a surprised gasp escapes your lips when he digs his teeth into your shoulder, biting you. he films it, of course, wanting the video to be as graphic as possible — so explicit that when your boyfriend will watch it, he’ll burst in anger, his little ego crushed by seeing his girlfriend in the hands of another man.

his hips roll against your ass, hard cock entering your pussy and stretching your walls to the size of his girth. the amount of arousal that drips along your inner thighs embarasses you, cursing your body for reacting to his touch — to their touch. 

he positions his lips right beside your ear, “you like this, don’t you?” he growls, sliding his cock into your wet cunt in a way that has the knot in your stomach tightening. “poor little girl getting her slutty hole stuffed full of cock… how unlucky,” xiaojun whispers to you, his mean words making you sob harder. he says all of this while looking straight at the camera, knowing who’s going to be the spectator of it. 

he then straightens his back, resuming his brutal and harsh pace. he ends the video, passing your phone back to hendery who happily sends it to your boyfriend. 

more long minutes pass where xiaojun moves into you back and forth, slapping your ass so hard that you still feel the trace of his hand on you. hendery has a painful hold of your hair, your head tilted to the side as he makes you suck his dick. he can’t stop talking to you, calling you a bunch of names, praising your skills that you absolutely hate using as of right now. 

you wish his words would mean nothing to you, but they will remain in your mind for a long time, replaying in your head every time a man that isn’t him will touch you. you will not recover from this, and the fact that you might not find pleasure with anyone else scares you the most. this isn’t how you should feel. 

your phone is long forgotten, thrown away on the floor, nobody paying attention to it until the battery finally dies down and you don’t hear any more from your boyfriend. you’re relieved, in a way, that his attempts to contact you are just useless now. 

the night feels endless, and rightfully so, because they use you in so many ways that you can’t count anymore. your energy is spent, but they don’t care — not in the slightest. you’re theirs now. 

the sun going through the blinds wakes you up, blinking your eyes open. your eyelids stick together a little bit and you feel the puffiness of your face, the results of you crying all night. 

the first thing you see is hendery’s sleeping face, buried in your chest. you can feel his breath fanning across your skin, quiet and regular. his deep brown hair are in a mess, strands covering his forehead and eyes. 

his big hands are laid on your waist, blood creeping up to your face when you realize that you’re naked. you forgot for a second the reason why you were brought here and with who. 

you squirm just a little, but you can’t really escape hendery’s embrace, he holds you too tightly. 

you look up when you hear the sliding door opening and then closing, seeing xiaojun getting back inside, a cigarette in hand. he takes one last drag out of it until he crushes the end into the ashtray placed on the dresser beside him. 

he’s dressed in a large black hoodie and grey sweetpants. when he notices your gaze on him, he smiles at you, surely the first time you’ve ever seen him do it. 

“do you wanna take a shower?” he asks and honestly, it surprises you.

you remember waking up in an empty hotel room, only your bag and clothes laying on the floor, no trace of the men who had taken you away. but now, they’re here, one of them cuddling you in his sleep and the other offering you to wash yourself. 

what changed? why did they stay?

you faintly nod your head. “great, i’m gonna go start it then.” and xiaojun leaves for the bathroom. 

you look around the room and catch the sight of your phone charging on the nightstand nearest to you, extending your arm to grab it without startling hendery’s slumber. you unplug it, bringing it to your face.

you rapidly unlock it and immediately go to your messaging app. 

a big knot forms in your throat and your eyes begin to water when you read the texts from your boyfriend, breaking up with you just after the video was sent.

[ronearoundblindly]

Feel free to ignore this… but any further (descriptive) thots on what the first time Ari calling reader Mrs Levinson would be like?!

I just can’t get the thot of tender love making out of my brain after reading the 3+1!

Please no pressure at all! Just wanted to let you know how much this Ari lives rent free in my brain 😵‍💫💙

Ari Levinson x bestfriend!Reader (now wife) from Bedrock and Blueprints series

woah. so. good lawd, i got all up in my own feels for a while and shrank my world down to just reader and this guy:

An expansion of the the last part of this. Warning for sexy times in the most loving way. MINORS DNI. WC 1.3k

A/N: holy sh*t. don't @ me if you hate this and hate terrible puns because 🙈 idk what happened...

Your relationship keeps evolving.

You started as distant acquaintances, sharing a friend but not much else. Soon, though, you and Ari found common ground and mutual respect. Slowly, the two of you learned more about each other and grew comfortable, playfully jabbing at each other's bad habits and blind spots.

You only ever wanted the best for one another.

It took a long time--many people would say too long--to WANT one another, and old habits die hard.

The strangest part of your wedding day is how easy it is to fall into the 'friend' pattern again. You're executing a planned day, hosting guests in your home, coordinating care of your baby. Ari's helping. He always does.

The ceremony is short and sweet, the party after a simple barbecue. It hardly feels...special.

On the other side of the lawn, Ari shows a few of your coworkers Rachel's favorite face he makes, and your daughter howls in joy, grabbing at Daddy from her perch your cubicle-mate's arms.

They're too far away to hear, but you can read Ari's body language pretty well after a decade.

What's wrong, honey? You love looking out at a crowd.

See? See all these people? They're here for you. For us. For...

Ari's eyes meet yours, his bottle of beer becoming an anchor in his outstretched hand. He beams.

...mommy.

You give a tiny little wave just as he gets ambushed by a few more guests cooing over Rachel. Ari is tall enough that you can see his gaze never leaves you, even when he's surrounded, even when he mutters an answer to a question, even as he pats shoulders and backs until he's out of the throng.

His radiant smile washes over you like the warm breeze on this perfect day. His feet land in time with thuds of Boyd and Dimitri battling it out on the cornhole boards, and the women flanking you twitter appreciative giggles as if putting voice to your heart's fluttering.

Ari is, well, damn fine to look at.

"Hey," he breathes heavily once making his way to you. "You wanna--" he gestures behind you to the house "--for a sec?"

"Oh, sure." You scramble to think what more could be missing from outside. Are the drinks running low? Is the grill ready for the next round of food? Does Rachel need a toy or maybe a hat?

He leads the way to open the door for you, and that's when you notice Ari's starting to sweat through the t-shirt he changed into after the ceremony. He's never been a fan of the penguin suits. As he puts it, "they rent them for a reason. Nobody wants to own one of these."

Whether for the entertainment or just to cool himself off, you assume Ari's heading for the kitchen and turn accordingly before an arm snaking around your waist hauls you backward.

"Not so fast, gorgeous," he snips in your ear, a familiar playfulness in the words warming down your spine.

"What are you doing, Ari?" you laugh, letting him man-handle you down the hall to the bedroom.

He touches you down gently beside the door and shuts it behind him quietly. Those pearly white teeth and bright blue eyes keep shining.

"Just taking a minute," he whispers, stepping closer, dragging his finger around your ear to move a bit of stray hair, "just for us."

His focus holds yours for a long time. The rough pad of his thumb traces the height of your cheekbone. A sheen of perspiration glistens on his temple. His flush glows pink even on the skin between beard hairs. Ari's tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip.

Mixed with the muffled sound of your party outside, it's hard to tell his breathing has changed, but when your own eyes stop roaming the rest of his face, you see welling tears.

"Sorry, I don't know why..." Ari's cracking voice trails off. He sniffs and plants his hands against your hips to steady himself.

It makes your head spin.

"Sorry I took so lo--" but you don't let him get the words out.

Friends don't let friends cry over wasted time, no, because none of it was wasted. Learning about each other is necessary. Respecting one another is crucial. Laughing at the little things and the stupid things is essential. Everything happened just as it should.

You pour your approval into the kiss, tossing your arms around his neck and climbing him like the steadfast, rooted tree he's become, the centerpiece he is in the forest of your life, and Ari weathers the assault with gusto.

He sways with that changing wind of desire to lay you on the bed, shading you with his broad body and dangling hair, cocooning you both in your own little world, hot and heavy and light as a feather.

"I love you," he says as his wide palm explores up your skirt. "I love you," he says as two fingers move your panties out of the way. "I love you," he says as he discovers just how long you've been waiting for this touch.

"I love you," you repeat, undoing the fastening of his shorts. "I love you," you repeat, pushing them to the ground. "I love you," you repeat, taking his length in your hand.

"Please, Ari."

He hisses in tortured excitement. "Yeah?" In a flurry of fabrics, he's yanking your skirt around, tucking your leg up high over his waist as he climbs on the bed, too. "You want me, gorgeous?"

You like how much he leans into your new nickname; he's tried to ween himself off calling you 'kid' now that Rachel exists.

"Need you." Your words sound whiny and desperate because they are. "Need my husband."

The groan Ari lets out would wake the neighbors. Thank g-d there's a party outside...

He's so careful entering you, giving you time to stretch for him, giving him time to listen to every sated breath you both take. He pulls down the zipper at your side and peels your dress back, further exposing you. He loves how sensitive your nipples are since having a baby, but he also knows how much you hate these bras. He takes a moment to unhook you and fling that shit across the room, relishing your happy sigh of freedom.

"There's my wife," he chokes out, propped on his hands above you, surveying the bare beauty before him. His shirt is loose and wrinkled from where you've been gripping it for dear life. The shimmer of tears is back in his eyes--just for a second--until you bring him down to kiss again.

Once fully sheathed inside you, Ari sets a rhythm to mirror your whole relationship: slow and playful. He works to make you laugh, to make you fight him just a little bit because he's being silly. He flicks at your nipples and mouths at your shoulder. He only has one care in the whole world and for all time until--

Ari growls into your neck when there's a knock at the door.

"Just took the last bottle out of the fridge for Rachel, dearie. Thought you should know," Momma Joe's sweet old voice vibrates through, but you hear her footsteps fade quickly.

"'Spose that means I need to pump..." You toss your arms out in defeated frustration.

"Nah-uh," Ari shoots back, gathering you into a firm hold, pressing himself that much deeper inside you. He drapes that bubble of attention over you again, intent and adoring. "Right now? Right now you're mine, Misses Levinson."

He rolls his hips back, cock inching out of you, covered in your slippery arousal.

"And I need to pump--" he thrusts forward, the heft of him making your head loll back on the sheets "--again...and again...and again..."

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @royalwriteroftheuniverse @jamneuromain

[lovebillyhargrove]

Part 2 of Billy hates Health

***

"Who THE FUCK put a fucking dildo in my locker ??"

Hargrove's voice is booming in the school hallway. It's between angry and .. what is it, amused ? Why is it fucking amused ?

Billy's turning away from the locker to scan the faces of those who happen to be around. People have heard the question. There are faint gasps and surprised giggles spreading across the hallway. Harrington pretends to be digging in his own locker searching for a book, although he's dying to see Billy's face right now. How pissed is he exactly? Or better yet, how embarrassed ? He can't look now though, not that fast at least, or he'll betray himself right away.

Some guys are gathering around Hargrove to take a look, and Tommy is of course the first one to put his nose inside Billy's locker

He's whistling

"Looks like you got yourself a secret admirer, man."

Carol is snickering and all the guys start laughing and whooping loudly, girls just hiding shocked giggles in their palms.

Steve thinks it's safe to watch the show unfold now. However, he quickly becomes disappointed.

Because that's definitely not the result he wished for.

Hargrove doesn't look embarrassed at all, what the hell. The motherfucker is grinning, like life has just got so much more interesting. He takes out a box with an average-size skin coloured dildo and raises it above his head for everyone to get a better view.

"Oh look, there's a bow wrapped around it!" Carol, Tina, Vicky and other girls are close to being hysterical now

"Didn't know this school had welcome gifts for newcomers. Not bad, Hawkins High, not bad at all."

"Why would anyone .. how would you even use it ..?" Carol's curious, for fuck's sake, Carol is blushing but Hargrove just looks entertained

"You're asking very good questions. Let me just .."

Billy bends and whispers something in Carol's ear while she covers her mouth in utter delight, eyes getting bigger and more illuminated

"Easy, bro!" Tommy is playfully shoving him away

"That's my girlfriend. Hands off." Carol looks intrigued and excited and not like she minds Billy whispering obscenities to her

"Sorry, man. My bad." Hargrove raises his hands in the air as if apologizing. He's still holding the box in one hand and throwing the other one around Tommy's shoulder, talking low so that only he and his significant other can hear him

"Maybe you and Carol can have some fun with that thing? I bet you can't get something like that around Hawkins. Someone must've put real effort into it."

Carol scrunches her nose in eager disgust, and Tommy looks interested but shakes his head, laughing

Billy looks around until his eyes lock with Steve's.

"Yo Harrington! Any idea how it got into my locker, man?"

Steve is shrugging his shoulders, lips curved in a mocking smile

"Nah."

Harrington can see that Billy wants to say some more but restrains himself

"I'll just keep it here in case anyone needs it .. for some fun and games."

There's a teacher turning the corner and walking towards the loud gathering of teens

The crowd disperses, Hargrove bangs his locker closed, people still laughing and joking about the whole thing

Nancy comes back from the bathroom

"What happened here?" She takes Steve by the hand.

"Ugh, nothing. That new guy just wants attention, as always."

"Let's get to class."

"Sure." Steve kisses his girlfriend's cheek.

"You seen it, man? The fucking sex toy??" Tommy is going to talk about it for a week.

Nancy speeds up and Steve has to follow.

Damn it. Fucking damn it! That is not the outcome Steve was hoping to achieve. He wanted to see Hargrove's face turn red, wanted others to make a couple of nasty jokes. It seems he can't really make people dislike Hargrove cause they already love him so much. Even Tommy, his best friend since forever, is not immune to Hargrove's charm. The way Billy was easy about the whole thing, the way he's easy about a lot of things? Breezy and carefree, the way he can laugh anything off, and people will laugh with him. And still there's like an iron wall inside him, that hidden strength, he never caves.

Why is he not ashamed? Why is he not afraid?

What the fuck is his secret? And what the fuck is his problem ??

Steve is not listening to Nancy. He's not listening to the teacher during the class. His mind is busy with more important stuff.

So yeah, it was Harrington. He put a sex toy in Billy's locker. The whole affair needed some preparation, of course. Effort was definitely applied. At the weekend Steve drove to fucking Indianapolis for that. He found a sex shop, put his sunglasses on, got inside, grabbed the first dildo he saw, paid for it in cash and drove back to Hawkins with a wildly beating heart. Then on Monday he stayed late after classes, and picked Hargrove's locker. Looked around inside it. Nothing special, just books. A picture of the ocean waves rolling on the vast sandy beach stuck to the door. Must be California or wherever this asshole is from.

He stuffed the dildo in Hargrove's locker with a bright red bow wrapped around the box. Valentine's Day is too far away. Surprise, bitch, October Valentine's.

No but seriously the motherfucking ass bitch. Why is he so fucking annoying, so annoyingly calm?

So the plan didn't work. Okay. Maybe it was stupid from the beginning. But Steve? Steve would totally be pissed if he found a gift like that. Tommy would launch a whole investigation, sniff out and crucify the joker. All guys would be furious, like .. whatever would they need a dildo for? Is there an implication hidden in there?

But that jackass Hargrove didn't bat an eye. Cool like a cucumber. Yeah it all started with the giant cucumber he had given Harrington during that memorable health class, when Steve felt the underlying agenda, a probable insult like Hargrove was fucking with him.

Hence the dildo. Maybe Billy can stick it up his ass and unwind a bit. Leave Harrington alone.

Shit. It all played out not like Steve wanted it to. A weekend wasted. And he blew off a date with Nancy, for that.

Well, no, wait, wait. Not really. Every failed attempt is an experience, right? Now Steve knows that if he wants to bring that arrogant dick down a notch, no big harm done, he has to strike on a different level. Deeper.

Steve's gonna make him embarrassed. He's gonna make him fucking humble. He might just have come up with another way to do it. Another plan.

He can sense there's something wrong with Hargrove. Something .. something Steve has never come across face to face before, it's in the way he taunts Steve, in the way he looks, no, stares at him. There's a secret, there's a problem, and Steve's gonna take advantage of that.

Why does he want to do it? Steve just hates to be the used to be the most popular guy. Yeah, he's got a girlfriend now, a serious one. Relationship material. Well, maybe too serious, really like .. he likes her, loves her probably, but he's been trying to make her loosen up a bit, you know? Try something different other than sweet and romantic and missionary. Shake her down for some fun. All in vain. Anyways, that's not the point here. So yeah, Steve's in a relationship, and Tommy has told him many times that he's walking a slippery slope of becoming pussy-whipped, but he's still fucking King of Hawkins High and he doesn't want some Californian self-entitled hotshot, the fucking pleb coming to his town and all of a sudden stealing the crown? All girls' eyes are on that ass, drooling to get a ride in the flashy blue car. All guys want to be his best friend. Tommy has been following him around like a bitch on a leash. He's doing good at school, he's superb at basketball.

Stupid fuck.

Harrington is not ready to let go of his title that easily. He still wants to be crowned prom king at the end of school year. He doesn't want to lose to that piece of trash who thinks he's the hottest shit.

Also, you know what, Steve would actually be absolutely fine with this new pain in the ass called Hargrove, if he minded his own business. The thing is, he doesn't. He comes at Steve, he thinks he can take the fucking liberty of making obnoxious remarks, stick his nose into Steve's business, fucking push him around during practice like Harrington's some kind of loser? Hargrove's been doing it since day fucking one, who the hell does he think he is?

Steve's not mean. Well, he's not the meanest, really. He never bites first. The freak Byers? He deserved his camera to be broken. The creep was taking pictures of them, of his girl, in the middle of the night, without them even knowing it. What should Steve have done? Should he have patted him on the shoulder, great photos, man, real artistic shit, wow, do you mind taking a couple while we are actually making love?

Steve only bites when he gets bitten.

There is something else, too.

On top of everything, deep down, he hates the fact that whenever he's lucky enough to have seldom sexy time with Nancy, Hargrove's always somehow at the back of his mind. Fuck knows how and why he got there. But he's there. Every fucking time, and Steve absolutely hates it.

So he sets the new plan in motion.

It's really simple.

Next time they are in the showers, Harrington throws a glance at Billy. Doesn't say anything, throws another one. When Hargrove looks back, Steve averts his eyes. It's a matter of milliseconds.

Next day when they have basketball practice and Hargrove starts his usual dance, Steve pushes him back like he usually does, only gentler. Just a tiny bit, a whiff of less force, but Hargrove notices. It throws him off his game, like an unexpected stumble, and Steve is sensing it, like a hound.

In the showers he looks at him again, a second longer than the previous time.

Confusion is written all over Hargrove's face under his usual asshole expression.

Steve can feel it in his gut that Hargrove, despite being smart, has taken the bait, hook line and sinker.

Maybe, just maybe Steve has an idea what Hargrove's secret is, and he can make it work in his, King Steve's, favour.

Now all he has to do is wait for the right moment, keeping the interest up in the meantime. The moment when Billy slips, gets too greedy, and takes a big bite, Steve will hook him fast and reel him in.

Watch him choke on it.

Not for everyone's amusement, but exclusively for his own.

He will make this asshole humbled.

***

Parts of this and this season 1 Steve vs Billy

[slafkovskys]

Could you do Juraj Slafkovsky and 'you got me flowers'

warnings: teasing, a little bit suggestive, hints of daddy issues + forbidden romance?

“you know that your dad is not going to be happy that you’re wearing that,” hallie mumbles as you step out of the car, having to pull your dress down so that it would cover more of your thighs.

you flip your hair over your shoulder and reach in to grab your bag before sending a smile to your driver, intertwining your fingers with hallie’s as you walk towards the entrance, “well then maybe he should stop sending me as a representative to these things then if he’s just going to chew me out.”

“will you let me find a husband first, at least?” she rolls her eyes as you’re ushered through the door without even having your identification or invitation checked. steve, the man at the door, had worked at the arena since before you could properly walk. though he was supposed to do it for everyone, he never checked you for anything.

you got away with a lot because of him.

the concourse was already crowded with donors and players alike, all here for one purpose. raise money for whatever charity your father had chosen to support this season. he had given you the spiel and you had notes on your phone that you really needed to look at before-

“y/n, there you are! i’ve been looking all over for you.”

katerina’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard in the most respectful way possible as she makes her way toward you. the woman had become what you could only describe as a handler for you at these events. her job was simple: make sure you say the right things, act like you know what you’re doing, and make the family look good.

simple.

she gives you a once over, “you couldn’t have found a dress that had both arms and a few more inches at the bottom?”

“you couldn’t find a better attitude?” the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them and hallie turns her head to stifle a giggle at your bluntness. you huff and nod your head, “what do you need from me?”

she wipes the scowl off of her face before clearing her throat, “we need you to take some pictures with some of the bigger donors first. then, we’ll have you walk around and look at some of the things that are up for auction.”

“cool,” you mumble before turning your head towards your best friend, “i’ll find you later. don’t do anything that i wouldn’t do.”

