#[and appreciated. even when he's being annoying]

[prael]

Day 4: A Two-step Problem

Nmixx Sullyoon & Kiss of Life Belle x male reader smut

words: 9,667 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"She's coming here? This weekend? To this house?" The concoction of shock and confusion, topped with a little bit of annoyance, is in both Sullyoon's tone and expression. "This house!? This same exact house that I am sitting in!?"

Her outburst quickly settles into a sulk as she slouches in her dining chair. Her father turns to your mother for help that she doesn't offer. He's on his own with this one.

"Look," he starts gently. "She's my daughter too and I want to get to know her. I haven't seen her in years."

"You barely talk about her." Sullyoon counters, arms folded defensively across her chest. Her tone is laced with accusation. "I don't know anything about her."

Your mother shoots Sullyoon a glare, one that causes Sullyoon to step well over the line.

"Why are you okay with this? Another daughter that's not even yours coming into our home?"

You stare at your food, praying for the ordeal to be over.

"Stop being silly," your mother reprimands. "You are my daughter, and I'll treat Belle as my own too."

Sullyoon gives you a side-eye, and while she doesn't say anything else, you can see how desperate she is for you to take issue with it too. While you may not be as opposed as Sullyoon, you do have a reservation. "Where will she sleep?" You finally speak up, looking at your mother.

"Sullyoon, can she stay in your room?" she asks.

"No!" Sullyoon snaps. It's clear that she's still processing her frustration.

"It's fine." You turn to your mother. "She can take my room, I'll take the couch."

Sullyoon goes quiet for a moment, her mouth falling open in shock. She looks almost offended that you're not fighting by her side. Then she asks, "What's wrong with you?" and rolls her eyes when your answer comes in the form of an innocent shrug.

"Thank you," your stepfather says, shooting you an appreciative smile. Sullyoon's chair scrapes the floor as she stands up abruptly.

"I'm done." After a curt announcement of departure, she's already headed to her room.

Her father sighs. "Let her go," your mother advises. "She'll come around."

-

A few hours have passed since the revelation and you're in your room. Soft pillows beneath your lower back and slouched against the wall. The soft tones of music from the speaker across the room fill the air.

"Can you believe that shit?" Sullyoon curses the whole idea. "Belle, my long-lost sister, is coming to live here. What are we, some kind of 90s sitcom?"

"Can we not do this right now?" You respond, struggling to focus on both her and her words at one time.

"I thought you were on my side." She pauses for a moment and lets out a soft sigh. "You didn't even argue it."

"It's not that deep, Sullyoon," you grunt out the words, as her hot breath hits your face.

"Yeah well..." She falters. "...It is to me." You feel her fingers thread through your hair before finding a handful of the short strands at the base of your skull. You hiss, feeling her pull on them lightly, but you don't fight back. "Do you think she'll be annoying? And say loads of weird American things?"

"I don't care," you dismiss, putting your hand on her thigh and holding the flesh tight.

"Oh." She clears her throat and adjusts her position. "Well, I do care."

"You might get along." Your tone lacks commitment. It's almost impossible to focus with the smell of her perfume filling your nostrils. You bury your face into the crook of her neck. "You smell so good."

"I bet she thinks she's better than us."

"Sullyoon!" you snap. "For fuck sake!" You put your hand on her waist and lift her off your lap, letting her naked form fall lazily onto the bed beside you. "Conversation or sex, choose one."

"Hey!" She exclaims, annoyed about being pulled free from your cock.

Your irritation quickly fades away as you turn your head to look at her. Her dark hair spills out beneath her, messy, wavy and soft. Her smile is mischievous while her dark eyes sparkle with humour and intrigue. A million thoughts cross your mind but none of them can beat out the singular reminder that she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen. Her features are uniquely hers and yet, they seem perfectly matched to your taste.

"Okay, I'll stop talking about her then."

There is a shift in the energy of the room. She turns away from you, positioning herself on her knees and resting her cheek against the pillow below. There she lies in wait, ass on display for only you. You bite down on your bottom lip as you clamber behind her.

You reach out and wrap your hands around her hips, squeezing her flesh in between your fingertips. "Sullyoon." The syllables roll off your tongue. "Sometimes, things are hard." You press your cock, still coated in her slick juices, against her waiting cunt. "But you have to just take it."