“good thing that’s a short list,” she winks before you part ways.

you follow katerina down to the main part of the arena that had been cleared of ice and instead was lined with booths and an area set up for your photo op. you sigh as you hand off your bag, faking a smile as you make your way down the line of businessmen and women who you were meant to entertain for the next couple of hours at least.

katerina grins as you shake their hands, “this is y/n, geoff’s daughter. she’s here on his behalf tonight.”

that’s all you ever seemed to be at these things, geoff’s daughter. you ached to be more than just the offspring of the man who owned a sports franchise and that’s why you tried so hard to stay away from anything related to the team. that was until a few months ago when you bumped into him in the hallway and now you almost made it your mission to be involved in all things canadiens just for an excuse to be in his presence.

even now as you stand in the middle of a group of powerful people, fake smile turned on, your eyes search the room for him. it doesn’t take long to find juraj, parked at a booth with kaiden and he’s already watching you. under his gaze, you’re suddenly shy and you shift your weight from foot to foot, trying to balance yourself in your high heels.

god, you hated how nervous he made you.

once your photo op was over, you tell katerina that you need to use the restroom before she starts parading you around. she huffs before telling you to hurry.

you have no intentions of doing so.

you spot hallie leaning against the wall, talking to some rookie who had just been called up from laval earlier in the week. you can tell her laugh is fake and so is the hand she rests on his jersey. you lock eyes with juraj once again and you don’t have to say a word, you know that he’ll follow you wherever.

no one dares stop you as you make your way through the bench that had been blocked off for the event and down the hallway towards the locker room. when you hear his footsteps behind you, maybe you smirk and start to swing your hips a little bit just for the dramatic effect of it all. you barely step your high-heeled foot into the room before an arm wraps around your waist and he’s using his weight to force you two the rest of the way inside. his breath is hot against your ear, “not nice.”

“i’m sorry,” you turn in his arms and pout your lips. you use your hand to run your fingers through his hair before smoothing down his tie, “i’m glad that you chose the red. it looks good on you.”

“look,” he holds his arm up so that you could see his sleeves, “matching.”

you smile softly as you ran your finger over the cuff links you had bought him right around the time your two-month anniversary had come and gone. conveniently, you had a bracelet that matched the links and conveniently, you were wearing it at that moment. it was something so subtle, yet so powerful to you. “yeah, juraj, we’re matching.”

“i got you something. present,” he mumbles as he attempts to pull away. you grip his lapels because how dare he try and pull away when you rarely get to be this close with so many people around and he chuckles, smoothing a hand over your hair when you frown, “is in pocket. have to get, anjel.”

you watch as he reaches for the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls something out, something wrapped delicately in paper. he hands it over to you with a warning to be careful and your curiosity is piqued as you start to unwrap the object. once you see what it is, you look up at him with gentle eyes, “you got me flowers?”

“don’t know how to say in english, but are forever,” he waves his hand around, “no water, no sun. just forever.”

“i love them,” you grin and press your lips to his, savoring the moment between the two of you, but keeping a careful ear just in case someone should decide to come looking for you. you start to trail your lips down his neck and his breath hitches, “you know what?”

“what?”

“you should come and sit with me in the owner’s suite tomorrow night,” you mumble against his jaw and he inhales sharply.

“but your dad-”

“won’t be there. he’s on a trip out of the country, gone for another week. why do you think i’m here?” you smirk as you gently run your manicured fingers along the back of his neck, “doesn’t it sound fun, láska? me, you, alone in a suite, where no one can see or hear us? besides, why would you want to sit with kaiden and arber if you don’t have to?”

“wifi and gully less dangerous,” he sighs as he squeezes your hips and that’s when you know that you’ve got him right where you want him. “you will get me in trouble.”

“hm, we’ll see,” you press a kiss to the side of his mouth before pulling away, smoothing out his suit once again, “i’ll see you tonight, right?”

“can’t leave until late,” he explains with a sad look. “will stay up for me?”

“if you’re good,” and with a wink, you disconnect yourself from him and make your way out of the locker room. you didn’t bother telling him about the stain your lipstick had left on his skin before you left. no, he had to learn that from kaiden while you watched from across the room as he frantically tries to rub it away.

katerina snaps her fingers in front of your face and your smile fades at her angry expression. your attention shifts from your blushing boyfriend to the annoyed woman in front of you who would no doubt be reporting your ‘unruly’ behavior to your father at some point in the next 24 hours. you blink, “what were you saying?”

[deadsnothere]

Fallin' For Ya!

Synopsis - confessing to Cynthia through song?

Based off the song: Fallin for Ya! - Teen beach movie

The longer version this is based off of more

Masterlist

WARNINGS! - gay people

Request - No!

Word Count - 5k (with part two not sure who long this part is)

Speak Ali! - I spent three days on this 😍🫶🏼 there will be a part 2 and maybe 3 but most likely just a 2

Riding away from a man in a car on Cynthia’s Motorcycle, is not how I thought tonight would go-

You may be asking “How the fuck do you end up running away from a man in a car after you explored an abandoned car shop to makeout with your kind-of girlfriend." It's a long story, but since you're on this tag on tumblr..i'm assuming you have the time.

The T-Birds, and The Pink lady's, all sat at two tables in the Frosty Palace. We were just laughing and talking about the campaign until I had to go on stage. Shy Guy had his arm resting on the back of my chair. Until Cynthia moved his arm and replaced it with her own, she gave me a wink and continued talking with the boys, while the ladies were drawing little posters. She was helping but got a bit distracted by the T-birds. Now I was in her place finishing her cute little drawings- and giggling at the stupid jokes she wrote on it.

Shy Guy was looking a bit sad, probably from Cynthia flirting with me. I feel bad but at the same time, I can't help that she doesn't have feelings for my brother. I wish she had feelings for me but no matter how gay she looks I'm not sure she's is. All of her flirting has always been a joke, she had to tell the entire gang that.

My thoughts were interrupted. “Hey Alias, are you ok?” Jane looked worried. “Oh yeah of course- why?” She furrowed her brows and tilted her head, responding carefully. “You're crying?” I HAVE TO BLINK- I FORGOT ABOUT BLINKING- My hand touched the one small tear that dropped out of my eye and I blinked a few times to bring the moisture back. “No no! Oh my- I'm fine I was just zoned out.” Jane nodded and smiled, Less worried now she went back to her poster.

When I turned back to the poster in front of me Cynthia was drawing again. We were practically face to face. She grinned when she noticed I was looking at her. “What? Think I'm gonna let you out do me on my own poster-” She was teasing, so I poked her cheek.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I stood up. “Hey, where are you going?-” Cynthia grabbed my hand and placed it on the poster board. “I have to go up to sing Cyn- it's 7:30 isn't it?” She opened and closed her mouth looking a bit like a fish, before finally answering. “Oh- yeah it is, you can go ahead-” She let go of my hand and continued staring at me as I walked up the stairs of the stage.

Originally it was me and five other girls- now it's just three. I smoothed down my polka dot dress and waited patiently, while the other three got to their mics and gave me a thumbs up. “Hello Frosty Palace! It is me, your Thursday night entertainment, Alias Foreman!” I gave the crowd a second to die down on clapping, hearing the T-Birds and Pink Ladies yell my name, Cynthia's voice sticking out the most as she whistled. “Tonight, me and my girls, Maria, Kt and Lain! Will be singing a song I wrote for a very special somebody.” The crowd roared up in "oooh"s, I looked over to the group, a few of the T-birds were tapping Cynthia's shoulder in a congratulate manor, she was confused but smiled at me anyways making eye contact. Behind her Shy Guy was looking back and forth from me to Cynthia and staring with a sorrowful smile. I smiled back at him with as much sympathy as I could muster on stage. “This is “Fallin’ for ya".” The band in the back started playing the music sheets I'd given them when I arrived at the shop a few hours earlier to practice.

“The day started ordinary, boys walking by.” l turned my head from left to right slowly like I was following the “boys”. There were people dancing with partners or friends and some alone but either way they all looked to be having a good time. “Ooh Ooh” - “It was the same old story, too fresh or too shy.” I kneeled down, booping Buddy on the nose and smiling sarcastically sweet. “I’m not the kind to fall for a guy who flashes a smile.” I looked down at Buddy one more time, waving him away from the stage. “It goes on for miles.” The girls and their angelic voices sang from beside me.

“Unusually swoon, but i'm over the moon!” I dramatically laid a hand on my forehead. “Cuz he was just too cool for school!” - “and now I’m fallin’ for ya!” We had a little dance on stage, we’d snap with the left hand by our head and with the right by our hip and keep changing them along with the beat.

“Fallin for ya! I know I shouldn't but I-“ I sang it with much more passion than i’d normally put into a song. my eyes were closed and as Cynthia said “I was practically making out with the mic” but it still didn't feel just right. Something is off, but I can't tell what.“-I Just can't stop myself from falling for ya! Fallin for ya!” The girls were looking at me surprised, I haven't sung like this in so long, most of it was a song someone requested or something I felt like doing that day- and even if this doesn't feel right, it feels good.

Looking out at the crowd there were people smiling with their lovers and friends. But the only smile I cared about was the bright one Cyn had on her face right now and it only got brighter when I looked at her. “Can't hold on any longer and now I'm falling for you.”

Again dancing to the music in the background, spinning one of the girls, giggling and going back to our respective mics. “Now we're going steady, he's the cat's meow” I hated having to replace the pronouns, it sort of felt like betrayal. “Meow Meow” I tore my headband off and shook my hair a bit to stop the headache that started to grow. “He says I'm a Betty and we paint the town.” Cyn always called me Betty jokingly ‘cause someone at a coffee shop didn't hear my name and called me Betty instead. I think that made her catch on to who the song is about, because once she fully processed the line, she went bright red. “ooh ooh” The girls were watching me, well more like me and Cynthia. They weren't making it obvious but I knew they were watching us.

“I'm not the kind to fall for a guy just cause he says hi,” My eyes wandered around the crowd, mostly kids from Rydell Highschool but also parents or older customers who come to watch me sing. “when he's cruising by” Maria, Kt, And Lain were the only people I trusted enough to tell I was a lesbian. We all ended up finding out we like girls, and jokingly (and secretly) called ourselves the first gay high school singers. The only other person who knows is Shy Guy. “He's ready to race and I'm catching his gaze” I winked at Jane and Olivia and waved to them. Cyn makes a little frowny face. “They’ll go on like this for days!” They all knew I liked Cynthia, but only the girls teased me about it. Shy Guy tried his best to be supportive but I think he would’ve liked it if it were another girl I had my eye on.

“And now I'm- Falling for ya, falling for ya” All four of us sang in harmony, the more me and Cynthia stared at each other the more right it felt to sing this song. “I know I shouldn't but I-” I felt like I was confessing to her on this stage, and that's exactly how I wanted it. I wanted her to know how I felt but also have plausible deniability if it doesn't work out well. “I just can't stop myself from- Falling for ya, falling for ya!” I loved her and wanted to scream it across rooftops in New york, but “My kind of people” aren't accepted in this world. At least that's what Ma says. “Can't hold on any longer and now I'm falling for you.”

The girls have this word they made up that goes well with the song “Shoop”, they repeat it four times each lyric and I love it so much because if it were used in real life it would be so stupid. “It feels like I tumbled from another world” I placed my hands on my shoulders and dramatically shook them. “Into your arms and it's so secure!” Cyn still held eye contact with me, Practically hypnotized as I sang. “Maybe I'll stumble but I know for sure, head over heels I'm gonna be your girl.”

The music continued for a short break. We had about a minute to run down the stairs, drag some people onto the dance floor and get back up to the stage. All four of us quickly ran down the stairs, I went to Shy Guy and Cynthia pulled them both up and dragged them down. Cyn grabbed onto me as I tried to leave, twirling me around, I smiled and pulled Shy Guy into her, giving him a wink and running back to the stage. It hurt a bit, but I wanted him to at least make a move with her if I couldn't.

Once I got back onto the stage we still had a few seconds to spare, so me and Maria were twirling together on different sides of the stage, laughing and giggling at the stupidity and ecstasy we were feeling…until it went sour and my foot was a little too close to the edge of the stage, I fell off, landing in someone's arms. Jonathan, Maria’s brother.

Fuck how do I cover this- how do I cover this?? Cynthia was running over to me as fast as my brother would drop his arms away from her. he had a defeated look on his face. “And now I'm falling for ya, falling for ya I know I shouldn't but I-” I hate to say it but the entire time I was staring at Cyn while I was being held in another man's arms. She was looking over me while John was holding me bridal style, but of course she was trying to wrangle me out of his arms at the same time. “I just can't stop myself from falling for ya,” When John set me back on my feet and Cyn went back to dancing with my brother, which she didn't look too interested in, kept looking back at me. I kept my grasp around John to make it look like I was looking at him but really she was the one who I couldn't look away from. “falling for ya, Can't hold on any longer and now I'm falling for you.” As the music died out, and the crowd started cheering, I was still looking at her, punching my brother's arm in a “you're a bro!” kind of way while they danced, I hated it.

I wanted to be the one dancing with her. John pushed me away from him, smiling at me awkwardly. “Thanks for catching me-..bro?” We both started laughing at how stupid I sounded. "Platonic?" I nodded, thanking whatever god for listening to my prayer. "Platonic." We did a short little hand shake, high five and walked away from each other. I went back to the stage, Lain handed me my jacket and gave me a pat on the back. “See you at home Ali?” I nodded, and gave her a hug, the other two had quick plans they needed to make it to, so they had already left.

“Tell mom and dad Cyn is bringing me home on her bike.” She rolled her eyes and laughed at me. “You know how much they hate that motorbike.” I smiled and pinched her cheek. “But they love the girl who drives it.” She swatted my hand away. “They aren't the only ones-” I pushed her away from me. “Shut up-” Both of us finally walked away. (I gave her the bird and she stomped away.)

“Alias!” I heard a voice calling me, her voice calling me. “Cyn! How’d you like my song?” She smiled brightly, Shy Guy depressingly making his way back to his seat. “I loved it! Who was it about!?” She was wide eyed and staring at me, eager to. “Well who do you think it was about?” Cynthia looked around and pulled me down to whisper in my ear. “Was it about me?-” I pulled back, looked her in the eye and with as much confidence as I could muster, nodded a silent yes. To my surprise, she was ecstatic. Bright red and practically jumping for joy. “Do you want to ditch these losers and get out of here- I heard there's an abandoned car shop somewhere outside of town.” This time I nodded rapidly, still trying to get my thoughts together. “Yes- yes!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the table. “Hey! Alias has to be home soon so- me and her are going to get going.”

She let go of my hand. We kept looking at each other, smiling. Olivia was the first to speak up. “Did you two finally figure it out?” ..What? “What?-” Jane next. “Figure out that you like each other,” Cyn gasped, slapping Jane's shoulder. Jane looked offended, the bird brains and Olivia started laughing, and Nancy was rolling her eyes at the pinning. “I didn't tell her yet!-” Jane was smiling, hiding behind Olivia. “I'm sorry! I thought she knew because of how you were acting-”

Olivia rolled her eyes smiling at them both. “Go have fun you two- We’ll see you at school tomorrow?” Cynthia grabbed my hand dragging me off the platform. “Yeah yeah! Expect us both with a few new accessories!” She was walking backwards pointing at her neck and winking to the table, getting some whistles back from the T-Birds and a- “Hey that's still my sister!- I’ll kill you Cynthia-” -from Shy Guy. I hit Cyn in the head, Obviously flustered by her comment.

We got outside quickly, Throwing our Pink Lady jackets and our helmets on, climbing on the back of her bike. I clung to her waist and made sure my skirt wouldn't fly up. “You good back there pretty girl?” Her voice was a bit weary, like she was afraid to use the name. “I'm good, Hit the road!” I pulled the goggles to my helmet down, grabbing onto the sides of the backseat as my handles and letting the wind hit my body, just enjoying the feeling.

PT.2! Fallin' for ya

[ellssbellss]

Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing- Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is.

Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

summary: He stepped even closer to you, trying to reassure you the best he knew how. 

“Whatever it is you need to tell me, you can say it. You can trust me.”

word count: 14.3k

legend:

(e/c) = eye color

(n/l) = native language

(c/n) = home country's name

(p/c) = pick a color

see masterlist! : masterlist

taglist!: @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn

The Grade School Host The Naughty Type! pt. 1

“What kind of music do you like, (Y/n)?”

You leaned forward on the table, your billowing sleeves falling down your forearm to reveal beautiful rings and bracelets covering your wrists and fingers. You gave your guest a loving smile, biting your lip slightly as you stopped to think.

“Hm,” you say, a seductive hum rolling its way to your guests ears, and resonating within the blush on their cheeks. “I’m not entirely sure. I love all kinds of music.” Your deep lipstick moves as another flirt slips out of your mouth.

“But, I think the sound of your voice is what brings me the most joy, honey.” The girl across from you loops arms with one of your male guests and they both lean on each other to keep from fainting. 

You reach out to steady them, the vibrant skirt of your dress swishing with your movements. The flowing cloth was dyed in a deep (p/c), bringing out the brightness of your (e/c) eyes. Your lipstick matched perfectly, and gold jewelry accented the entire look. 

Tamaki promised a royal Arabic theme, and boy, did he deliver.

“Careful,” You warn as you place your guests back in their chair. “You shouldn’t be falling for me so soon.” A blush is fabricated on your cheeks as well as all three of you giggle at your pun. 

But before you can continue your conversation, you pause your hosting to watch Tamaki excuse himself from his guests. 

A rare sight, indeed. Tamaki would never leave his guests alone if it wasn’t important. 

Hikaru and Kaoru rise with him, but you ignore the way they rush to their places in the foyer of the music room, getting into their positions. You didn’t want to leave your guests unattended.

The guest that you were laughing with suddenly becomes very close. You had entertained her many times, but she had never been this brave. It was a good-natured advance, so no alarm was needed on your part. It was just surprising. 

She looked confident, but a blush raged a war on her cheekbones as she grabbed your hand. Her friend beside her looked at her in awe. 

“I think it’s a little too late for that.” She admitted, a small smile on her face. It was your turn to blush when she grasped your face in your hands and planted a firm kiss on your cheek.

Her forwardness caught you off guard, a nervous sound coming out of your dropped jaw. 

Kissing was definitely not encouraged in the club. It was too sentimental, too intimate. If the hosts went around kissing guests left and right, too many people would be let on, and things could take a dramatic turn. All guests were made well aware of that fact, but some people thought that they deserved special treatment. Not surprising coming from a crowd of heirs and rich nobles. 

Your guest smirked at your disbelief, and you didn’t know what to say. As uncomfortable as this situation was, you didn’t want to make a scene. 

Before you could figure out something to say that could gently defuse the situation, the girl’s eyes flicked to somewhere behind you, causing her to draw back slightly. Her other friend swallowed.

A pale hand gently grasped your shoulder. 

“Kyoya?”

“A new guest is arriving. We need to get into our positions.” He said, his slightly-more-than-monotone voice piercing through the room. Over his glasses, you saw his stare catch onto the guest that had just crossed a club boundary.  

“I’m afraid to say that (Y/n)-san’s hours have unfortunately come to an abrupt end.” He voices to your guests, a host grin pulling on his face. His words were like ice. “Thank you for choosing to spend your free hours here, but you may be excused.” 

“You need to leave?” The girl whined as she leaned ever closer towards you.

Kyoya moves in front of you and offers a hand. You take it, his skin soft against yours, and gracefully peel yourself off your chair. 

“As I said,” Your best friend glazes a stare over his shoulder at the guest behind you. The grin was gone, and his gaze was casted to the women who sat below him. It was the look he used for when the people who worked for him disrespected his father’s work. For when inferior individuals questioned his authority. “You are excused.”

A chill went down your spine as the girl huffed then grabbed her friend’s hand. She pushed out her chair, allowing it to skid across the tile. Throwing a fit, her friend followed behind her embarrassed, his head down and a sad blush dusting his cheeks. Your eyebrows crinkled in sympathy as he was dragged away to another chaotic event that girl would surely create. 

You both watched them walk away before making your way to the foyer, where the twins adjusted their uniforms as they took their places around Tamaki, who draped himself over the couch, a royal centerpiece of jewels and fabric. 

“Please tell me she won’t be back here.” You laugh nervously, trying to play it off as a joke. But it was hard to contain the insecure wobble in your throat, and you tried to disguise it as a chuckle. Kyoya’s jaw set as he picked up the crack in your foundation, and squeezed your hand as he led you to your position: in a window position behind Haruhi. 

“She won’t.” He didn’t need to elaborate more. As cold as he was, you felt safer, appreciating the action Kyoya took when your boundaries were crossed. Add that to the lists and lists of reasons your heart yearned for this man. 

A breeze rushed over your palm as the ravenet let you go. He made his way to his place behind Tamaki’s right, directly to the side of you. A moment passed before your gazes met again and he offered a small smile, washing away the last bits of the scene that had played out minutes ago. 

On the other side of the coin, Kyoya’s nerves were a light with a new flame. 

There wasn’t much more he could take. A female host was a smart addition to the club, as you were bringing in more money and more popularity to the club every day. But with that came more risk, and the money was becoming less and less of a reason to keep putting you in the spotlight. 

Guests got courageous, lazy. A slip of the hand here, a caress there. He has seen the way some look at you, the least bit of good intention in their eyes. He especially had a bad feeling about the girl who had just made a new enemy of the Ootori company. It was a pity no one taught her to follow the rules. 

However, what was he going to do when someone made their advances clear, and you accepted them? 

That kiss on the cheek shocked him back into reality. He had become complacent with softened gazes and light touches here and there, but he wanted more. Kyoya wanted to be more.

He had to act soon. But how?

Being a club member didn’t automatically mean that Kyoya knew how to bring his relationship with you to the next level. Naturally, he didn’t know the first thing about relationships. 

He fidgeted, adjusting his glasses as he looked around the club, watching the girls cry when Honey and Mori-senpai said their temporary goodbyes as they walked towards your side of the picture they were creating to greet the guest that was on their way. Each host was skilled in knowing what these guests wanted in an entertainer.

Extravagant gestures, money, power. Promises of devotion no matter what consequences their choices led too, words of everlasting beauty and riches. 

The ravenet knew you enough to be sure that you were above all that. If there was one thing Kyoya knew he wanted to give you, it wasn’t empty promises. 

Before he could think about it more, the door to the club creaked open, a boy walking in tentatively, choking on a rose petal that had flown into his mouth. 

His thoughts instinctively transferred back to the reputation of the host club and the megane’s back straightened. 

“Welcome to the Ouran High School Host Club!” Your friends said in unison, setting the tone for the atmosphere that you all created around you. 

Your host smile shifted slightly when the short figure plucked the rose petal from his mouth, shaking it away when another one caught onto his fingers. He looked up in awe, his deep brown eyes glittering as they flicked over each costume, Arabian culture deeply rooted in the vibrant colors and jewelry. 

He was just a child, fascinated by the shiny things. 

Hikaru’s arms flopped to his sides, having put them up in a romantic, outstretched gesture. He blew a ginger strand of hair out of his face as his eyebrows drew close in confusion. You had dyed their hair a third time when they grew bored of the bright colors. They liked the sneaky potential of always being mistaken for the other, and the colored hair made it too obvious.

He grumbled to his brother and Tamaki posed in front of him. “Oh, it’s a kid.”

Tamaki, never one to break character, floated a hand towards the boy, gracefully splaying his fingers out to show off his rings. “What’s wrong little boy?” The prince’s voice drawled, a soft, royal tone passing over his tongue. “Did you come to my palace in search of something?” 

The kid shuffled, one foot pointing toward the blonde, and another pointing toward the doorway. His response shook in hesitation as he struggled to make eye contact with the blonde.

“Are you the King of this place?”

You immediately looked at Kyoya, and gray met (e/c) in an exasperated effort. You sucked on your cheek, trying not to roll your eyes as Tamaki sat straighter, a glimmer glossing over his violet irises. 

“Well?” The boy pressed on. “Are you?”

Tamaki’s hand turns, his palm facing upwards. A finger curls, beckoning the child to come closer. 

“Come closer, lost one.” Oh god.

The kid’s green uniform crinkles as he makes his way towards Tamaki, and your posture sinks even more as he adjusts himself to tower over the poor child. 

“What did you just call me, little boy?” Tamaki asks. Egotistical, lovable prick. 

Brunette eyebrows furrow on the young face. “The King?” 

The king lights up, standing to sway around the club room, basking in the words of a naive little child. “Ah, the king! Yes, I am the king of the host club!” You could’ve sworn you saw stars appear in his eyes. “Long live the king!”

“God, kid, what have you done?” You grumble, and watch as Haruhi’s shoulders struggle not to shake with her contained laughter. 

In the presence of the supposed king, the boy straightens his back, putting both feet together in a structured salute. 

“I’m an elementary fifth year! Shiro Takaoji!”

Shiro had a look of determination on his face that seemed too brutal for his age. His soft cheeks were clenched as he set his jaw, and the downturn of his eyebrows accented the shine of a purpose in his brown eyes. It was off-putting.

Then again, Honey-senpai didn’t act like how you would’ve expected either. 

Tamaki gasps as the posture of the child, and you didn’t think his head could get any bigger than it already was. That was before Shiro pointed to your blonde friend. 

“I want the host club king to take me on as an apprentice!”

You were sure the entire host club was going to suffocate under Tamaki’s ego. 

Tamaki rejoices, spinning the kid around in his arms as the boy kicks and spits until he settles under his grasp. 

More than displeased, you lean over to your left, scoffing as you whisper to the handsome director next to you. He notices and discreetly leans to his right.

“Please, an apprentice?” You scoff, your lips curling into a joking frown. “What is Tamaki going to teach the little squirt, huh? His detailed skin care routine?”

A small puff of air exerts from Kyoya, encouraging a small chuckle. He looks at you with a roll of his eyes while you turn your attention back to the boy in front of you, watching how you analyze the little boy like he is a mutant strand of the flu. His gaze softens without you noticing, then he looks to Tamaki as he immediately begins spouting small lessons to Shiro.

His eyebrow quirks as an idea flashes through his mind. If Tamaki is already going to be giving out free lessons on how to flirt with women, how bad would it be to sit in on a class?

“Oh my Tamaki, you have an apprentice?” A girl asks as she basks in the light that is Tamaki Suoh. Guests surround the prince like a moth to a flame, the center of the host club becoming something of a hive. But that wasn’t the unusual part. Today, there was a new kind of bug in their mist. 

Shiro watches intently as Tamaki grasps the girl’s hand, smiling down at her. 

“Yes. He is in elementary school, but I quite like the fire in his eyes.” 

“But are you sure it’s okay for such a young boy to become a host?” The guest says, looking between the elementary fifth year and the high school second year. 

Tamaki’s expression simmers down to a smirk, but clearly ignites a fire in the girl’s heart as he draws nearer, causing a blush to form on her cheeks. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? Love has nothing to do with age.” He rests a hand on her cheek, and you watch as she leans into the touch. “Take us for instance. When I’m with you, my heart starts pounding.” He leans a little closer. “Suddenly, I feel no different than a love-sick little boy.” 

She swoons. “Oh Tamaki~.”

Across the pastel tile, You, Kyoya, and Haruhi watch from the snack table as Shiro leans onto his tippy-toes, poking his head slightly above the table so that he can get a better look. 

“Don’t you think it’s weird that he’s making the kid observe him up close like that?” Haruhi asks, wincing as Shiro opens his eyes a little wider, hoping not to miss anything.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that this kid is here at all?” You say, frowning as you watch what you think to be a 10 year old take notes on how to seduce women. 

Leaning on a table behind you, Kyoya slightly glances up from his writings to check on Tamaki before focusing back on the pages in front of him. 

“There is a theory that people are considered more beautiful when observed up close.” He pauses, disguising it as a bored sigh, while taking the chance to glaze his eyes over your features. It wasn’t that you were more beautiful up close – because he didn’t think that was possible –, but he will always revel in the effect of your presence, and will never bore of you being inches away from his touch. 

“Tamaki seems to live by that theory.” He continues, and writes down the way Tamaki angles the girls face towards his, forcing a blush away from the thought of touching you that way. 

You roll your eyes as an irritating look on the kid's face forms when he tries to focus on the conversation happening in front of him. 

“Well, let’s leave them alone.” You say, as you gather what you came to the snack table for in the first place. You set pastries and sandwiches onto a silver platter, then begin walking back over to your guests for the afternoon. “I’m here to work, not to babysit.”

Both Kyoya and Haruhi look at you as you leave, taken aback by your harsh tone reserved for the fifth year. Haruhi looks between you and Kyoya, who has an eyebrow raised on his forehead, but otherwise seems unfazed. 

“What’s up with her?” The honor student asks, directing her question to the club director while still keeping an eye on you. As you pass Shiro, you give him a wide girth, your posture slouching slightly.

An amused chuckle resounds through Kyoya. “(Y/n) is scared of children.”

Haruhi’s brows furrow together, and she looks at you again. You are so bubbly and kind, accepting of everyone and everything. For you to not like something as innocent as children is almost hilarious in a way, if it wasn’t so confusing. 

“I was just as surprised as you are when I first figured it out.” Kyoya assured her. “But she finds them incredibly annoying, especially when they aren’t supervised by their parents.” 

“But that’s so unlike her, she’s usually so open.” The brunette debates, remembering how caring and motherly you can be towards the members of the host club. 

Kyoya sighs, glancing at you once more, and Haruhi catches a glimpse of sympathy in his facade. “(Y/n)’s past is more complicated than she makes it seem. When she was younger, her parents made her feel like a burden. She had to rely on them so heavily, being a child and all, and her parents weren’t able to live their lives the way they wanted too.” A chuckle of dark humor travels past his lips. “Because who can travel and do business with a toddler attached to their hip?” Kyoya’s tone is dry as he looks down at Haruhi, whose eyes have lost their mirth. 

“So, psychologically, she feels like she has to avoid kids at all costs. She’s scared to treat them the way her parents treated her.” 

His statement leaves Haruhi even more confused, and a little saddened to hear about your past. “Since when are you a psychiatrist?” 

“I’ve never claimed to be a medical professional.” Kyoya smirks once more. “I’ve known (Y/n) for a long time, and I’ll admit I’ve come to learn how to read people.” 

He shrugs. “Additionally, I know a thing or two about parental issues.” 

The ravenet lifts his gaze again and watches as the boy apprentice calls one of Tamaki’s guests a carp, and as Tamaki tries to comfort his offended guest, Shiro casually walks around, looking for something more interesting after grumbling under his breath.

Kyoya’s jaw clenches from holding back a smile as he follows Shiro’s path. “Would you like to know the irony of the situation?” 

Haruhi nods and aims her brown eyes in the direction of Kyoya’s gaze.

“Because (Y/n) is so kind and open, children are drawn to her.”

As if punctuating the megane’s statement, Shiro drops down into an empty seat next to you, and they both laugh as you stiffen. 

“Man, what a crybaby.” Shiro casually says, resting his elbows on your table as he interrupts your conversation with the guy across from you. 

“You look like you won’t annoy me.” He says to you, and you wince internally. 

You look at him, your (e/c) eyes piercing through him, and Shiro gives a little gasp. You definitely remind him of someone. A girl in his class. She has the same smile that you do.  

Too bad he didn’t know that this smile was forced. “Shiro, you can’t sit here right now. I’m working.” You’re trying to be kind, you really are. You might be uncomfortable around children, but that didn’t give you the right to be rude to them. 

“Who says?” He looks back at you. Your cheeks puff out, and your face takes on a deadpan expression. Your eyes slide back to your laptop as you continue working out the budget, typing up financial plans to save up for some more specialty items for those who are a part of the point system. 

“What are you doing?” Shiro asks, and he sits up on his knees, prying his eyes over your computer. 

As he gets closer, you slide the laptop away from him. He leans even more, and you slide it away. Eventually, he is crawling on the table, scrambling to get a glimpse at your screen.

Biting your cheek to keep from cursing at a kid, you stop typing and pick him up from his armpits, treating him like a radioactive piece of lab equipment, and set him back down at his chair. 

“Stop being nosy, or go find someone else to bother.” You say, firm, but there was no anger in your words. Just exhausted annoyance. 

He huffs, folding his arms and pouting, but he stayed in his seat nonetheless. Your company was somehow less stressful than the king he was observing from your table.

That is, until two gingers came up behind you and wrapped around each shoulder. Like you weren’t already annoyed. 

“So how’s it going, (Y/n)? That’s an adorable little buddy you got there.” They tease you, also knowing your distaste for the young.

The twins laugh at your dismay, and you hunch further over your computer, struggling to focus on the task in front of you. Not with three immature little brats surrounding you. 

“But, Hikaru…” Kaoru suddenly becomes very sheepish, his laughter coming to a halt. You turn slightly to see a blush painting his face, and you roll your eyes in favor of watching your screen. 

Kaoru continues. “Do you wish you had a little brother like Shiro?” 

Stars and moons light up in each guests’ eyes as they watch Hikaru gather a tearful Kaoru in his arms, cradling his head as he looks down on him with dramatic longing. 

“Don’t be silly.” As if on cue, rose petals fall over them, most likely from the ones Renge had installed in the ceiling for moments like this. “I could search the whole globe and I’d never find a better brother than you, Kaoru.” 

“Hikaru…” Kaoru sighs.

Boys and girls all swooned around them as they shouted praises at their brotherly love act, especially after being deprived of it for so long.

But beside you, Shiro scrambled, leaping off his chair and pointing at the two brothers. He tugs on your sleeve, and with more strength than you would expect from a fifth year, pulls you out of your chair. He drags you away from the twins and sets you in front of him like a human shield, pointing at the Hitachiians in disgust.

“What the hell? Their brothers! That makes this totally insectuous!” 

You rip your hand from his grip while you roll your eyes, already exhausted. You’re so used to the twins’ act by now, you forget it takes a while for people to get used too.

You sigh as you try to make your way back to the table. “I think what you meant to say was incestuous.” 

You stop and turn at a grunt from Shiro as Honey jumps on his back, a cute smile on his round face. “Hey Shiro-Chan! You wanna have a piece of cake with me? We’ve got three kinds: chocolate, strawberry, and lime!” 

Manically, Shiro shoves the third year off, and you wince as Honey lands on his butt. “Hey back off! What grade are you in anyway? Why’re you wearing a high school uniform?” 

A shadow looms over him as Honey stands, rubbing his sore backside. You watch as Shiro looks up to see Mori, tall as ever, looking down at him over the bridge of his nose. 

“Something wrong, Mitsukuni?” Moris deep voice swept over the kid, and he backed away, finding refuge behind your legs, much to your dismay. 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Shiro cries. “A little kid like you can’t have a cool older friend like him!”

Mori picks up Honey while you back away from Shiro, turning only to run into Haruhi. Why can’t you just make it the two steps to your seat?

Startled, Haruhi looked up from what she was doing. She grips a fragile tray in her hand, balancing a teapot with snacks that you helped prepare this morning arranged in a small little circle. 

“Sorry Haruhi- oof!” You say as the elementary schooler bumps into you once more, and you take a deep breath before you could explode on the poor kid. 

The honor student peeks behind you and sees Shiro gripping onto your skirt for balance.

“Are you alright?” She says, and both of you face the kid, considering you were awkwardly trapped between them. Might as well become part of the conversation. 

Haruhi leans down so she can be slightly more level with Shiro, and a kind smile traces her features. “I know, it’s kinda hard getting used to all the weirdos around here.”

Her joke puts you a little more at ease. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all. 

“It took me a while to get adjusted to all the craziness, so don’t freak out.” You say, hoping to give the kid some sort of comfort. Your voice doesn’t come out as confident and bright as you would like it, but it was soothing. So A for effort. 

Haruhi nods. “We’re sure you’ll get used to it.” 

You both pause as Shrio’s face becomes wrinkled with concentration. His eyes pin down Haruhi’s face as he studies her, confusing you to no end. Was he listening to anything you were saying?

You try again. “Shiro? Is there something wrong?” 

The kid’s eyes squint at Haruhi a bit more before he opens his mouth, causing your breath to stop in your throat. “Are you a crossdresser?”

You gasp. “Oh no.”

Suddenly, the twins and Tamaki are at your side, Kyoya walking over at a leisurely, but purposeful, pace. They become the Keep-Haruhi’s-Gender-A-Secret committee as Tamaki covers Shiro’s eyes.

“Okay! That’s enough!” The prince declares, chuckling nervously as he tries to direct Shiro away from your best friend, but the student doesn’t budge. “I think Shiro should take care of the tea for us! Don’t ya think?” 

You nod urgently and promptly take the tray from Haruhi’s grasp. The twins form a tag team, reaching out and patting her on the back to assure her of her manliness. 

“Wow, Haruhi, you’re looking extra manly today!”

“Yeah, you’re too macho for tea sets!”

Kyoya arrives at your side, humming in interest. “This kid is smarter than I thought.” 

Your mouth curves in distaste as you move to hand Shiro the tray. But not before you’re able to respond under your breath. “He may be a kid, but he has quite the eye.” The sarcasm couldn’t have been thicker in your tone. 

Trying to be more polite for Shiro, you paste a light grin when you face him. The tea tray extends out in front of you, and you give him a gentle warning. 

“Now be careful with it. It’s pretty heavy.” 

When you pass it to the kid, a crash sounds when he immediately drops the expensive pottery. Your gaze falls to the porcelain that lays shattered at your feet, just like your patience. 

“It’s not my fault I dropped it. It’s your fault because you’re the one who made me take it in the first place.” 

Your hands were frozen out in front of you, still grasping an imaginary tray as you prayed that you were dreaming.

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, mainly to yourself, despite being in the company of the entire host club.

Disbelief flooded your senses at the spoiled audacity of this kid, and your mood deflated even more when you realized that you were the one who had to clean it up. Your hands came up to rub at your face as you turned on your heel, heading for the broom closet. Baring your teeth behind a closed grimace, you kept your profanities to yourself as you calmly walked away from the little devil.

Throughout the years, you had come to realize that Music Room #3 was larger than it seemed. Tucked into corners of the clubroom were closets, hallways, and cabinets that were hidden in plain sight, and once you found them, you couldn’t figure out how you had missed it. The broom closet was one of these rooms. Past the kitchen and to the left used to be a door you had never opened. But at some point, the twin’s curiosity got the better of them, and a vast storage space was discovered. 

So, briskly, you made your way to the privacy of the broom closet, already a little emotionally overwhelmed from this aspiring new host, even if he had been here for only an hour or so. 

Once you’re faced with the entrance to the broom closet, you sigh, letting your head rest against the white paint on the wood of the door. Eyes closed, you will your bubbling anxiety to simmer, but it doesn’t really go away until you feel another presence lean against the door beside you.

“That tea set was one-hundred-thousand yen. I’ll have to add that to your debt.” A familiar voice resounds within the confined space of this hallway, erasing the rest of your tension.

Leave it to Kyoya to find the humor in your dismay. 

“And what debt would that be?” You ask, opening your eyes to see his shoulder pressed against the closet door, a smug look with a touch of softness painting his face. “It seems I only owe you favors, Ootori.” 

The club’s director hums, a teasing light sparking in his gray iris. “Then I suppose you owe me two favors.” 

The heartbeat in your throat is no longer caused by anxiety and you scoff, annoyingly enamored by the banter you two share. 

Motioning him away and moving towards the door handle, a monotone response leaves your lips. “What a joy.” 

With a creak, the door opens to reveal various multiple cleaning supplies. At the esteemed Ouran Academy, even the janitor’s closet is a walk-in space. Reaching above your head, you pull a small silver chain, turning on the lights and walking towards the back corner of the room. 

Shelves on the walls are illuminated by the bright light of a fixture in the center of the ceiling. Different tools are organized on all levels, while the larger of them hang on the walls in front of you. You scan the room before stepping in, trying to get a better look when you realize that what you were looking for wasn’t in its usual place. 

“I could’ve sworn the hand-held broom was back here.” You say, pantomiming the kind of tool you were looking for, as all you could see hanging from the walls were mops and brooms taller than you were. 

“You mean this?” His voice projects behind you, and you spin to see Kyoya holding a small brush and a dust pan. Gratefully, you smile and reach for it, only for him to move it slightly out of your reach.

“Kyo?”

“Are you alright?” He asks, and you blink. It takes a second to process the change in mood, but a small smirk appears on your face nonetheless

“Are you worried about me or something?” He deadpans, and his concern is replaced with a slight regret of ever being associated with you.

The ravenet crosses his arms, the small broom hanging over the crick of his elbow. “I am simply aware that your emotions might be a little more than negative at the moment.” 

You give him a ‘really?’ look, but he meets it, peaking over his frames for an answer. 

Taking a deep breath, you give in. “I’m fine. Kids just put me a little on edge.” 

“It seemed like you were about to rip the poor child’s head off.”

“I know, I know.” You wince at your previous behavior. Apparently, as much as you tried to hide them, your feelings still managed to be sewed onto your sleeve. “Honestly, being in here helps me cool off a little.”

With a classic eyebrow quirk, Kyoya turns his wrist, holding out the small broom in front of him for you to take. But when you take it, he doesn’t move out of your way. 

The megane studies you before pushing himself off the wall and reaching towards your face. Delicately, his pale fingers push a runaway hair out of your face, tucking the strand behind your ear. His light touch causes something to bloom in your chest, and he takes comfort in the way you don’t push him away. 

The light touch of his fingertips morphs into a palm resting on the side of your face, your cheekbones warm from the pressure. Your flustered confusion manifests in a slight drop in your jaw when he draws in a breath, adjusting his hand to tilt your head slightly. 

“I realize that this may be a stressful situation for you.” Kyoya says, and in the small closest space, his quiet tone bounces off the walls and settles into the hollows of your rib cage. “But I hope I can be a place of comfort for you, if you need it.” 

It takes you a while to find your breath, but the oxygen rushes in soon enough, pulling along a fluttery feeling by a romantic ribbon. 

“Thank you, Kyo.” 