You push into her pussy from behind. You watch the way the hole expands and stretches around you. The soft, pink walls give in to your intrusion. You hear the little gasp and moan that Sullyoon releases upon feeling you enter her again. You keep going until her round little ass is flush against your hips and the full length of your cock is buried inside her pussy.

From this angle, Sullyoon can do little more than submit. And so she does, allowing you to hold her by the hips, dragging her body back and forth until it moves in line with your rhythm.

"See?" you tease. "Feels better this way, doesn't it?"

"Fuck..." Sullyoon whines. "I hate when you do that."

"What?" You chuckle and spank her across the ass before grabbing a handful of her flesh once again. "When I talk down to you like that or when I make you feel like a little slut?"

"Yes." She squeezes her eyes shut. You listen to every pant and every moan. You feel her thighs shake and tremble against your skin. You know she loves this; there's no other reason why else she would allow you to take over her body and treat her this way. The two of you may bicker and argue and fight, but none of that matters when you're alone together in your bedroom, exploring one another. For all your arguments, you know there isn't another person in the world that feels as perfect wrapped in your arms.

As taboo as it may be.

She looks at you over her shoulder through misty brown eyes with pouted lips, looking all too delicious to touch. "Please," she begs in a small voice that sends a chill up your spine. "Harder. Faster."

"Good girl." The words flow seamlessly from your lips. You hold tighter onto her ass, for fear of the pleasure making her collapse against the bed. You start pounding into her from behind. Each slap of your hips connecting against her ass rings out against the silence of the room.

Sullyoon's hand grips the pillow beneath her head, squeezing it tight as her outlet for her building pleasure. It becomes too much, and she lets out a long moan. You're quick to lean in, take hold of her head and bury her face against the pillow.

"Quiet," you scold. You slide your fingers into her mouth and let them rest against her tongue. She welcomes you in, letting her lips seal around your digits. Her tongue runs laps across the tips of your fingers and the sensation causes an involuntary twitch of your hips.

"There we go," you coo. You can tell by the way she squeezes down on your length that she likes it when you praise her. She might try to play tough and cold, but you've learnt exactly what buttons to push to get her melting at your touch.

You can feel yourself edging closer, and so you reach down further. Sullyoon's clit is sensitive when you press your finger against it, judging by the way she bites down on your fingers. It takes only a few gentle rubs to bring her to the same point as you.

She whimpers softly against your fingers. You can almost feel the muffled cries vibrating against your skin as the knot of pleasure in her tummy begins to unravel. "That's it," you whisper. "Be a good sister and cum with me."

Sullyoon bucks and thrashes in pleasure. She reaches her orgasm at the same time as you and the two of you ride out the waves together. With each throb, you fill her up until she's practically overflowing. Finally, she collapses against the bed and you follow her shortly after. Her chest heaves against the bedsheets, tired and worn, and finally satisfied.

"You can't call me that," she complains, voice strained. "It's not cute, it's gross."

"And yet every time I do, you seem to cum harder," you respond simply. She rolls her eyes and scoffs, before shuffling into your embrace and resting her head against your chest. You both lay in silence, spent bodies wrapped up in each other's warmth. You absent-mindedly draw circles along her bare arm while she draws in deep breaths against your chest.

"I'm serious about this Belle thing." She breaks the quietude, her voice soft. You sigh heavily. "I don't want her here."

-

And yet, Saturday comes around just like clockwork.

The five of you sit awkwardly in the living room. A tray of drinks rests on the coffee table, untouched, and Sullyoon keeps shooting you pointed glares. The situation could be cut with a knife.

"It's such a long journey," Belle explains, talking fast and with a certain chirp in her voice. "We had to leave at five AM for the airport. It was still dark!"

"Oh my!" Your mother gushes. "So you must be tired." Sullyoon rolls her eyes hard.

"A little," Belle admits. "But I slept most of the flight so it's okay."

"Don't worry," you add politely. "It's a quiet area, you'll be able to sleep in tomorrow." She has only been here an hours but it's impossible to deny how charming Belle is. She's got a wide smile and sweet expressions—just a natural aura about her that makes her easy to speak to. It doesn't hurt that she's pretty, with large, dewy brown eyes, and soft hair resting on her shoulders. She wears a pair of jeans that hug her legs tightly and a top that's tied above her belly button.

She gives you this wide smile, that she's already given countless times, and thanks you, adding, "That sounds like heaven." Sullyoon's scoff catches everyone's attention. Four pairs of eyes fall on her and she squirms, hating the spotlight.