A soft smile etches into his handsome features as time stops for a moment, allowing the two of you to bask in the other’s presence, a treasure that is always hidden in plain sight, but doesn’t present itself often. 

That is, until a slam is heard from outside your little energetically filled bubble. 

Your mind is given whiplash as you are yanked out of the dazed feeling Kyoya always seems to give you, and harshly released into the present. Kyoya follows your lead as he spins his head, trying to peer his vision around the corner.

“What the hell?” You ask, trailing off as you quickly circle around Kyoya, shoving your shoulders together before dashing off towards whatever made that disrupting noise. 

In your dust of sunlight, Kyoya stands. He doesn’t follow you in favor of pulling out his notebook. He flips to the most recent page and scans it, finding the checklist he started at the beginning of the day. 

In his neat handwriting reads: Head Tilt. 

Shaking his head, Kyoya goes back to that moment when his hand touched your cheek, sighing at the electricity he felt surge through his fingertips. Maybe he didn’t copy Tamaki’s movements well enough?

Next to it, he writes Ineffective before pulling the chain above him, darkening the small space. 

As you turn the corner from the closet, you nearly drop the small broom onto the polished tile when you find the newest addition to your club trapped in a giant metal cage. 

“What’s going on here?!” The kid shouts. “Why did you put me in a cage?”

“Yeah!” You say as you stomp over to the group that has now been made around the poor child, making your presence known. “And where did it come from?”

Haruhi is also in awe, speaking through a dropped jaw. “Isn’t this supposed to be a music room?”

Shiro bangs on the bars as they ring in defiance. “This is no way to treat your loyal apprentice! Now let me outta this cage!”

“Jesus Christ, I was gone for two seconds.” You say next to Tamaki as you watch the elementary school kid bar his teeth at the seven of you as Kyoya joins the commotion. 

“His attitude was in absolute distaste and he insulted Haruhi. Drastic actions call for drastic measures.” Tamaki states, arms folded in a scold towards the boy. 

The blonde grabs a cup of tea that was freshly made by Haruhi before all of this began and sips on it, completely brushing off the kid’s whines. 

“I will not let you out of that cage until you’ve learned your lesson. I made you my apprentice because I thought you were serious about becoming a host, but I guess I was wrong.”

Another cry comes from Shiro, and sympathy pulls uncomfortably in your chest. “I am serious! I am totally serious!”

His pleas seem to fall onto deaf ears as the King continues to ignore him, so he tries again. Your brow crinkles at the tears that glisten in his eyes. Maybe this was too much. 

“I want you to teach me how to make a woman happy!” With desperation and defeat, he slumps to his knees, his knuckles white from his hard grasp on the prison bars. “I’m gonna run out of time.”

You share a look with Haruhi, both of you catching that brief example of vulnerability while Shiro takes another wet gasp. “Please, won’t you teach me?” The boy looks up, still on his knees. 

“You’re a host because you like girls. You like bringing a smile to a girl’s face.” The kid swallows, not having the proper adult experience in controlling strong emotions like these. “That’s why you do it right? Please, won’t you teach me to be like you?”

Tamaki still continues to give Shiro the cold shoulder. Your discomfort for the child is momentarily erased as you come to Shiro’s aid. 

“You should help him, Tamaki.” You say, and his violet eyes meet yours in suspicion. “After all, you are a genius. The King at making women swoon. You’re the only person that could help him.”

Tamaki drops the tea cup, but he skips over the shattered pieces towards Shiro with stars in his eyes. At least you already brought a broom from the closet. 

“Well, you may be a brat, but I admire your ambition!” The prince exclaims with eagerness in his voice, his pride overflowing more than the tea that was previously in his cup. “So, I’ll teach you! You know Shiro, you and I are so much alike!”

You roll your eyes as Tamaki starts hugging himself, and the twins saunter up to each side of you. 

“That poor kid…” Kaoru starts.

“...He doesn’t know what he just got himself into.” Hikaru finishes. 

Chuckling, you roll your shoulders, feigning annoyance as you shove them off. They’re laughing too, but they twist their heads, trying to see if anyone was within earshot of the three of you. 

“Too bad you weren’t here to see the shit Shiro pulled to get him landed in a cage.” The mischievous twin states, his golden eyes locking with Kaoru’s in another spurt of twin telepathy. 

“Yeah, wonder what took you so long in that broom closet? Didn’t we see Kyoya go in there with you?” Kaoru states, and relishes in the blush that quickly rises to your cheekbones. They start snickering at your burning face, but their humor is interrupted as you yank on each one of their ears, crouching down and pulling them with you. 

Your voice is a hushed whisper as you try your best to not bring any attention to yourselves. “If you guys don’t cut it out, I’m gonna call your mother and have her cease your weekly allowance for a month.” You tighten your hold on them and they wince. “Ms. Hitachiian and I are very close.” 

They roll their eyes once you release them and dust off your skirt. “Geez, since when was your grip so strong?” They whine in unison as they rub their red ears. 

You smirk as you walk past them to tune back into the conversation, serving them a fake smile. “It’s powered by my pure annoyance for the two of you.” 

Rolling their eyes for the second time in a row, the three of you make it back to the host club’s shenanigans. 

When Tamaki’s voice comes back into earshot, his tone has taken one akin to a teacher. “If this is really what you want, Shiro, then you’ll have to figure out how to use the material you already have.”

His innocence is highlighted when Shiro scrunches his eyebrows together. “What does that mean?”

The click of a pen is heard as Kyoya opens his book, turning to an earlier page. You scan it to see all of the host’s names, along with the advantages and disadvantages of each persona that you all hold. You were pleased to see that your category was recently added in a different color of ink, the few sentences suggesting that there was more to learn about how you can contribute to the club’s image. 

“You see, here at Ouran Academy, our policy is to use our individual personality traits to meet the needs of our guests.” The ravenet speaks, a tiredness twisting into his tone as if he’s had to explain this exact thing several times over. 

He gestures to Tamaki, who puffs out his chest proudly. “For example, there’s Tamaki, who is the Princely-Type.” Kyoya’s open palm then moves to each of you as you are introduced, seemingly proud of the system he has put together. 

“Then, there’s the Strong Type, The Boy-Lolita Type, The Little-Devil Type, The Cool-Type, and the Natural-Type. It’s all about variety.” Finally, he points to you. 

“And now our group is complete with the addition of (Y/n), the Sweet-Type.”

The brown-haired honor student points to herself, clueless of the nickname that had unknowingly been given to her. “The Natural?” You chuckle to yourself at her question.

Kyoya continues, looking up from his journal. “It would seem now that we have the perfect blend of characteristics. So it’s going to be hard to find a new one for Shiro.” 

“If you go by his age, he would be the Boy-Lolita type.” You think out loud, the logical side of your brain taking over.”

Honey’s eyes wells up, his pupils glistening with sudden tears as he looks at you. “Is he gonna replace me?” 

Before you can comfort him, another sudden noise pierces the air. Machinery crashes together with tremendous power, but unfortunately it wasn’t loud enough to silence an annoying voice tearing into the host club. 

“Oh, come on! Is that all you’ve got?”

Your stomach ties in knots at the familiar voice, and you spin on your heel. 

Laughing nervously, you wave to the rest of the host club. “Sorry guys! Last minute robotics club meeting, gotta go!” You briskly walk towards the front door. But before you can make it to the large double doors, the floor below you begins to open. 

Wobbling on the edge, you nearly crash into the tiered platform rising out of the tile, but strong hands steady you just in time. Mori pulls you back onto stable ground, but as a pink bow reveals itself from the depths of the music room, you wish you would’ve fallen anyway. 

Renge stands on three metal circles that get smaller as your vision rises, each acting as a step as she descends into the host club. You suddenly feel emotionally worn out, all of your patience draining at the sight of her sickly sweet smile. 

“I need to sit down.” You tell Mori in a lower tone of voice than usual, rolling your eyes at her victory laugh as she makes her way over to the host club. 

The otaku sighs dramatically. “Sorry to interrupt gentlemen, but what’s with the lackluster character analysis? I must say I’m quite disappointed. I thought I taught you better.” 

You sink deeper into your chair when Haruhi appears at your side, her tolerance equally spent. 

“What’s up with this place?” She whines. “I thought it was supposed to be a music room?”

“A Renge-free music room.” You grumpily add on.

Tamaki sighs and folds his arms at Renge’s statement. “Alright then, Miss Renge, how would you work Shiro into our collection of characters?”

“Hmm.” She taps her fingers against her chin cutely as her eyes scan the room, landing her gaze on you, pinning you against the cushions.

Renge smirked and sighed. “First of all, I think you have too much variety. (Y/n) sullies what a host club is supposed to be!” 

Grasping her hands together, her eyes shape into hearts as she twirls. “A room full of beautiful boys! Take her out of the club, put her back on sole errand boy duties, take her away from my Haruhi.” She stops twirling and points to the boys. “That’s what I would do first.” 

On the other end of her finger, the host club deadpans. 

Haruhi chuckles next to you. “Wait until she finds out I’m not a boy.” 

Kyoya steps out from the group. “(Y/n) will not be leaving the host club. If you don’t have anything that’s actually useful, then feel free to escort yourself out, Renge.”

Renge pouts. “So mean.” But her demeanor completely shifts once again, from an annoying whiny spoiled brat, to an annoying loud spoiled brat. 

“Listen up!” Your head reels from the whiplash of her emotions. “There are plenty of girls out there who have a thing for younger boys, or boys with baby faces. These girls are considered Shota fans.”

She begins to pace, walking in a pattern similar to a military general commanding her troops. “Now shota can be a broad category, so it’s important to know that the genre can be broken down into many different smaller categories.”

You hear scribbling and scoff as you see Kyoya taking notes on Renge’s mini lesson. 

“If I had to pick a category for this little boy,” Renge contemplates as she walks in front of Shiro’s vision and crouches down, scanning the poor boy from head to toe. “Then he would be the Naughty-Boy Type for sure!”

A creaking sound emits from the ceiling as the cage rises, disappearing into the room as if it was never there. A now freed Shiro points to himself, confused.

“The Naughty Type?” He asks.

Renge rushes him, pulling a whistle out of the neckline of her dress, and blowing it. “Now to be the Naughty Type, you have to wear shorts!”

“He’s already wearing shorts.” You point out as you stand, a headache budding behind your eye sockets. How you were still sane with a kid and Renge in the same room, you couldn’t say. 

Too focused to insult you, Renge blows her whistle again, and the noise ricochets off of your skull. “Okay! Then, you gotta have bumps and bruises! Give him a couple scars!”

Skilled in the makeup department, Hikaru and Kaoru get to work, painting on scratches and securing some bandaids to Shiro’s body as you make your way towards the ruckus. 

Too soon, Renge slaps Shiro on the back, making that same damn whistle noise. “Now run like a spoiled child. Make it reckless!”

Flabbergasted, Shiro sprints to one side of the room, flicking his heels behind him and staying low to the ground, throwing off his balance and making a messy sprint. Renge watches as he runs suicides for a minute or so before she interrupts with another blow, catching his attention. 

“Now I want you to trip and make it big!” Shiro does as he’s told, and takes a nasty fall to the tile. It looked like it hurt.

“Jesus Christ, Renge, he’s just a kid.” You say as you rush to him, grabbing the spot under his arm and pulling him up gently. “Are you okay, Shiro-chan?”

Renge laughs victoriously. “Now say your catchphrase!”

Shiro simply smirks, wiping the dust from his mouth that came from the unswept floor. His voice comes out scruffy and forced. “No big deal, it was nothin’.”

Realizing you’d been played, you promptly drop the kid and walk away. “Last time I help a kid like you.”

But Renge squeals. “That was perfect, Shiro!” 

Tamaki claps behind her. “That was outstanding! I never knew you were such a great coach, Renge!”

You rolled your eyes and took a stance between Kyoya and Mori, the land of non-expressive annoyance. 

Shiro stands, and when he lifts his head, he has the same look that all children have when they are frustrated, or can’t understand why something is happening. 

His brow furrows, and there’s a desperate shine to his eyes as his mouth parts in disbelief before his entire facade shifts into anger. 

“You’re idiots!” He shouts. “You’re all a bunch of idiots!”

Before any of you can stop him, he starts towards the door. “I’ve had enough of you people!” Shiro’s voice drops to a sad tone before he steps out of the club room. “This is so stupid, none of this is ever gonna make her happy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Who’s her?”

But Tamaki is calling after the kid. “Wait, Shiro, we haven’t taught you how to apply the techniques you’ve learned yet!”

It was too late. Shiro had left Renge’s crappy teaching in his dust, along with a hint to a secret he has clearly been hiding. 

‘None of this is ever gonna make her happy!’

Completely ignoring Shiro’s feelings, Tamaki marches back to the group. “I can’t believe he ditched us because he didn’t like the lesson. What a selfish little brat.”

“It takes one to know one.” Haruhi says, and you both snicker as Tamaki whines. 

“Haruhi! Mon ami!” He runs to hug Haruhi and cries, but the noise is swallowed by the sound of the platforms turning. You spin to see Renge slowly lowering herself back into the floor, the machine descending into wherever it came from.

“You’re leaving?” You ask, maybe a little too hopeful.

She sighs. “I swear, young boys are good for nothing. I went through all that trouble, and he quits!” Renge throws her arms up in an exasperated expression just before the tile closes around her, placing her out of sight and out of mind. 

The air in the clubroom seems suddenly calmer, for some reason.

Haruhi breaks herself from the prince’s grasp. “Listen Senpai, weren’t you listening to what he said?” 

Tamaki stops trying to grab her and pull her to him to tilt his head, humming in question. 

Her brown eyes meet yours as Haruhi silently asks for your support, considering you heard the same things she did. 

“He said ‘I’m gonna run out of time.’” You clarify as you make your way to her. “What do you think he means by that?”

Haruhi gets a thoughtful look on her face, her eyes drawing downward to focus on the tile that apparently holds many secrets. 

But soon she answers with a quiet confidence. “I think, maybe, it’s a girl.”

Giving her a confirming nod, you think back to how desperate a reckless little boy was to take instruction from a bunch of uptight strangers. But you guessed that nothing was a better motivator than love. 

Why Kyoya let Tamaki make up these ridiculous plans was beyond him, but here he was nonetheless. In the dark, pressing himself against a wall of a school he hasn’t stepped foot in in over a decade. He rolled his eyes as the idiotic trio couldn’t stop themselves peaking out from the door they hid behind, watching as Haruhi and Honey pranced around in grade school outfits, Haruhi’s being more revealing than was needed. 

“You think the fact that Tamaki practically forced her to wear that outfit would reveal a little secret crush or two, wouldn’t you say?” 

Ah yes, you were here as well. Crowded against him in another conveniently small closet where your shoulders were pushed together and the air smelled a little sweeter from your presence. He felt you chuckle against him at your comment, and soaked in the sound as he shook his head. 

“Those two are too stubborn and ignorant to interpret their behavior as anything other than a close friendship.” He whispered.

Without light, it was hard to make out how close your face actually was to his, but you were close enough that he could see a few features in the shadows. The shape of your jawline, your nose, your jewelry that reflected the small sliver of light that was streaming from Tamaki’s peephole.

You were close enough to make his heart race.  

His response expelled another small laugh from you, causing a small smirk to rest on his face. 

You peep out the little crack in the door and shake your head. “Why did they even bother with those disguises?” You ask while Kyoya brings out his notebook. “They stick out like a sore thumb.”

The ravenet hums as he flips to the first page with some open space and begins to draw small spirals. He couldn’t bring out his phone since it would be too bright, so doodling seemed to be the next best conqueror of boredom. 

“Oh ho, (Y/n), never doubt me.” Tamaki says in front of you. He’s crouched, and there’s a creepy glint in his usual violet irises. “There’s a reason, a damn good reason.”

“Gross.” You chide next to Kyoya, watching suspiciously as he rubs his hands together like a madman. 

The twins sigh next to him, and Kyoya rolls his eyes at the drool that leaks from their mouths. “Isn’t she the cutest?” They admire, watching Haruhi being pulled around the elementary school by Honey’s direction.

“Just because she is helping you infiltrate the school and look for Shiro, doesn’t mean you can ogle at her the whole time.” You say, and Kyoya’s shoulder feels colder when you move away from him to wack all three of them. 

Tamaki barely feels the impact, the evil glimmer in his eye turning into adoration. “Look at her in that little mini skirt! Haruhi looks like a little doll!” He whisper-squeals.

You roll your eyes and hit him again for good measure. 

“So basically, you just wanted to see her dressed like that.” Kyoya says as you slowly make your way back to your spot in the dark. He reaches a hand out and you take it, feeling a small buzz in his palm while he gently guides you back to the wall.

The twins turn back, and the megane watches as their eyes drop to your intertwined hands and then back up to him. Kyoya lets go and rolls his shoulders, emitting a practiced nonchalant aura around him. 

But the red heads smirked anyway, and he braced himself. 

“You wouldn’t let us dress up (Y/n) like that, so Haruhi was our next best option…” Kaoru whispered, raising the right corner of his mouth. 

“Let us enjoy this, Shadow King.” Hikaru finishes, the left corner of his lips mirroring his brother’s.

Kyoya ticked his jaw, not bothering to look at your reaction. Not like he could see it anyway. 

Thankfully, there wasn’t time for you to reply when Haruhi and Honey walked into a classroom at the end of a long hallway, moving out of sight of the host club. 

“We need to follow them.” Kyoya looked at another dark shape across from him when Mori spoke. From where Kyoya could see, he was leaning up against the wall, keeping a watchful eye. 

At the stoic’s words, the club files out of the closet. You stretch next to him, sighing as you both are released from another small closet space. 

“Is this your elementary school?” You ask beside him, and he looks down at you over his glasses. The two of you had fallen behind the rest of the group, and he watched as you looked at the walls full of trophies and pictures, appreciating the memories. 

He hums, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “It is.”

“I bet you were kind of a nerd.” You say and he rolls his eyes. Kyoya thinks back to those times where he sat at a cafeteria studying rather than enjoying the period with friends. At the time, that’s what he preferred, but now he could barely imagine what lunch would be like without the chaos of the host club. 

He supposed he would miss it. 

“As were you, I assume.” Kyoya replies while turning his head to look down one of the corridors. Classrooms bustled inside and nostalgia hit him like a truck, remembering what it was like to be about a foot shorter, roaming the halls silently and carefully just as he did now. 

A whack on his shoulder brings him back to the present, and he sees you scoffing at him for what seemed to be the hundredth time today. And then that scoff turns into a smile. 

There wasn’t much that could incite an obvious emotional reaction from the megane. While there was quite a bit that could make him feel something, usually anger or annoyance, an apparent expression of contentedness and joy was rare to come by for him. 

From the mixture of nostalgia and love, he feels a smile bubbling behind his lips, the corners twitching from the restraint of holding it back. The usual knot in his chest is unwound, falling instead to the bottom of his stomach, the strings feathering slowly and tickling the muscles beneath his abdomen. 

He is too distracted, something that has never truly described him before, to realize that they've made it to the end of the hallway. Or to realize that a door has opened up from a corridor behind them. Or the gasp that sounded off in the distance. 

The classroom that the club has stopped in front of set off another round of bursts. This was his old music classroom. He had played the flute for a time in elementary school before his dad made him drop it to focus on his academics. This was his old music teacher’s classroom.

Kyoya calmly made his way to the front of the crowd, leading them behind Haruhi, who had stepped in first to examine everything. 

“Hm, there’s nobody here.” She states, and everyone else files in. Or, at least he thought it was everyone. 

Tamaki enters the space, a hand to his chin. “So the kid’s classroom is empty, is it?”

But instead of being curious, the twins look as elated as Kyoya feels. “Man, this takes me back.” They say in unison. Hikaru rounds one of the desks, bending over to look on the underside of the wood. 

“I wonder if my doodles are still on my desk.” 

Another hum emits from the club’s director, except this one was dismissive instead of amusing. “Doubtful. The school changes the desks out every year.”

When he came back to his second year of flute lessons, he had thought the same thing when secretly observing each desk, looking for the tell tale sign of spirals. They had been wiped clean. 

The twins, conventionally, ignore him and continue spelling off nonsense. “Let's check out the cafeteria after this!” Hikaru exclaims, with Kaoru nodding along with him.

“I wanna see the old gym!”

“Great idea, Kaoru!” Tamaki chimes in, still looking around. But unlike the rest of the host club, there wasn’t the glint of nostalgia in his stance. Kyoya’s mouth draws into a thin line before continuing to slowly walk the classroom. 

Before you, Tamaki was Kyoya’s only source of this peaceful feeling. Even if he had to fight his way in, the blond prince had proven that people could and would take the time to truly get to know someone like Kyoya. So when Tamaki had opened up to him months later about where he had come from, Kyoya knew that he needed to be there for the prince. The same way that the prince had been there for the Shadow King. 

Haruhi cleared her throat, breaking the ravenet from his thoughts. A vein was popping from her forehead in an attempt to control her frustration. 

“If you’re just gonna barge in here like that, then why did we wear these stupid disguises?” 

Tamaki flicks his wrist, ignoring her while the brothers laugh. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Hikaru assured, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” Kaoru agreed. “There’s no one here to catch us.”

Ironically, at that moment, a pair of footsteps was heard walking down the hallway. 

Like rats, the host club scattered. Heads ducked underneath desks, even if some fit more awkwardly than others. Kyoya adjusted his legs around the weirdly placed support bars of the table as the footsteps got closer, two muffled voices becoming clearer as the intruders grew near. 

Weird, Kyoya thought, to label them as intruders when I’m the one hiding with a metal chair leg stabbing into my back. 

“Is everyone hidden?” A cute whisper sounded in the classroom as Honey checked to make sure that everyone found a hiding spot. Always analyzing, Kyoya scanned from his uncomfortable position, taking a sort of attendance. He checked off a list of names in his mind to the beat of shoes against tile, the assumed teacher inching closer and closer every second. 

Silence followed as the footsteps stopped right outside the door, and Kyoya realized he was missing someone. 

A very important someone. 

Doing his best to keep calm, he double checked. 

Tamaki, Mori, Honey, Haruhi, the twins, and-

Where were you?

His collar felt uncomfortable against his neck when he angled his body slightly so that he could see farther down the line of desks. Catching the attention of Haruhi, who had picked the desk right beside him, he asked her if she knew where you were.

You and Haruhi  had grown so close in these past few months, if you hadn’t told him where you were going, then certainly you would let her know-

“I thought she was with you?” 

Confusion pulsed inside of his rapidly beating heart as his jaw clenched too tightly. The tip of his canine scratched the tissue of his lip as he rewinded the past few moments. His nostalgia had distracted him from those short moments between the closet and now, which had felt much longer in the moment. 

As he looks deep into his memory, he swallows, remembering a small gasp emitting from where you were beside him before he took the lead into the classroom. 

But before he could start the search party, the door to the teacher’s classroom opened, an airy laugh filling the space.

“This is my classroom.” A deep voice speaks in (n/l) as the two pairs of footsteps file onto the tile, and the host club instinctively pulls their feet closer to their bodies, making them as small as possible. “I just need to grab some sheet music, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Wow, Mr. Salling.” Another voice compliments in the same language as she begins to walk between the aisles. “This is much better than the classroom back home.”

Kyoya meets Haruhi’s shocked gaze across the way. That was your voice. How in God’s name had you become acquainted with a teacher? All while not being detained by the school?

Who the ravenet assumes to be Mr. Salling laughs, a deep but quiet chuckle that was nothing other than genuine. “Yes. While I loved what I did back in (c/n), opportunities like this don’t come around very often.”

“You definitely deserved it, though! The music room was never the same without you.” You said as you continued walking. It sounded like you were dragging your palm against the desks as you slowly passed, taking in the new environment.

Black dress shoes came into Kyoya’s vision, and the moment of freedom was fleeting when he recognized the Ouran Academy sigil on the heel. 

Shooting his hand out from beneath the desk, he laid his hand on the top of your foot. Tapping it twice with the pale pad of his fingers, he smirked as you jumped a little before looking down. (E/c) eyes met with his gray ones, and he watched fear, shock, and then annoyance pass through them as you noticed little tufts of hair scattered under the desks.  

“(Y/n)?” The (n/l) speaker asks as your teacher notices your pause, and Kyoya raises a firm finger to his lips. 

“Yes! Yes, sorry.” You cleared your throat as you quickly, but calmly made your way back to Mr. Salling. “I was just still processing that I was able to see you! What a small world!” 

Another laugh emits from him. “It is nice to be able to speak (n/l) outside of the house.” Mr. Salling’s feet shift as he adjusts his weight when leaning on his desk. “What have you been up to all these years? Still practicing piano?”

“Oh, god no.” You scoff. “We both know I gave that up years ago.”

Even under the stress of the situation, Kyoya takes the risk of opening his journal to write down the fact that you had taken piano lessons. 

You and your teacher take a moment to laugh a little more before it dies down. “I actually have a club that I joined that I’m really enjoying so far!” You lean back on your heels with a sigh. “Even if the people I work with can be pretty annoying.”

“Sounds exciting.” Mr. Salling says knowingly. The twins and Tamaki share offended glances. 

You walk towards him again as you change the subject. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your students. I know you mentioned you didn’t have much free time.”

From where Kyoya can see, the brown shoes of your old teacher turn towards the clock, and then turn frantically as the megane hears papers rustling together. 

“You’re absolutely right, Ms (L/n). I’m sorry to leave you, but my students are waiting for me in the practice room.” Salling rushes as he goes around his desk to retrieve the last of his things. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay here until I get back, but it will probably be a while. If I don’t see you again, call my office. We can catch up over dinner with my husband.”

Your shoes follow him out, then stop by the doorway. “That sounds perfect! It was amazing seeing you, Mr. Salling!”

Down the hall, his footsteps are growing quieter as he calls out his reply. “Please, call me Esben.”

When the music teacher from the past is out of reach, the soles of your shoes spin as you close the door behind you. 

“He’s gone.” The sweet voice you were using with Esben dropped many octaves as you alerted the bodies under the desks. The hosts crawled out of their hiding spots, stretching their torsos from the longevity of unnatural folding. 

When Kyoya rises, you’re folding your arms across your chest. 

“Where were you?” Haruhi asks.

“Where was I?” Your eyebrows raise in disbelief as you scoff. “I turned around for one second to say hello to one of my old teachers, but when I looked back, you guys were gone!” 

A chuckle follows your amazed tone. “Of course you guys were hiding in the one classroom I just happened to follow Esben into.”

Haruhi shakes her head, but is satisfied with your answer. “So what do you think we should do now?” She asks as the hosts begin to explore the classroom. 

Mumbling voices fill the classroom as the hosts pair together and split up, knowing that this place was as good of a start as any to begin their search for answers. 

Kyoya makes his way over to you, the light in his eyes darker than usual. 

You smile at him as he approaches. “What’s up?”

“You left.” He realizes his tone comes out flat as he speaks to you, and he tries his best to inflect it differently. “Without telling me?”

Another small laugh passes your lips. “Do I need to ask permission?”

“Not necessarily.” Kyoya turns, and he feels you naturally begin to walk at his side as you both scan the numerous pictures on the walls of the classroom. It feels right. “I’m just disappointed I wasn’t invited on your rogue mission.”

“Was that a joke?” Your finger pokes lightly into his shoulder, and he can’t fight back the smirk that appears on his lips at your playful voice. “Did Kyoya Ootori just make a joke?”

The ravenet jolts his shoulder, shrugging you off lightly, and scoffs when you act offended. “Get away from me.”

You laugh again, and the constricting knot in his chest loosens. There was a time in a certain private dressing room where he wasn’t close enough to help you. When you disappeared this time, that feeling of panic surfaced too suddenly, crescendoing into something monstrous and consuming. 

But you came back, and that was what mattered. You were your own woman, and could take care of yourself, but he still wanted to be with you, in case you ever needed him. 

“Here’s something interesting.” You muse as he snaps out of his daze. He sees you standing in front of another picture hanging up on the wall. 

“What did you find?” He asks, making his way to your side while eyeing the picture in a golden frame. 

Kyoya’s gaze softens as he processes the image. Shiro sits at a grand piano, a happy smile on his face. His fingers are dancing across the keys, but they aren’t alone as another set of hand rests next to them. Delicate fingers belong to a girl sitting next to him, a happy blush across her cheeks as they play and talk, joy seeping through the captured memory. 

You hum next to him, and Kyoya sees an expression similar to his on your features.

“He may be a pain in the ass, but it seems he’s found the thing he loves doing.” You say dreamily as you zone in on Shiro’s content face. “And the person he loves doing it with.” 

(E/c) orbs meet gray as you look at him then, and those words combined with the emotion in your eyes conduct an orchestra in Kyoya’s chest, his heart beating to the melody it creates. 

The look lasts longer than it was meant to, but it’s broken as the rest of the host club gathers around to look at the photo. 

“Wow, is that Shiro-chan?” Honey asks next to you, taking Kyoya away from his sweet (e/c) oasis as you nod.

“I’ve never seen him look so sweet. It’s nice to see him enjoying himself.” Haruhi says on the other side of you, and Kyoya focuses on the image again.

“It seems that he is in the classical music club. His teacher must be Mr. Salling, the man (Y/n) met earlier.” The ravenet states, and the rest of the class nods. 

“Let’s see if we can find him.” You say, and with that the club pours out of the space, everyone staying together this time around. 

Now, the eight of you watch from outside the window of a classroom, trying your best to stay out of sight. It was creepy, yes, but the club’s curiosity on this new side of Shiro was overwhelming, even Mori looked interested as you watched Shiro sit on a chair in his classroom. 

The host club gathered closer toward the window when the same girl from the photo made her way over to him, a blush on her face as she clutched sheet music in her hands. 

Her voice is cute and high, and she stutters when she speaks to him. “Excuse me, Takaoji? I-I’m sorry, but have y-you been practicing the new piece that Sensei gave us?”

When Shiro looks at her, there are no daggers, no downward glances. Just warmth. “The new piece? Not really…”

She perks up at the opportunity. “If you want, I can show it to you! Do you wanna come play it with me?” The little girl gestures to a grand piano near the far wall of the classroom, the sun reflected off the elegant, black exterior. 

Shiro looks, and the warmth is replaced with a quiet sadness. “No thanks,” he says to her, his eyes meeting hers with less joy than before, “you go ahead. After all, there’s only one grand piano. You should use it, Kamishiro.”

The little girl’s disappointment rests in her shoulders as they droop slightly, but she keeps a kind smile. “Thank you, I will then! But if you want to join me, just let me know.” Kamishiro says before giggling and making her way to the large instrument. 

As she places the sheet music on the stand and settles in front of the keys, Shiro’s eyes follow her the whole time. It’s even hard for the club to look away from her as she begins to play. Her fingers dance gracefully over the keys, showcasing the skill, talent, and love that she holds for her art. The hosts watch as she sways with each crescendo, falling into muscle memory and contentment as she plays. 

A ding from a bell is heard, the sound interrupting the host club’s trance with this little girl, as another one steps out from the hallway. The child seems more bubbly than Kamishiro as she dances out of the room, into the hallway, only to pause at the sight of eight random teenagers looking like they just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Her innocence is practiced as she shrugs and keeps walking, sensing no apparent danger, but Tamaki stops her politely. 

“Excuse me, mademoiselle.”

“Huh?” The girl stops, only to see a white rose in her face. Her eyes grow wide and happy as she takes it from the handsome prince, and looks up at him with her full attention. 

“I’ve never seen a rose more beautiful than you, my dear.” The little girl gasps while you cringe internally. If someone had talked to younger you that way, let alone a stranger, you probably would’ve either crawled into yourself or bolted away at the speed of light. 

The prince continues. “I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the young lady playing the piano. Do you know her?” He says in a gentle tone, and you soften slightly at the interaction, feeling your soft spot for Tamaki grow as he interacts with the young girl. You imagine you can’t be the only one feeling it. 

The young girl perks up, happy to help. “That’s Hina Kamishiro!”

“Her name is Hina?” Tamaki asks, still gentle in his inquiry. 

She suddenly gets serious. “That’s right, but you better not fall in love with her.” 

A small chuckle emits itself from the prince’s mouth. “Why not?”

“Didn’t you know?” The small girl asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Hina has to move away soon. Her dad just got a new job in Germany, so they have to move there at the end of the week.” 

You and Kyoya meet eyes, both of you connecting this recent piece of information to all of Shiro’s previous actions. It made perfect sense. 

“What are you idiots doing here?!”

A deeper, but still pre-pubescent, voice interrupts their conversation, and the hosts look to see Shiro in the doorway of the classroom. He walks up to the eight of you, ignoring the girl with the white rose. “I want you to leave immediately!”

But Tamaki is not stunned. Instead, after a moment to think, Tamaki reaches down and scoops up the younger kid, Mr. Salling completely oblivious to the actions happening outside of his practice room. After throwing Shiro over his shoulder, Tamaki leads the host club out of the school. Trudging along, you drag your feet, unenthused about having a kid back in the music room. 

The soft tone that Tamaki used with the little girl was gone when they got back to the clubroom. Heaving Shiro from off his shoulder, the kid bounces on the couch, shock inhibiting him from speaking. 

“Tamaki, what are you-” You were about to scold him for tossing Shiro around like a sack, no matter how funny it was, but the prince cut you off, disappointment and anger twisting through his words like vines. 

“What is your problem, you big idiot?!” Shiro yells, his voice cracking slightly from the volume.

Tamaki huffs, his eyebrows creasing with restrained emotion. “I’m sorry, but you’re the idiot! You said that you wanted me to teach you how to make women happy, but that’s not it, is it? You’re not concerned with the happiness of just any woman.”

You jumped in, catching onto where Tamaki was going with this. “You’ve got your sights set on one woman in particular. You only care about Hina Kamishiro.”

Tamaki moved to kneel in front of Shiro, taking on a sort of brotherly aura. “Listen Shiro, I know I told you it’s the job of a host to make every guest happy, but when you care for someone, you must find the courage to express what is in your heart!”

Your head turned as Tamaki stood again, a determined look in his eyes as his words resonated throughout the host club. “You have to tell her how you feel! You didn’t come to me wanting to be a full-fledged host, you wanted to be a full-fledged man.”

Your breath was hitched when you subconsciously met Kyoya’s eyes during Tamaki’s speech, swallowing at his indirect advice. When you realized that you had slowly fallen into his gaze once again, a blush burned your cheeks as you smiled slightly and looked back to the front, heartracing. 

Kyoya’s heart matched your pace. 

A sigh brought your attention back to the couch as Shiro dipped his head, his bangs falling sadly in front of his face. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve run out of time. I just- I wanted to hear her play before she left…that’s all.”

Just as your heart slowed down, it broke in two at his admission. Forgetting your vendetta against him, you knelt down beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“That piece she played…it’s Mozart’s Sonata in D major for two pianos, isn’t it?” You asked him, sweetness pouring out of your voice like sugar. 

He looked at you in slight amazement. “How did you know?”

Another soft smile graced over your lips. “We have the same music teacher.”

With a slight tilt of your head, the prince walks over a large sheet near the back center of the music room. He pulls it away like a curtain, the fabric floating through the air before billowing to the polished tile. 

The host club relished in the sight of a glorious grand piano, barely used to the point where it was basically brand new. The window behind it surrounded the instrument in the light of the sunset, but the image wasn’t complete until Tamaki sat down behind it. 

“Wait a minute, since when was there a grand piano in here?” Haruhi asked. 

The twins smirked as they turned to look at her. “Well, this is a music room.” Hikaru stated.

“So why wouldn’t there be a piano?” Kaoru asked, expecting the frustrated look Haruhi gave them. 

A smirk tightened on Kyoya’s lips. “This is a music room after all.”

“It is a music room.” Mori adds with a curt nod while Honey stuffed his face.

“It’s always been there, we just had it covered up.” The boy lolita explained through the crumbs of his cake. 

Kyoya looked at you, expecting you to join in on the bit. And you would’ve, if Tamaki wasn’t playing the most beautiful thing you ever heard. 

Your fingers caged around your mouth, trapping any sound that might disturb him as Tamaki’s finger moved expertly on the keys. The piece was perfect, technically and artistically as Tamaki brought his own emotion into the piece. The feelings translated so strongly that you fought to keep the tears in your eyes from falling. 

It wasn’t everyday you got to hear Tamaki play. The first time was at one of the school’s recitals a while back. You had cried then too, not prepared for the sheer light of his content smile as he made every single audience member sit on the edge of their seat. 

Since then, he played rarely, the most frequent being when you had asked him to teach you a song. He had laughed and pushed you onto the chair, and he spent the whole afternoon watching you fumble over the keys. Then it was your turn to laugh. 

Now you need to learn how to listen to Tamaki play without crying. 

Snapping out of your daze slightly, you look over to Shiro, hoping you’re not the only one struck with inspiration. You laugh softly when he looks as amazed as you do, his eyes fuzzy as he sinks deeper into his thoughts. 

A touch on your shoulder drew your attention away from the little boy and onto Kyoya, who was giving you a soft look.

He glanced around the two of you before raising his hand to cradle your cheek. His thumb came up to wipe a stray tear that was rolling down, gentle and slow. The piano grew louder, the notes adding to the moment as a chuckle escaped his lips, watching your surprised face.

“I apologize if I’m intruding.” He said in a quiet voice, but he still moved closer, so as not to draw attention to the two of you. “It’s hard for me to see you cry without trying to help you.”

A wet giggle blows past your lips as you cover his hand with yours, leaning into his touch.

‘You must find the courage to express what  it is inside your heart!’

“Not at all.” You say in an equal whisper, the music wrapping around the space where your hands touch and holding them still for a moment. “I would do the same, I think.” 

‘You have to tell her how you feel!’

After a moment of forced motivation and relishing the sudden closeness, you both drew synchronized breaths, speaking at the same time.

“Kyo-”

“(Y/n)-”

Both of you gaped at the other. Kyoya quickly closed his mouth and swallowed into a small smile, while you laughed slightly at the accident. 

Ever the gentleman, Kyoya waited. “Please, after you.”

Feeling more confident as the music swelled to a dramatic ending, you licked your lips slightly before trying again.

“Kyoya, there’s something I need to tell you.” You moved both of your hands to the space between you, putting your other hand over his so you can grasp it tighter. 

You took a deep breath as your heart began to race. Everything suddenly felt wrong. 

Sensing the serious tone, the ravenet lifted an eyebrow, still waiting through your hesitation. 

Your head dipped as the floor spun, and you were discreetly aware of how many people were around you, even if they weren’t paying that much attention to you. The realization that you were about to maybe lose the best person in your life struck you like a bad note, interrupting the perfect feeling you had just seconds ago.

The notes on the piano began to bang, Tamaki reaching the end of the piece with the dramatism that was expected from him, and you felt rushed. Like if you didn’t do it now, then the moment would be over.

Were you supposed to feel rushed?

The hand that you weren’t holding felt cool against your chin as Kyoya brought your gaze back to him, and the spinning world came to a halt. 

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?” To him, your hands had gone tense on top of his, and the sweet look in your eye had turned a little wild. 

He stepped even closer to you, trying to reassure you the best he knew how. 

“Whatever it is you need to tell me, you can say it. You can trust me.” 

Cool air rushed through your lungs as you took another deep breath in the space of peace that Kyoya gave you. The wild look in your eye dimmed into a determined look, accented with a bit of nervousness. 

Your lips parted, and your voice was breathy as you muscled out the words you had kept hidden for all these months, maybe even years. 

“Kyoya…I-”

“That was awesome, Tama-chan!”

The moment shattered like glass, your confidence breaking with it as you realized that Tamaki had stopped playing, and was rising to get out of his seat. 

Both you and Kyoya panicked slightly, firmly aware of your proximity to each other, and jumped away, unclasping your hands and holding them back at your side. 

As Tamaki detaches himself from the piano, you fight the blush that lingers on your cheeks, trying to cope with the whiplash of being so close to expressing how you felt in front of everyone, just because of some motivational words and good piano playing?

It all happened so quickly. What were you thinking?

But Tamaki's voice filters back into your focus. “For the next week,” he speaks to Shiro, “you will spend your mornings, lunches, and free time after school in piano lessons with me.”

Shiro scrunched his brows, looking as confused as you were. “But why?”

The prince laughs softly. “You wanted to be my apprentice, didn’t you? Besides, that young lady looked like she wanted nothing more than to play the piano with you.”

He begins to play again, and you sneak a look over to Kyoya, with his jaw tense and pulsing. 

You hung your head back down. He didn’t look happy.

Everyone knows Kyoya is one of the most observant people in the room. His entire life, his mind was sharpened to process even the tiniest of details. Surely, he already knew what you were going to say to him. 

And he looked angry and sad because of it. 

Of course he did.

When piano notes filled the air, you couldn’t stand the emotion of it all. Turning on your heel, you silently left without another word.

sorry it took so long! here is a long chapter to tide you over till the second part! please comment if you can, i love reading them :)

[bitterarcs]

A causal thing turned a genuine hobby — the pass time for the pass time of being entirely lazy and liberal with gil. Reno's heart was not entirely made out of coal. Sure, kids were still starving and villages being industrialized for the sake of ShinRa, but at least the Turk was spreading his wealth with some of the hardest working women on the planet. There was doing something vile for the sake of survival as he had done for many years as a child and teenager, and then there was doing it with a smile on face and sweet giggle spilling past glossy lips.

There wasn't enough gil in the world that would have Reno hoping on wrinkled and entitled cock with a smile on his face; he was a beast best suited for ripping and killing with a genuine smile on his face. It was why the honeybees impressed him so much, and why he was so generous. Sure, it made him look like a loser — only after pussy with a price tag, yet he was another kind of loser . . a man who did not know what to do with his time when he was not badgering his partner and best friend. Reno, being the perfect example of an optimist, saw the best of any most scenarios; it was better to spend his time making such women laugh as opposed to being a bastard betting on chocobo races and purchasing expensive paintings.

The slum kid did not fall far from the . . industrial garbage, even in wealth. He was half a bottle of cognac in, but more juiced up on the company of an adoring crowd and finishing another day of hard work at ShinRa. He vaguely recognized two typically suited ShinRa employees, of which kept to themselves while trying to attract a girl or two for their own entertainment. Reno only saw it fit to be more audacious with his speech and action.The queen bee making her grand entrance pulled off all the excess company, not that the Turk would complain. She was the best part of coming to the Honeybee Inn. What began as a rather normal smile ( a rarity for Reno ) quickly transformed into the typical mischievous tug of the lips.

(  ❛  People sure loooove rumours, mm? The only way a Turk gets fired is with a bullet in their skull. ❜  )

Dramatic, the bare pointer finger of his right hand jerked upwards to tap his forehead between his scarlet eyebrows.

(  ❛  Not like that would ever happen. I was just messing around. Part of my charm. They honestly shoulda' known this hiring some disgusting slum kid; I'm just too skilled to pass up. ❜  )

Not that it would ever happen what with Rufus taking the throne. . though there had been a time Reno was under the muzzle of a ShinRa firing squad and, the little prodigal son had willingly worked to bring the Turks down. Times changed. Relationships changed. Reno could never imagine not being a Turk, however the impossible scenario was made queerly into life; it did not seem so horrible all of the sudden. It was similar to the dream he had as a child prior to joining the Turks only better, more prestigious. More surprising, his ego wouldn't mind sharing what she rightfully built up; he would be honoured in fact.

(  ❛  It would be kinda' cool, huh? We'd make a helluva duo honestly. Thirteen year old me would have salivated at the chance. Maybe if Rufus gets actually sick of me, I'll come here and drag Rude with me. ❜  )

It spoke volumes that his 100 percent certainty regarding his dream career was brought down to 99 percent, perhaps lower. Melissa held such power and provoked such thought.

Melissa found Reno surrounded by some of her own employees - the girls were always easily seduced by his charm (and fat tips), and having a guy like him around who was easy on the eyes and made them laugh turned the Turk into an undisputed favorite. As soon as the queen herself made it there, she dismissed the other ladies - and leaned forward over the booth where the redhead was sprawled over, a sly smile on painted lips.

"A few bees have been hinting at your bosses being this close to firing you today," the madame remarked with a conspiratorial voice, the type reserved for juicy gossip only, "If the worst come to pass - would you be willing to become my partner instead? Maybe with you as my co-ruler, we could make some changes and bring some boys into our main cast, too."

It was a joke, clearly - Melissa did not expect Reno to get fired. But it didn't change the fact that they had similar backgrounds, their fates entwining in ways which solidified her trust and made sure that he would always have a friend looking out for him. At any rate - the imaginary scenario of Reno screening future male workers was just too damn entertaining. @stingslikeabee

(   is this a love confession, melissa ?  )

[huffle-dork]

Curiosity Killed the Cat: Chapter 12

The Grand Finale Chapter 11 | Masterpost|

Jameson and Anti arrive in Chase’s recording room in a burst of glitches. Jameson is quick to run over to his brothers, Chase quickly meeting him halfway and hugging him tight. Jameson smiles and pats his arms, trying to assure him that he’s okay.

Anti buzzes to stand next to Henrik and Jackie, eyeing down the computer. “...any clue what Kit kat is planning?”

Jackie sighs, “No… but… Phantom did warn us he would be trying to get a large crowd… I just hope his magic can’t affect people over technology…”

“Whatever this is though,” Henrik adds shakily, “I do not think it’s good…”

“Yeah…” Anti agrees, solemnly looking at the screen.

Marvin’s charming face is smiling at the screen as he begins the stream. He looks… normal. His bright blue eyes are shining with that innocent look he had before all this mess started. His hair is… long though- and brown. But, he wears his signature white cat mask on his face, a big cloak over his shoulders- and that suit he’s been wearing still on and looking fresh. Fresher than it did at the hospital that’s for sure…

“Top of the morning, everyone! That’s what Jack says, right?” He laughs and tries to smile at the camera, “Sorry if I got it wrong! It’s been a while since I had a video, hasn’t it?”

Jackie grips the back of the chair he’s leaning on, hearing cracks under his palms. Marvin sounds fine… but he knows he’s not. He knows that isn’t fully his brother right now… and his heart is beating in his throat as he hangs onto every word he says.

Marvin laughs again and his eyes flicker to something darker- green and purple appearing briefly in his irises as he adds quietly.

“...did you miss me?”

That line sends a shiver down all the egos’ back- except Anti who scowls and bares his teeth, his form glitching angrily.

“Or- I guess you were expecting that line from someone else, weren’t you?” Marvin spits at the camera, his voice getting lower. He glares at the camera now.

“Actually… that’s why I’m here. I would like to have a chat with all of you…” Marvin talks like a teacher disappointed at his students, sighing dramatically. “We need to talk about the glitch… and all of yours’s... Unhealthy obsession with him.”

He slams his hands down on the table and leans in closer to the camera, the feed glitching slightly with green and purple as his anger resurfaces. Flickers of his darker mask and veins of black magic show up on his skin, if only for a brief second. He glares with hatred burning in his eyes.

“Why do you want to hurt me and my brothers?!” He snarls at the screen.

“Oh the theorists are gonna have a field day with all of this,” Anti mutters, crossing his arms.

“Why do you cheer and seek out our torturer? Is our pain funny to you? Is it fun to see us controlled and puppet-ed and hurt over and over and over again?!” Marvin bites at the screen, feeling the eyes of the community on him. His anger makes his form flicker more and more. But finally, he laughs bitterly and shakes his head, sitting back down in the chair and lounging back. But he still looks furiously at the camera.

“...You all have no concept of the pain you cause. All for your entertainment… you all sicken me.”

“...harsh-” Chase whispers under his breath with a wince. Though… he can’t help feeling exactly what Marvin is feeling. And he’s sure his brothers are all hiding that part of them that feels the same.

Marvin laughs darkly as he tilts his head at the camera and grins, showing sharp canines. His form fully melts away into it’s corrupted form- mask black and purple and branches of purple magic running up his neck and crawling up rapidly to his face. His sclera has turned black and his eyes flare even more purple.

Cries of confusion can be seen in the chat. Some wonder how Jack is doing all this- others assuming this is all for shit and giggles.

“Well today! I say no more!” Marvin chuckles darkly but his emotions quickly shift to anger again as purple magic zips around him dangerously. “I’m sick of being a pawn controlled by the whims of people who don’t even know me! Just like fucking Jack… I will no longer be a puppet- controlled by the likes of you!”

For a second- it feels like Marvin’s eyes meet Anti’s through the screen. And… Anti hates the surge of fear that goes through him.

Marvin then looks away and laughs, getting up and holds out a hand that glows purple. The camera seems to be lifted up in his magic as he grins, “And to prove that to you all… let me show you something~!”

In a poof of purple smoke- the camera turns off for just a second and then reappears with Marvin- and he’s now standing over the comatose Jack.

“Jack!” Henrik shouts in worry, closing in on the screen as if he can reach them.

The comments are going crazy- some worried- some wondering if any of this was real.

“Now this must be a shock for you all! After all…our beloved Chase has been doing such a good job of filling in for our precious Jack, hasn’t he?”

Chase shivers and staggers back, feeling panic gripping at his chest. No! What was Marvin doing?? He’s unraveling everything they’ve been trying to hide! He’s gonna send the whole community into a frenzy!

“He’s insane-” Anti growls, “Just what is he trying to do? Make 20 million people have a panic attack?? Alert the news? He’s gonna expose all of us!”

“He must be doing this for a reason…” Jackie mutters, but he looks nervous too. This was gonna be a lot to clean up….

“Now now- don’t worry everyone! I can assure you he is safe… and I will wake him up after all of this is done!”

“̸̬̾L̷͓̐i̴̧͂k̴͓̚e̸̙͝ ̵̣̆h̶̗̔e̸̟͆l̸͙͘l̸̥̉ ̴̦͝ḣ̷͈e̶̝̎ ̶͇̌w̴͙͂i̵̳͆l̷̮͠l̶͖̚!” Anti suddenly shouts, glitching wildly and he tries to dive towards the computer. He barely enters the screen for a second before he’s thrown out, spasming as purple energy crackles along his body. He grits his teeth and curls up on the floor to keep from crying out in pain.

Marvin seems to stare knowingly at the screen as he smirks and chuckles. “You see… this is the work of the glitch you all love so much… you gave him enough power to take Jack… and put him to sleep.

But, not to worry! I took control of him from the glitch… I’ve been keeping him safe and sound.” He assures the screen charismatically.

“Lying Bastard!” Henrik curses, gripping the table tight. Jameson puts a hand on his shoulder to try to calm him down.

Marvin then sighs and poofs and him and the camera appear back by the desk in the normal recording spot. He stares at the screen intensely.

“... there is something that must be done before I can wake up Jack and make all of this right, however. And for that… I need all of your help.”

“...uh oh-” Jackie whispers.

“You see,” Marvin begins- and as he does, the background behind him starts to shift and change, warbling in and out of focus, flowing like it’s made of watercolor. Then, it slowly starts to spiral.

“I can’t allow all of you to fuel the glitch any longer… so you’re all going to help me get rid of him.”

All of the egos feel shivers go down their spine as they start to panic.

“Jamie quickly! Marvin is at Jack’s see if you can-!” Henrik whispers desperately.

Jamie is already trying to produce some magic to try to teleport- but his magic sparks and fizzles with purple.

Anti groans from the ground, trying to get up, “H-He’s blocked it- He’s created some kind of magic wall- we can’t get to him…!” He growls in anger.

Marvin laughs maniacally and thrusts a hand out at the camera. It starts to glow purple and spirals of lavender magic start to overlay the screen- the background also swirling with purple magic.

Jackie recognizes this instantly and he shoves anyone close to the screen that’s trying to watch. “D-Don’t look! H-He’s trying to-!”

Chase and Henrik are shoved to the floor, Jameson trips and lands on his ass, magic cracking as he falls.

But, In his effort to push everyone else away- Jackie has ended up standing right in front of the screen. The magic very quickly grabs a hold of him, his eyes echoing the spiral of the magic as his jaw falls open, mind going blank.

“N-No! Jackie!” Chase cries out, trying to push himself up. Henrik grabs him though and keeps him down, fear clear in his eyes. “J-Jackie said not to look!”

Marvin’s laughter is haunting as he captures all of the viewers one by one. The chat falls silent as everyone who is watching is caught in the magic- falling under Marvin’s spell.

He giggles as more magic starts to eat up his skin on his face, veins opening up wider and fizzling with more dark purple magic.

“Yes…! All of you… all of you give me your memories of the glitch…! I’ll erase them… bit by bit.” He pauses to laugh, feeling a surge of emotions from his captives.

“No, don’t worry everyone! I won’t kill him~! No… I’ll leave enough of him around… Just enough so he can’t fade. But he won’t reform either… ha ha… doesn’t that sound familiar, A̴̭͝n̵̹̈́t̶̹̓ì̵̢?̷̝̓” Marvin laughs insanely, increasing his magic as he starts to dig into everyone’s collective memories- and starts to tear them to shreds. Any hint or glitch of the demon known as Antisepticeye, he rips apart into tiny pieces.

Anti starts to scream bloody murder, his entire form starting to be broken apart by purple veins of magic. He glitches and spasms, clawing at the ground like that can save him. His eyes are pits of toxic purple magic as he screams and screams and screams-!

“H-Help me…! H̴̺̾-̷̨̉Ĥ̴͇Ê̴̼L̸͓̅P̶̺̎ ̴͙̆M̶͈͂E̴̲͛!̷̘̍!̷̛̟”̴̫̀ ̵͓̈ Anti sobs out desperately, his entire form being broken apart.

Henrik rushes to Anti’s side and Jameson joins him, the gentleman tries to stabilize him with a bit of magic. But- it’s not working, nothing is working!

Chase staggers and goes to grab onto Jackie’s shoulder, shaking him. “J-Jackie! C’mon dude, snap out it! Y-You’re helping Marvin, h-he’s gonna kill us!”

Jackie doesn’t respond- or more like he can’t respond. The magic is strong in his eyes, his mind being invaded and memories being picked apart and shredded. Purple veins crawl from his eyes and tears leak out of them as he trembles- stuck in the magic’s grasp.

But, even though he doesn’t respond to Chase- he seems to be mumbling something. Even though it seems to pain him.

“M-Marvin… d-don’t do this… please..! Stop!” The hero whispers tearfully.

Chase dares to briefly look at the screen- at Marvin.

The magician- for just a second… seems to flinch, blue very faintly flickering in his eyes.

Chase’s eyes widen. Did- did he hear Jackie…? Did they have more of a pull since they’re all connected to Jack and Anti?

Chase narrows his eyes in determination. He looks at the others. “G-Guys… this may sound crazy… but I have an idea…! I think… if we get pulled under- maybe we can reach Marvin through his magic!”

“T̴-̷T̶h̴a̶t̵'̷s̴ ̷t̵h̷e̶ ̶s̶t̴u̷p̶i̵d̶e̵s̷t̶ ̸t̶h̷i̵n̸g̴ ̵I̵'̴v̸e̴ ̵e̴v̴e̷r̷ ̶h̶e̶a̴r̴d̶!̸” Anti snaps out at Chase.

Henrik and Jameson exchange glances. But slowly, Jameson nods, eyes glowing with determination. Henrik sighs and seems hesitant, gripping his hands into fists. But, he soon nods too. “I-It’s worth a try… what else can we do?”

Chase smiles at his brothers and then helps them up to join him next to Jackie. He hesitates, then grabs Jackie’s hand. A surge of power flows up his arm, orange light shimmering in his veins. He looks at it with confusion. “Uh… okay- that’s… totally normal…”

Jameson notices this and goes to take Jackie’s other hand. He catches red pulsing up through Jackie’s veins under his jacket sleeve as his own glows teal. He offers his hand to Henrik’s who takes it quickly. His veins glow with white and he laughs a bit in disbelief, shaking his head.

“... I will never understand all this magic shit… but… let’s save our brother…”

Jamie nods with a hopeful smile. Then- they all look towards the screen, letting the magic fully take them in.

“F̷-̴F̵u̴c̴k̸i̷n̸g̷ ̴s̶u̶i̵c̸i̶d̷a̸l̶ ̷i̶d̵i̵o̸t̸s̷-̶ ̵” Anti grumbles before he gets another wave of pain that sends him screaming and glitching into the carpet.

As the magic washes over them, suddenly the brothers hear a cacophony of screaming that sends all their minds reeling. It’s a tidal wave of confusion and fear and agony that sends them spiraling underneath. But they quickly try to resurface- determination pushing them forward.

They hear a loud voice above the others, echoing in the wide expanse. “MARVIN!!” Jackie’s voice cries desperately. “You have to stop this! This is gonna kill you! Please wake up!”

Henrik and Schneep start to join him, shouting out for their brother, trying to get him to snap out of this.

Then- another voice joins them- almost as loud as Jackie’s.

“MARVINNN!!” Jameson’s inner voice yells. The others are momentarily confused. They’ve never heard his voice before. But… with the tone and the British accent- it sure does sound like him.

Jamie continues to shout towards Marvin, pushing his magic into projecting towards the magician. “Marvin we’re here!! You don’t have to do this, this isn’t you! Please stop this!! Don’t let the darkness win! Fight back!!”

The others are fueled by their little brother’s passion and start to join him in his cries, increasing their voices above the panicked screaming of the fandom.

Marvin’s magic falters, his fingers trembling as he tries to keep the spell steady. But there’s a very loud scream behind him that’s threatening to break his concentration.

Jack is also screaming in agony as Marvin’s magic destroys what he’s created.

“Shut up! You’re fine!” Marvin growls to the Youtuber, “This is for your own good! For all of our good!”

Then, Marvin is hit with a wave of screaming voices- hearing the fandom’s panic all at once and it leaves him breathless. His eyes flicker more with blue at the sound and he tries to drown it out, closing his eyes and increasing the spell.

“No no no! C’mon I-I’m so close…!” He grunts to himself through gritted teeth.

Then, he hears them- the sounds of his brother’s voices. And- Jamie… Jameson is the loudest.

Orange, red, teal and white light dances in his eyes, trying to fight back against the purple corruption. He winces and holds a hand against his head, the voices becoming too much. It feels like his head is gonna explode!

“Marvin please!!” Henrik pleads.

“C’mon Marv! You’re better than this!” Chase urges.

“You’re not alone anymore Marvin! We’ll never let Anti hurt you again!” Jackie promises.

“Marvin, please! Fight back! WAKE UP!” Jameson encourages.

Something inside him snaps. And… it feels like Marvin is waking up from the deepest dream he’s ever been in.

He gasps and instantly ends the spell, waving his hand away to get rid of the spirals.

The boys all crumble to the floor as they’re released.

Anti is practically passed out and dead weight on the ground, his entire body covered in purple magic veins that spark with glitches and pixels. Henrik rushes to check his pulse or- whatever you’d check to make sure the glitch wasn’t dead.

Jackie staggers to his feet and goes to help up Chase and Jameson. He smiles warmly at Jamie and claps a hand on his shoulder.

“Nice shouting in there, buddy! You were incredible! A true septic voice, just like the rest of us!” He pulls Jamie in and gives him a slightly noogie. “Always knew you had it in ya, baby bro!”

Jameson blushes bashfully and hides slightly behind his hands.

Then, They all turn back to the screen, and see Marvin hyperventilating.

He looks desperately at the camera, tears in his bright blue eyes as he whimpers out, “I’m sorry- I-I’m so sorry everyone! I… I… d-don’t understand what… I.. I never wanted this to happen…!”

He suddenly falls forward towards the desk, gripping at his sides as he yells out in pain. The veins of magic are still stark on his skin and they start to glow brighter, the skin around them starting to darken and look like it’s covered in ash.

Jackie recognizes the sight of this and he panics, pressing up against the screen. “N-No!”

He looks desperately to Jamie, “J! W-We gotta get to Marvin! I think the magic is killing him!”

Jameson’s eyes widen and he nods, trying to concentrate on a spell to get them to Marvin. It seems like his magic isn’t blocked anymore… but he is a bit drained from the projection he used. Still he focuses as hard as he can, sweat blooming on his brow.

Marvin looks at his corrupting hands and skin with fear, stumbling out of the chair and shaking his head. “No…n-no no no no! W-What’s happening? I-I-!” He shouts out in pain again and this time, grips at the area around one of his eyes, falling to his knees. When he lets go and looks at his shaking hand, blood and black gunk are there- the substances now leaking from his eye. He coughs, black sludge falling from his mouth and he nearly falls over. He heaves and tries to drag himself back to the desk-

His brothers were watching right? They had to be… otherwise they wouldn’t have reached him like they did!

He claws his way back up the desk and looks back at the camera one last time. He looks panicked and scared as he reaches out towards the screen- as if he can reach his brothers through it.

“H-Help me!!” Marvin sobs, dark smoke leaking out of both corners of his mouth, his entire face cover in pulsing magic.

And then, there’s a flicker of purple power- and the camera gets destroyed, shutting off the livestream.

“No!” Chase shouts, trying to see if he can get the stream back up again. But it’s gone- it’s offline.

“J! C’mon how’s that spell coming??” Jackie cries. Jameson’s knees are shaking as he tries to finish the spell.

Then, something grabs his leg, startling him. Anti is grabbing him, gritting his teeth as he supplies the gentleman with some of his own power.

“Grab onto the oldtimer, now!” He calls out, “Let’s go save Kit Kat before he kills all of us!”

The others rush to grab onto Jamie as Anti glitches them away to Jack’s studio.

Marvin has collapsed to the ground, holding himself up on his elbows as he coughs and shakes, the corruption still trying to eat him alive.

He sobs, gripping his fingers into the floor, “I-I didn’t want this…! I-I’m a monster- i-i hurt so many people…!” He closes his eyes and breaks down, “I’m no better than he is…!”

A dark voice giggles in his ear though. It doesn’t sound like the glitch though… it sounds like him- just wrong.

“𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕦𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖…! ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕦𝕝 𝕨𝕖’𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖… 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝔸𝕟𝕥𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕𝕟’𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕝 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕚𝕕! 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞… 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞. 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙- 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕒𝕣 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕒𝕝𝕝!”

Marvin shudders, trying to shake off the voice. But, it’s echoing all around him, fogging up his thoughts in black smoke.

“N-No! No I… I don’t-”

The voice shushes him, it’s voice charismatic and smooth. Easy to listen to.

“𝔻𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕪… 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕘𝕠. 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟… 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀’𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥~!”

Marvin feels his heart drop- and then his body starts to feel numb and disconnected from his core. Just like- just like when Anti tried to steal his body. Back in Phantom’s warehouse.

The reality of all of this falls on him like a ton of bricks. All this power… it never was his, was it? It was using him the whole time… just like Anti did. Just like Phantom did.

He was never taking control of his story… he just let himself become a toy once again. Something to be played with and then tossed aside.

Hopeless tears fall down his face as he hangs his head.

“...i-i’m so sorry… Jackie… j-Jamie… hen.. C-chase… i… I never wanted to hurt you…” He whispers heartbrokenly. “I… I just wanted to keep us safe…”

Energy cracks in the air around him as the force of magic inside him takes over more of his body. This… was how he was gonna die? Losing his body to a dark force of magic he helped create…

If he fought harder against Anti… if he never opened that stupid book all those years ago…Maybe- Maybe none of this would have happened…

Marvin can’t feel his legs now and he starts to panic. He looks around the room for something- anything!

His eyes land on Jack’s bed.

The magician quickly tries to drag himself closer to his creator, even if his legs drag behind him- the floor turning black and charred beneath him. He reaches out desperately.

“J-Jack please…!” Marvin sobs, “J-Just this once… h-help me…!” More of his body gets numb as he tries to pull forward and then he crashes onto the floor, wailing. “I-I just wanted to protect my family…! I wanted to make everything right…!” He looks up at Jack’s sleeping face and feels the numbness spread into his heart as it all crashes down on him. Everything he did…

“I… I shouldn’t have been made…!” He whispers, voice choked with tears.

The voice chuckles in his head and whispers like a siren song, “𝕆𝕙 𝕔’𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕪… 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥! 𝕀, 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕟𝕖, 𝕒𝕞 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕠 𝕘𝕝𝕒𝕕 𝕨𝕖 𝕨𝕖𝕣�� 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖! 𝕀’𝕞 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕕𝕠 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠… 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠…𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕦𝕤 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕦𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕. 𝕎𝕙𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀’𝕝𝕝 𝕕𝕠…! 𝔹𝕦𝕥… 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖~”

Marvin closes his eyes and sobs, curling up on himself.

If he was gonna die… why couldn’t it just be over with already…? …maybe this is what he deserved.

He feels his body start to twitch as the magic takes over- he feels his cheeks start to move without his permission, his mouth grinning without his say so- a mad haunting laughter escaping his lips that’s not his.

But- his hand- it seems to be curling around something in his pocket. Using the last of his strength and a lot of effort fighting through the numbness, he brings it towards his face.

It’s… its the jack doll.

Something then occurs to Marvin.

He lashes out to grab the doll with his other hand- and he starts to push all of his magic into it. No… not just his magic- his life force too.

The voice in his head stops laughing- and now sounds panicked. “𝕎𝕒𝕚𝕥 𝕟𝕠- 𝕨-𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘?!”

“I-I can’t let you take over my body and u-use my magic…!” Marvin grunts out, trying to push his energy out faster. “B-But I can’t die… I can’t let us reform so you can do this again so-!”

His eyes flare blue green as he yells and puts more magic in- his body really starting to lose color- even the veins fading to gray. “I-I’ll give my life b-back to Jack…! He can start over… h-he can make someone new…! Someone better…! And I c-can make sure you won’t hurt anyone ever AGAIN!”

“𝕐-𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕥!” The voice cries, “𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟’𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜! 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤!”

Marvin laughs bitterly and shakes his head, “m-maybe you’re right… but o-on the off chance this will stop you… s-stop us… then… i-it’s a risk i’m willing to take…!”

He yells as he pushes the last of his life force and magic into the doll- hoping the connection to Jack is enough… maybe it’ll wake him up too. He… he doesn’t know.

But the voice is gone- one last weak scream echoing in his ears before falling silent.

He pants, his whole body trembling as it loses all its color, his eyes starting to turn milky white and glassy. He laughs quietly, bowing his head.

“...make someone good for me… won’t you, Jack?” He whispers, closing his eyes and holding the doll close to his forehead.

Then- the door bursts open.

Jackie, Schneep, Chase and Jameson all pile through the door, looking at Marvin desperately.

“M-Marvin!” Jackie cries out, tears in his eyes.

Marvin stares at disbelief and tries to smile at them, black smoke leaking out of his mouth again- the floor around him looking like a crater hit it.

But then- the light in his eyes fades. And he crashes to the floor with a hollow thud.

The jack doll tumbles out of his hands and stills, blue green magic pulsing in its core.

[wasteofbandagesxx]

Hunting dogs in a nutshell part 9

The hunting dogs were supposed to meet at the airport. Little do they know it's filled with vampires. Not like the vapires were gonna attack them anyway while they are under control of a certain someone.

"Jouno's late." Y/n muttered. "He's probably busy beating people that are eating food combination." Tecchou said. He had a patch on his cheek because of the fight a few days ago. Jouno jumped his ass good, Tecchou could've won if he wasn't so focused on his chocolate. "Hey, you admitted that you pour in milk first before the cereal and that's not ok." "Whatever," Tecchou scoffed at Y/n's scolding, he think that it's natural. Everything that's unatural is natural to him, he doesn't care what people think.

"You guys are babies I swear." Teruko sighs as she taps her foot. She's known for being impatient. If Jouno doesn't show up in 5 minutes, Teruko would have his head. "Your a baby yourself captain." Y/n scoffed. That earned them an icy side eye from the co captain. Y/n didn't utter another word after that. They knew it was a sign to shut up.

"I'm here," Jouno said as he finally showed up. "Jeez, what took you so long?" Y/n asked, but Jouno didn't respond to that. "So, are you sure the detective agency is going to show up?" He asked. "How dare you question your captain like that Jouno! Your committing treason!" Teruko barked at him. Tecchou and Y/n gave each other a look that says, "I want to go home instead of watching these dogs fight."

"No I'm not. I'm just skeptical, that's all." Jouno replied calmly, covering up his nervousness. "Yes you were Jouno." "Shut up Y/n!"

Y/n rolled their eyes "whatever." Litte did they know there was a little girl behind them listening on their conversation. "There's are currently 18 decoy operations. And they're all being executed simultaneously to transport the real one order to Japan. How can you be so sure that the detective agency members actually know that the real shipment is coming to this airport?" Jouno asked, "The captain knows. He said this to me and I quote, 'I have no doubt that the brat is going to figure it out for himself.'" Teruko explained, trying to to make the best impression of Fukichi. Tecchou couldn't help but giggle which earned him a slap in the face by her.

"If that's the case we have a major problem. Are we going to fight them in this crowded airport?" Jouno asked before speaking again, "I think a better plan might be to threaten their relative associates." He said, the girl behind them gasped which caught their attention. Jouno turned around and decided that it would be fun to mess with her, suspecting that she could be close to the arm detective agency. "Well, well. Judging from your heartbeat, you must be a relative or an associate of theirs." He suspected. The little girl snapped back at him and Y/n couldn't help but smile a bit. "So what if I am? I haven't done anything wrong for you to threaten me." She huff.

Jouno walks towards her and talks about hoisting her up above a raging fire for the detective agency to rescue her. "I guess that your despicable enough to set up someone who's kind enough to come rescue me." She snaps at him, Jouno bends to her level as he got close to her face and spoke, "I don't care if the detective agency are villians. Or if they're the kindness people who ever walked the earth. The only goal I've ever had in life is to hurt and torment people regardless of who they are. And none of the rule and law listen to the sounds of their demise." Jouno said, sounding like a villain rather than a hero.

"Your crazy! How they let you join the police!?" The little girl asked before jouno got even closer and causing her to fall on her butt. "If your defending the agency that means your a suspect as well. So, how about it? Would you like to be apart of my entertainment?" He asked creepily. The little girl clenched her teeth as she began to sweat. She was nervous and being intimidated by Jouno was scary for her. Y/n taps Tecchou on the shoulder, giving him a sign to stop Jouno. The little girl looked down, "thanks anyway, but no." She said.

'Shing!'

A sword went right up Jouno's ass. "Ghh!" He arched his back and winced in pain as Tecchou jabs him in the ass. He retracts his sword and scolds him. "That's enough. Don't torment the innocent for your own amusement" He lectured.

"You have got to stop jabbing me in the ass with that sword! All I'm doing is simply asking a suspect for their voluntary cooperation!" He said, rubbing his ass with one hand and pointed at the child with the other while complaining his ass off. "You were intimidating and threatening a child, not asking, thats beefing." Y/n spoke, " Then do it after filing for a criminal negotiation. Otherwise it isn't justice." Tecchou said.

"I suggest we settle this argument right here and now than. Let's see which of our methods work." Jouno said, both of the boys rested their hands on the handle of their swords and got into fighting position. "Guys, we're at a mall." Y/n said, but they didn't bother to pay attention.

Y/n quickly ran to the little girl and asked if she has gum. The girl nodded and reached into her pocket and gave them 2 pieces of peach flavored gum. Y/n quickly unwraps them, shoves the gum in their mouth and starts chewing quickly before spitting them out in their hand. "Thank you." Y/n turns around and throws the two piece of chewed gun in their hair. Both men stopped at their tracks before they even attacked each other. "Did you just?..."

"....."

"Peach flavored gum?" Jouno asked. "You didn't even put Mable syrup on it..." Tecchou said in disbelief. Y/n and the little girl gave them the wtf look. The little girl just walked off, leaving Y/n all alone. Both Jouno and Tecchou walked towards Y/n and cornered them with anger in their eyes.

"Your turn Y/n~" Jouno sang as both men cracked their knuckles.

"....Oh shi-"

To be continued->

[millenniumdueled]

The Grand Opening

At last, the dreaded day has come.

Of course, Yugi had made a promise to his grandpa, not to go anywhere near that new shop. But on the other hand, how could the impassioned gamer possibly stay away? Competition or not, Yugi couldn't deny his excitement, barely able to sleep the night before.

Is it really alright to break a promise to Grandpa? his Other Self asks from within their heart as Yugi makes his way just a block up the street from their own game shop.

"grandpa's tastes are kind of old-fashioned. it's not his fault, but it's not really a surprise something better finally came along..." Yugi answers out loud. "but if there's a new game out, i've gotta play it!!"

However, seeing the impressive crowd lining up outside the Black Crown does leave a heavy weight in Yugi's chest. There must be a thousand people in line, a stark contrast to the twelve customers Kame had seen in the past week.

For just a second, he considers turning around, returning to grandpa and going down with their own ship. Then he spots his friends, Téa waving excitedly from her spot in line with Joey and Bakura, and Yugi's spirits lift again. He sprints over, returning the gesture with a big grin as he slips into line, to join the the three.

There's a little under an hour before the store is set to open, but with the company of his friends, Yugi expects the time to pass quickly. A clown dressed in an elaborate costume and black and white painted mask walks amongst the crowd, waving and stopping to take selfies with the eager patrons as they wait. Joey shivers as the clown passes them, waving excitedly with oversized gloves.

"Don't that guy just give ya the creeps?" Joey groans

"I think he's sort of charming," Bakura says with a faraway smile that makes Yugi chuckle.

Before any of them realize, 11 o'clock strikes. A hush falls over the crowd.

The doors of the Black Crown game store open for the very first time, swinging open with dramatic flair. That very clown steps out to wordlessly welcome the eager patrons, ushering them inside with a grand gesture of his gloved hands.

The orderly line turns to chaos almost immediately as the crowd of people surge into the towering building in droves. The group of friends try their hardest to stay together, but against the waves of people larger than himself, Yugi ends up being swept away from the others. He calls for Joey, but reaching them through the sea of customers proves impossible.

"We'll meet upstairs in the café!!!" he hears Téa's voice over the excitement of the crowd, and that's good enough.

Yugi has a new game to check out, after all.

Getting up to the counter proves a challenge against the swarming crowd. Though the massive building hosts several floors of entertainment, no one wants to risk missing out on the exclusive, new game. A thousand people push their way to the front, a surging sea of bodies eager to make their purchase before exploring further, and Yugi finds himself swept up in the tide.

That's when he swears he hears his name above the commotion.

Yugi looks around himself and spots the clown from earlier, standing tall and still, like a lighthouse in the raging sea. Behind his black and white mask, the clown's eyes bore into the young gamer.

For a moment, Yugi stares back in bewilderment, before the clown reaches out an inviting hand.

"huh? me..??" Yugi asks, pointing a finger at himself for confirmation.

The clown nods.

Yugi looks around nervously, but no one else seems to pay him or the clown any mind. He nudges past a group of middle schoolers, and the clown ushers him through the crowd with a parting wave, guiding him to the front of the line.

"hey, he let me cut! this is my lucky day!" Yugi giggles to himself.

He knew our name...? Is it because of our reputation?

"who cares!! we're going to get ddm!! whatever ddm is...."

His thought is cut short by a firm hand gripping his shoulder aggressively.

Yugi turns sharply, finding himself being held by two men much, much larger than himself, both clearly dressed in security uniforms. His heart races.

"You're coming with us," the second guard spits as he grabs Yugi's other arm.

"w-what's going on? if this is because i cut, that clown--"

"Don't play stupid!" Yugi's cut short by an an oppressive squeeze on his shoulder. The second guard yanks him out of the crowd. "Shoplifting will not be tolerated here. You're in big trouble, kid."

Yugi's violet eyes go wide and he struggles, tries to pull himself away from the larger men, only to be lifted off the ground entirely by his skinny arms. He's more dragged than escorted, kicking and yelling, into a back room. Once the door closes behind them, one of the security guards wrestles Yugi's new jacket off of the young man, as the second guard takes something much more precious from him.

"hey!! give me back my millennium puzzle!!" Yugi shouts, tries to lunge for his treasure, but he's already restrained again by the guard who took his jacket.

"Look here. He's got DDM boosters in his pocket."

"are you serious?! i-i didn't take those!! how could I, they were behind the count--" Yugi's protesting is cut short by a powerful backhand to the face.

As the stars in his vision fade, he watches as another joins them in the security office. As the guard hands the Millennium Puzzle to the very clown who had ushered Yugi to the front of the line, and suddenly something clicks.

"It seems under that innocent mask is the face of a thief," the clown snickers, The light glints off the shimmering gold relic as it dangles by the chain in his gloved hand.

"you put those in there--!!"

"Now, now! Little liars and theives need to be taught a lesson. Show him to his punishment game!!"

"let me go!!!"

Once again the guards grab him by his arms, dragging him across the small security office to a second door, where they all but throw him to the floor. Yugi scrambles to his feet as quickly as he can, lunges desperately for the door, only for it to slam in his face.

Before his eyes can adjust, a single light switches on overhead, revealing a small, enclosed room with only the one exit, walls adorned with dozens of masks, the same as the one worn by the clown who had set him up. In the middle of the room is an intricate table, similar to the smaller Duel Arenas in Kaibaland. And sitting at the head of that table, facing Yugi with a cold, piercing stare is the annoying new student from his English class. The cocky playboy who had tried to humiliate Joey with rigged bar games.

"ootogi-kun, what are you do--"

"You can call me Duke. Actually, make that Master Duke. Have a seat, Yugi," he says with a voice like velvet and an inviting wave of his hand. "Our game's just about to start."

[unknown-writez]

The Traveler and The Jester

Chapter three: The Summer Court

Part three

As we got closer to the throne room at the end of the hall it started to get louder and louder an more and more people, fey men and women, dryads, nymphs and all manner of magical beings populated the halls leading up to a big room. Around the area there were golden clothed tables full of different foods and wine lining the sides of the room. people were sitting in chairs at the tables talking to one another in loud voices. in the center of the space between them people waltzed on the ballroom floor having fun spinning and laughing to the fun classical music from a band that was playing in one of the corners of the room. at the end in the middle there stood a large golden throne in the shape of a sun atop a pedestal. people sat giggling and whispering to each other on the steps. in the throne sat a tall looking man in long dramatic green robes that had a brown leather belt around them. He had sharp features and long white hair and a golden antler crown on top of his head. “Oberon has to have the key either on or near him. we just have to sneak over there. get it and then get the hell out of here.” puck said, leaning towards me trying to rehearse his plan in my ear. “Robin goodfellow! Come forward!” a deep voice shouted over the crowd of people. one that could only belong to one man. Oberon. With an eye roll, puck grabbed my hand and the sea of people parted to make a path for us till we got close enough to talk regularly at the bottom of the steps, everyone minding their own business going back to normal once we did. “You're finally back, goodfellow.” the king spoke “you caused quite the ruckus last time you were here. I had to spend weeks fixing everything but I do suppose it is good to see you. things were getting stale here.” the king spoke in a bored tone “I’m glad to know I entertain you.” puck said politely but I could tell he did not like the man “who is your companion? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of seeing her at court before.” Oberon asked and puck straightened up the slightest look of worry and panic in his eyes. his hand holding onto mine tighter. “this is fawn. she is a new summer fey. she’s been living out in the whylewoods by herself. it’s her first time being at court.” puck answered trying to sound convincing “I see… are you enjoying yourself my dear?” the king said, turning his gaze to me. his golden opalescent eyes searching mine, almost studying them for the truth “yes your grace.” I spoke back thinking about all the historical books and tv shows I used to watch about kings and queens. My favorite being the story of king Henry the eighth and his six wives. “Everything is so beautiful here. Thank you for having me.” I finished “you and the court have that in common.” he said back in a flirtatious tone making heat rise in my face, my cheeks now burning pink in embarrassment “would you care to dance.” he said in more of a demand than a question. standing up from his seat he walked down the steps to stand in front of us. As he did so his robes moved revealing an old rusted key with tiny dragonfly wings attached to his belt. Immediately my mind recognized that that had to be what we were looking for. glancing at puck I hinted to it with my eyes then turned back to Oberon, his hand now extended waiting for mine. putting my hand in his I responded with a fake smile “I would love too.” looking to puck he said “your dismissed.” who with an irritated and concerned look dropped my other hand that tried to hold me back from the king and stormed away to the outskirts near the edge of the dance floor where he stood arms crossed not talking to anyone pouting, his eyes never leaving me alone with man. Oberon smiled as he led me to the crowded center of the room. We turned towards each other, his other hand landing on my hip and I put one of mine on his shoulder. My head starting to devise a plan to get the key.

[stormy-skies-falling]

𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕔𝕜, 𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣

about: quackity

warning(s): swearing

pronouns: none specified?

word count: 1.2k

note: I literally came up with the title on a whim and went "that's a good story idea!" and just went with it. There was literally no storyline basis I just wrote and hoped it turned out. Kisses! <3

summary: after a late night drive Quackity and Y/n have their routine laughing fit and crash

Our laughter rings around the walls of our shared apartment, bouncing off of the ceiling and wood floors creating a slight echo in its wake. The sky was dark from outside the living room windows, the only light coming through the open curtains was from the gentle glow of the streetlights and the brightness of the full moon, few stars could be seen through the smog in the sky. 

Quackity and I had just gotten back from one of our late-night drives. We went to our usual place on these sporadic adventures, the same one he took me on our first date where our relationship of five years started: to the mountain lookout that oversaw the entire city. There, we found that the stars were closer to us than we thought; only this time, they were in the form of the twinkling lights created by the life of our home. 

The lightness of the atmosphere sparked joy in our hearts. Between the jokes cracked, drinks spilled, and impressions made, an outsider would guess that we’re zooted out of our minds. 

“No no! No no! But like if we could get Dwayne ‘The Rick–’”

“The Rick?” Quackity interrupted, making fun of my slip up. I stick my tongue out at him and he does it back as I finish my pitch.

“ – ‘The Rock’ Johnson,” I correct, “to play ‘Zamboni Man’ on ‘George on Ice: The Musical’ we could get crowds of people, Q! They would come for Zamboni Man and stay for George’s two man show about his life story– on ice and in musical form! And Zamboni Man plates everyone in George’s life except for George, so he even plays you!”

“Oh yeah?” He giggles, an entertained smile painted on his face as he listens to my and my friends’ ideas.

“Yeah! Wilbur and I have already written some music for it and there’s this one part when Zamboni Man– as you– says ‘quack quack, mother fucker! You know, as a catchphrase!’” My eyes blow wide and I give Quackity a wide, open-mouth smile, proud of the idea.

The fact that Quackity could tell I was 100% serious by the deranged open-mouthed staredown I was giving him caused him to erupt in his usual contagious laughter and double over at the intensity of it. I kept yelling “think of the opportunities” at him as he laughed harder and harder each time. It got to the point where tears began streaming both of our faces after I joined in and started kettling. I would kettle, he would laugh harder, which would cause me to laugh harder, the cycle continues.

We were once sitting on the couch… not anymore. Quackity kept muttering “quack quack mother fucker” to himself through his laughter as I clutch my stomach, both of us rolling around the floor near where we fell off the couch. I can hear Q crawling towards me as I lay my arm over my eyes and my other over my stomach, both slowly sobering up. Red splotches puff our under eyes and dried up tears paint our faces from both laughter and pain. 

Picking up my arm from my stomach, Alex lays his head on my chest and wraps his arms around me, my deep breaths calming him down even faster than before. I bring my one arm around him, causing him to cuddle closer, and bring my hand up to his hair, threading it through the soft, dark strands.

We lay like this for a while, enjoying each other’s touch as we calm down and bring our breathing back to normal. I keep running my fingers through my boyfriend’s hair, lightly scratching his head, and his gentle hums of contentment resonate my chest. Light kisses pepper my neck and jaw and collarbone– really anything Alex can reach. Over the course of a few short minutes, the kisses lessen as his breathing starts to even out and his eyes begin to flutter shut, slowly drifting to sleep. I shift my gaze from the beautiful man on top of me to the clock on the wall, noticing that it reads 4:00 am. With the knowledge of the whining that he and I are going to do in the morning if we don’t sleep in our actual bed is the motivation that it takes for me to wake up my tired boyfriend.

I gently brush the hair away from Alex’s closed eyes, causing him to stir in my arms. “My Love, we have to go to bed.” I whisper.

His eyes slowly blink open as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He looks up at me, eyes still heavy and nods, slowly getting off the floor and bringing me with him. After I grab both of our phones from where they were thrown on the floor, earlier in the night, Alex picks me up bridal style and wordlessly carries me to our room.

He gently sets me down on our bed and chucks one of his shirts at me (it smacked me in the face but whatever), getting changed as I plug in our phones. I take off everything but my underwear and pull the shirt over my head, breathing in the smell of my boyfriend’s cologne. Q and I crawl into the sheets at the same time, settling into our previous position. The moonlight from the window illuminates my boyfriend’s features, casting a soft blue in its wake. He must’ve sensed me staring, because he looks up to meet my eyes, sending a slightly confused look my way. 

“What?” He giggles, dark eyes shining in the moonlight.

“You just look really pretty.” I say, a dim blush and bashful smile makes its way onto Alex’s face.

“Te amo, mi vida, te amo mucho.” He says, voice low and intimate. Now it’s my turn to blush.

Quackity cups my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone, as he stares up at me with eyes full of love and wonder. He brings me down to him, lips brushing and breath intertwining. Alex tilts his head up slightly, causing our lips to meet in a slow and gentle kiss– one so full of love that I savor everything about it. We finally break apart when the need for air gets too much, panting slightly as we look at the other with love-sick smiles on our faces. He peppering soft kisses from my collarbone to under my ear and I subconsciously tilt my head back to give him more space, threading my hand through his hair once more.

“Quack quack, mother fucker.” He whispers in my ear, gently biting at the lobe, jarring me out of the trance I was in. Before I can ask him why the fuck he would say that now, he shushed me and continued to kiss all over my face, now hovering over me. “It’s my catchphrase now, now just enjoy yourself– you woke me up now deal with it.” 

“Did you really want to sleep on the floor?” I ask, amused. Alex pauses his actions and squints before giving me a quick peck on the lips.

“I’m going to keep going with the catchphrase if you don’t stop talking.”

“But–”

“Quack quack, mother fucker– I warned you–”

“Quackity, nO!”

[a-gal-with-taste]

Baked and Battered (3/4)

Summary: It's the classic story: Boy meets girl, Sumpsnipe meets Promenade-brat, baker meets rebel. And then it becomes so, so much more than that, for both of them.

(Inspired by @sweatandwoe​ ​ & Secret Ingredient, a must-read)

Warnings: SFW. Baker!Reader, romance, revolutionary-shenanigans, young love, time-skips, bit of world-building, slice-of-life-ish, hurt/comfort, humor, angst, eventual happy-ending

Part 1 | Part 2

A hand flashed out, with the intent to dive, grip, and never let go.

"Vander, stop it!"

You could hardly believe you were in this situation in the first place... your friend, the biggest, warmest fool and friend you had ever known, acting in such a way. It was appealing.

"Vander, enough!"

"I have to do what's best for Zaun," He insisted, and despite your protests, despite your fighting hards, desperate to ward him away, Vander succeeded in avoiding all your efforts, and snatching himself a cookie. Promptly shoving it into his mouth before you could slap it from him, "And I gotta make sure these are ripe for eatin'. Could be poisoned."

"Yes, Vander." You said flatly, giving Benzo a look of death-itself when he had the gall to start reaching for the plate. "I upgraded from frying-pans to poison."

The Hound of the Underground, grinned, elbowing his friend with a wink, "Told ya, deadliest of us all."

Rolling your eyes, you made sure to keep one on the large batch beside you on the counter, and the dozens - maybe even a solid hundred - others milling about the building.

When Silco had told you that Vander and Benzo, in all their genius, decided to purchase a bar to host their most important meetings with the Children of Zaun... you had to burst out laughing. The idea was absurd as it was perfectly in-character, and you still couldn't help but be utterly baffled that Silco allowed it to happen.

"It wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Gods no. A bar is acceptable as a public-forum, but as a central-base?"

"Well, then how did they sneak the deed past you? Did you not sign it?"

Silco's face had simultaneously turned sour and blank, and he had been quiet for a long time before replying. Theoretically to enjoy the food you had made for him... but in truth to avoid your bursting laughs at his confession for as long as possible.

"I was drunk when they put the paper in front of me."

In the present, you had to bite lightly on your knuckles not to giggle at the irony - was it the best piece of irony you had ever heard of? No, not really... but finding excuses to laugh were becoming rarer and rarer, and you knew you weren't the only one finding it difficult to laugh much these days.

Vander and Benzo, while locked in valiant battle for half of a cookie, both sported shadows under their eyes, and despite their age matching up close with yours they... looked old. Tired. Like the world was resting on their shoulders, and it was crushing.

You didn't like to think how Silco didn't look all that different, but couldn't stop from gazing out over the thick crowd of people in the bar, searching for the man himself, getting the urge to glance further up. A smile touched your lips, and you raised a hand to wave your fingers invitingly when you caught sight of him on the balcony above.

This was the first time you had been at The Last Drop, but it became clear quickly that though the ground-floor specialized in providing some entertainment, the second floor was entirely business, and mostly Silco's territory. Looking at him now, you knew he wasn't too thrilled by the party - eyes narrowed, flicking between his people with mouth pursed in a stern line...

Shadows beneath his eyes twice as dark, making something inside you twist. "Silco," You said, having no-hope with speaking over the music, boisterous laughter and conversation, but perhaps he was pre-tuned to your voice, for Silco's attention snapped towards you in seconds.

Gaze darkening briefly at the sight of Vander and Benzo, indeed acting like Children. It brightened, however slightly, when his eyes landed on you.

"Have you even sat down today?" You pressed gently when he strode down, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. You chose, for now, to ignore the wince he made at the motion - some bruise or other that you would take care of later, but for now, you reach over to pluck a cookie, give Vander a death-glare so he retracts his hand, and put it in Silco's. "Here, eat."

He has the nerve to sigh as he says your name, "I haven't developed an appetite today-"

"That wasn't a request. Eat."

The other Sons of Zaun chuckled at Silco's expense - and, in fairness, the man had guts of steel to actually pout between nibbles of a fresh-made cookie - but you shooed them both away as a stool was dragged over, and you pressed on his shoulders, gentle but firm, to force Silco down onto it. "C'mon, sit."

"Gonna ask 'im to shake too? Bastard already speaks well-enough..."

"I bite too, Vander," Silco said, and you blinked because... it wasn't a joke. The words were more than a bit ridiculous, but far-more absurd, was the fact that the two were glaring at each other.

And even after you shoved a cookie in the larger-one'a hand, shuffling him off to go mingle with his fellow revolutionaries - Benzo eager to follow - Silco was still glaring into the ground with a cold fire in his green-blue eyes. "Careful, glare too much and your face will stay like that. And you're too handsome to look like a grump all the time."

This finally caused the glare to slip from his features. Eyes wide, Silco gazed up at you with the tips of his ears reddening as your words registered, but you only rolled your eyes fondly, stepping behind him, hands settling on his shoulder to knead into stiff muscles.

"... I am not a grump."

"Not if you keep looking like that, you won't be." You assured him, looking out over the crowd, and not bothering to hide your smile at his huff. "Don't like parties?"

"Not a preference time-waster, no," Under your hands, you felt the man begin to relax, muscles loosening under your touch, and it wasn't long before he was leaning back into your grip in-earnest. "This one is becoming a far more remarkable experience."

"Because of the food?"

"Yes. And the caterer looks just as sweet."

Sly bastard, you were sure he was smirking as you ducked your head to hide your own blush.

For a moment despite his loathing and tenseness at the party atmosphere, and despite your obvious-outsider status among the deepest, most revolutionary part of the Lanes, you felt at ease. Which was a rare, too rare feeling these days. Enforcers were on the rise as much as the Children of Zaun were rising - business-searches had become more popular along the upper-levels near the harbor, not to mention random street-searches that made people more wary to walks the streets, even at daytime.

Down here, in the Lanes, you didn't see a scrap of the Piltover blue-gold of Enforcers, and it was a relief. The Entresol, and by extension the Lanes, had their own issues - you weren't sure when, or if you'd ever feel truly at-home in this level, but despite it all, you felt welcomed.

And when Silco's hand came up to cover your own, long fingers curling around your own to squeeze gently, you thought maybe just could feel at-home. Not necessarily here, but with him.

Maybe.

But then you felt another tensing beneath your palm, and you raised your gaze to look through the strings of patrons, Brothers and Sisters beyond, and you knew where his ice-lined gaze was fixed on.

Or rather, who.

"Want to talk about it?" You murmur softly, squeezing his shoulders when the young man didn't reply for a minute. "Silco?"

A moment paused, before, apologetically, but firmly, he squeezed your hand right back in reply.

Exhaling through your nose, you decided to let it go, reaching over to take a cookie for yourself to nibble on. You weren't here constantly, you couldn't know what sort of rift was built between the two... but you'd known them since childhood. And knew that, despite their moments of brilliance, Silco and Vander could just as often be dumb boys, brothers in all but blood - just as eager to build another up, as they are to tear each other down in a stupid, silly tussle between such brothers.

Lowering your head, you rested your chin atop of Silco's head with a sigh through your nose.

They were dense, but they'd figure it out and one way or another, there would be peace. You were sure of it, and with that thought, you ignore that small, anxious weight gathering inside of you...

Concern for Silco wasn't a new thing. It's how the two of you met - instead of letting out a shrill scream for an adult, to cast away the strange child robbing the pastry-shelves, concern for the fellow-child's too skinny frame had led you to grab a basket, and more rolls for a sufficient meal.

Years and years went by, and you didn't think your concern for the boy, then teen, then young man, now revolutionary, could ever cease.

You had so much concern for Silco, you didn't leave a speck of it left for yourself.

Hands numb, as you gather the next handful of shattered glass between your napkin-wrapped palms, you wonder if maybe this could have been avoided if you were a bit more concerned for yourself.

Your windows, shattered.

Kitchen, a complete disarray.

All the food brought to the ground, squashed spitefully under boot or simply left to rot in the form of stains and smears.

And a notice on the door, with Piltover's stamp clear to see.

A shard slips between the coverings on your hand, slicing at a finger, but your mind can only focus on the words you had read, still disbelieving even after seeing them with your own eyes.

Suspicion of rebellion connections. Warrant of search.

Deep down, you knew there would be sneers that you only endured a search, and not an interrogation. Oftentimes, along the harbor, Enforcers don't even bother with those, and simply jump straight to an arrest.

Lucky.

Depositing the next handful of glass into the bin, you want to laugh. Then cry, at how lucky you were.

Lucky that Vander finally convinced you to go to a Lanes party. Lucky that you accepted, and that the event had lasted long enough that you missed the Enforcers entirely, only coming back to the destruction they left behind.

Lucky that you convinced Silco to split up with you, before returning to your bakery - though, deep down, your luck had to run out at some point.

A shuffling of glass with his first slow steps into the building - there wasn't much point in using the door, with the window busted wide enough that one could just step in. And that's exactly what Silco does, slowly and carefully making his way over the frame that still holds a few jagged planes of glass, into your shop.

You can't look at him. Not even when he says your name.

The second-time Silco says it, it's sterner... not like Silco, but like a Son of Zaun.

"Did you check the building? Any left?"

Another handful of glass, deposited almost robotically into the bin beside you, before you shook your head. "No," You whisper, voice quiet, maybe little tight. "They... no one else is here."

It took another second, before Silco was beside you, kneeling in the glass. The urge to stop him,, to shoo him before he cut himself came far too late, and when your hand came up to push him from the mess, Silco was easily able to catch you by the wrist.

"You're bleeding," He said, simply. Plucking away the napkin acting as a pathetic excuse for gloves, Silco guides the hand closer to him for inspection, flashing the pad of his thumb over the fresh wound with all-gentleness. "There's no glass in there... let me go find-"

"No," You breathe, taking him with your other hand, and looking toward him, imploringly. His bright gaze flashes up to you, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other.

The contest was broken by your blink, followed by another, rapider one, which acted as introduction to your small voice whispering in a single plea, "Don't leave me."

Don't leave me, when all I've known is left in ruins.

Don't leave me when I need you.

Don't leave me just for a stupid bandage.

Don't leave me.

You only say the last thought on your mind, a simple plea of three words. It doesn't say all of what you ask him for.

But Silco understands you. And as tears start rolling down your cheeks, hiccups sobs beginning to slip from your mouth with no hope of stifling them, he just pulls you into his arms.

Silco doesn't leave you. Not then.

That doesn't stop that dreadful weight from coiling inside you, still.

"I won't stand for this."

"They've dealt worst blows-"

"And I didn't stand any for those either, but this is too much. Too personal. Too close, Vander," Silco barely resembles humanity, with the way his lips are drawn back in a snarl, and  eyes the exact color of blue-fire.

It's a sight that would be so much more terrifying, if Silco and Vander weren't the one's covering in splashes of paint in the repainting the walls.

Benzo kept you company at the single table and chairs that had survived the Enforcer's search and raid - he also acted as your warden. A kind warden, one that offered you a drink from every so often from that bottle that recently seemed near-glued to his hand, but Janna-forbid you attempted to even stand.

"But-"

"Nope, y'gotta relax."

"Can you tell them that?" You gestured with a more properly wrapped-hand towards the other Brothers in question, who where nose to paint-splashed nose with each other.

"This, was far too close, Vander," Silco hissed again. "Next time it could be a supplier they hit. An informant, one of our insiders, and that risks the entire operation falling apart."

"It's not going to come to that!" Vander insisted in a scoff, but Silco, stubborn still, shook his head again. "It always comes to that. They'll never stop pushing us... not until we're back on our knees, or better for them, six more feet under."

Vander went to interrupt, but the wiry young man was quick to cut him off, dropping his brush back into the bucket - ignoring Vander's growl when some splattered over his boots in response - before picking up a sanding, getting work ridding the window framing of bumps.

Worrying at your lip - stopping before you could split the skin, again - you made a move to stand, and gave Benzo a sharp look when he reached for you, "Getting snacks," You murmured quietly, pulling the thick jacket tight around you during the travel to the kitchen-area, surrounded by a early spring-chill, and an colder atmosphere with Vander and Silco.

It was supposed to break soon, by rain. You hoped that with the passing storm, would also come the pass of whatever cold storm had brewed between the two Sons of Zaun.

You could hope, and, while they were here with you, you could distract.

"Here, you've guys earned the good stuff," You said upon your return, Benzo immediately leaning over to hog the first honey-bun, far sticker and sweeter than the kind that would be found Downtown. Vander took his just as fast, all but cramming it into his mouth - you were surprised, but the furious speed in which he moved, that he didn't punch his own teeth out.

Silco was stone-still. Staring at Vander, eyes wide, lips tight and bloodless, and looking more statue than man. Calling his name, even softly, didn't seem to help and when you placed your hand on his shoulder to rouse him, he only continued to stare at Vander in pure, utter...

No. You didn't even know the name for the expression on his face, but you found yourself glad it wasn't directed at you. You were horrified just to look at it - you had no idea how Vander hadn't dropped dead from the full-force of Silco's glare.

"... what did you just say?"

Vander ignored him, focusing on his work.

"Silco, what's wrong?" You ask, quietly, and wishing you hadn't left the room, if only to find out what happened. Hands hesitate at your side, before, you're reaching up to brush some splatters of paint from angular cheekbones but the taller man is stepping forward, teeth bared like fangs ready to sink into flesh. "Silco-"

"Think about peace?" His repeat of Vander's words are croaked, anger choking at his words as he glowered at Vander. "Think about... are you serious? You want to stop?"

"I don't want people getting hurt! She got hit, whose next, Sil??" Vander hissed right back with a head jerk towards you. "I can't... we can't keep taking 1these kinda risks. We have to pull back, just... take a breath, organize ourselves-"

"We pull back, they storm right on in. Don't be foolish, even taking a second to breathe with be a second long enough for then to demolish us. Do you want that?" Silco breezed past you, growing so close to Vander that it was honestly concerning. Glancing at Benzo, bewilderment and confusion clear on your face didn't help, as he seemed to be intent on committing every detail to his bottle to memory, while Silco continuing harshly underbreath. "Do you want them to take control from us? Take back everything we've worked for? Do you want it to all be for nothing?"

"I don't want to keep fighting for nothing!"

Vander, like thunder crashing and rolling, all growls with threats of a downpour. His eyes are a storm, fury... and a bit weary, from how long the tempest against Piltover has lasted.

Silco, lightning sharp and devastating - it takes a single strike to take one out, and he does so with four words, to the man you had always known to be his brother, before he turns, and all but flashes out the door, and out of sight from your shop.

"You are a coward."

You don't say anything. You can't, really - too shocked, you can only quietly set your plate down, swallow thickly, before stepping towards the door. But Benzo, staggering from his seat, stands to take you by the elbow as Vander passes you, stomping out the door like a dark-cloud.

"When has-?"

"That? Been a few weeks now, I reckon... Don' blame yourself, doll. They're thick, but they'll b thinnin' out soon 'nough..."

Benzo pauses, before false-cheer fills his voice with some joke about picking up where they left off. You don't quiet hear it, staring out the door where the other Sons of Zaun had both stormed out of.

There's a noise in your ears. Static, almost, to go along with the sudden, cold weight of dread lying at the bottom of your stomach...

It's a weight that grows heavier in the days that follow.

Heavier, and heavier, even as the world, in other ways, grow lighter. The burden of a broken bakery is lifted quickly - Benzo seemed far more at ease working there by himself, and it was looking like things could be back to business as-usual within a week, maybe less.

It didn't loosen the solid-lead weight of dread inside you, because despite Benzo's help, despite the shop being repaired and cleaned back to normal operations, despite... you don't like to think about why the Enforcer patrols, even intimidation has slowly began to diminish, but despite that, there's still a heavy-dread inside you.

It grows with every day, every day that Silco isn't there.

You try not to think about how he just... left. Walked out, didn't even say goodbye to you. You know his fight against Topside was bad. Stressful, and it was hard to remember, but all of you were far younger than most would believe, knowing what some of the Children of Zaun had accomplished.

Children of Zaun wasn't actually that far off, in some cases. You knew from the tailor down the way, his daughter had scurried further down not long ago to join the fight after another heated argument...

You dreaded to find out what Silco had done, after leaving suddenly from such a venomous exchange with Vander. Still, you tried to keep spirits up. Opening the shop again was a good start, Gods know there were plenty that relied on your food, and you were more than happy to roll up your sleeves, tie on your apron, and work. Work, create, batter and bake...

It's not nearly enough to quiet then storm outside. But it's not enough that, when Vander shoves the front-door open in the middle of your baking without you immediately noticing, you freeze with flour up to your elbows and a smear of fresh apple filling on your chin.

You've never known Vander to be quiet. Not even as children - that's why, after you startle and stare at him, absently wiping off hands as you take in his soaked-form, tangled damp hair, and bandaged arm, not saying a word...

That weight inside you drops.

"When?" You whisper, amazed you still have a voice left. All thoughts have seemed to stop otherwise, and only static fills your mind. "Where?"

Why?

"River. He... I..." His hand hovered over the bandage part of his arm, as if he's too disturbed to even touch it. Vander swallows, grey eyes on the ground, before he finally glances up to you. "I... couldn't find him. Afterwards... raining. T'much blood-"

Cuts himself off - none of the boys liked to give the gory details, but you could imagine. Enforcer guns, batons...

It never seemed possible that anything of mortal-creation could take out a man like Silco. But maybe that was just the grief talking, denial-stage already in full-swing.

Vander seems to be on the same boat, croaking out as he takes in your far, far too-still body at the news, "I... I shoulda... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," You say, numb with the lie. "I... it's okay, Vander. You did all you could."

Grey eyes squeeze shut, as if you personally struck a blow to him with your words. His hand comes down on his bandaged-wrapped are, gripping it tight enough that whatever wound lies beneath must sting at the painful pressure, but the Son of Zaun doesn't make a sound. Doesn't speak, Vander just... leaves.

Turns, walks out, and not even attempting a goodbye.

Vander leaves you, and for a moment, the only thing you can do is to turn back to the counter, gripping it with shaky-hands and staring numbly at... what was it? What was the world like, only moments ago, before you knew?

You don't remember, and you don't try to. Because that weight inside you was now all-around, pressing, breaking, crushing you...

It's crushing so hard that you can't speak, can't think.

You can only bring your flour-dusted hands to your face, cover your eyes, and cry.

Some weights, like that of dread and unknowing, has lightened. But it leaves you with a weight heavier than all the rest, and you would give anything, everything, to have the grief be a little less crushing then it is, leaving everything you know in ruins.