"Something wrong, dear?" your mom asks. Sullyoon shakes her head and reaches forward to grab her glass of lemonade. You can't help but let out a tiny laugh. Your mother shoots you both a suspicious glare but doesn't say anything.

You hadn't even noticed that Belle had been looking at you, but when you turn to meet her gaze you feel your stomach flip upside down. It could just be your overactive imagination but something in the look she's giving you has you flustered. Then she laughs too, albeit nervously. Your cheeks warm up and suddenly you have to look away.

"It's almost lunch, how about you help us in the kitchen, Sullyoon." Then your mother looks at you, "and you can show Belle where she'll be sleeping."

"Uh, sure," you reply, your words being met by Sullyoon shooting daggers with her eyes. Once your parents and your stepsister are out of sight, you gesture to Belle and she stands.

"The house is huge," she remarks, following you out of the room. "My old place was basically a box compared to this."

"Well, we live in the suburbs." You shrug. "I can show you around town later if you want." The two of you head up the staircase to where the bedrooms reside.

"You'd do that for me? Really?"

"Of course," you chuckle. Her giggles send goosebumps across your flesh. You pause for a moment and point down the hallway, "Mine is this way."

"This is so cool," Belle whispers. Really? A house is cool? "I always lived in this little studio apartment. My bed was right next to my kitchen."

Her casual remarks about her life, however mundane they are, are captivating. It's nice to meet someone so different from your usual friend group. "What was it like in the city?"

"Different from here," Belle responds. "It's loud all the time and the streets are busy, no matter the time or day." You push open the door to your bedroom and she follows in while she continues, "It was exciting but also way too much, you know? The parties were crazy—like movie-level crazy."

You gently nod as her thoughts trail off and she starts looking around the room. You watch as she takes it all in. Having made at least half an effort to clear some space for her, it looked kind of bare, compared to usual anyway. "Here," you offer, leading her over to your wardrobe. You slide open a couple of doors and explain, "This section is empty and you can hang your clothes up here."

"You didn't have to. I've lived out of my suitcase before when I travelled."

"No bother. You're a guest, make yourself comfortable." You gesture around the room. "I cleared the desk in case you need it and the sheets are fresh." (Which is good, after what you and Sullyoon had been doing the night before.)

"Thank you. This is already better than I could have ever hoped." When Belle smiles again, you feel a little flutter in your tummy. "Sorry about earlier," she adds. "Was your sister mad because of me?"

"She'll come around." You give a half-hearted assurance. Sullyoon's feelings aren't yours to share, but Belle does deserve some peace of mind. "Don't worry about her."

"I always wanted a sister, I hope she likes me." Belle nods gently, a faint expression of disappointment flashing across her face before fading back to neutral. She pauses and purses her lips together for a second. "And...you? Are you happy I'm here?"

"I've had to put up with one annoying step-sister for a long time, a second can't be much worse," you joke. A laugh leaves her lips and the tension dissolves instantly. The two of you stay silent for a few moments before you notice Belle starting to squint. "What's wrong?"

"It's really hot in here." She places her hand on her forehead as if checking her temperature. The thick beams of sunlight that are streaming in through the open curtains highlight her point. Sweat has started to gather on her neck and brow.

"Lemme fix that." You push open a window and draw a blind down. Belle waits patiently behind you as the bright morning sun vanishes into a muted grey. "There we go," you announce, turning around—and coming face-to-face with her. You freeze as if trapped by her intense gaze.

Her cheeks are flushed and her skin is hot. Beads of sweat shimmer in the sunlight. She stares at you, silently saying something that you can't quite decode. She smells sweet, like vanilla.

"Thanks." Her voice is soft, almost as delicate as the moment itself.

"You're welcome..." You say back, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

"Uh, how about the rest of the house?"

"What about it?"

"Aren't you supposed to be showing me around?" She laughs and her soft tone breaks the tension. You shake the daze out of your mind and clear your throat.

"Of course. Let's go."

You point out the rest of the rooms, and then show her the bathroom, explaining, "My parents have their own so this is basically ours." As you head downstairs, you let her know, "Just try not to take the world's longest showers like Sullyoon." Belle laughs, which gives you the chance to admire how cute she looks when she's smiling.

-

It's been a low-key couple of days. Belle spent the whole time fawning over how cool it was to live out in the suburbs and subtly cursing how she had grown tired of the city—though half it felt like a sly brag. You had taken her into town the day before last, and while you're sure she would have been fine going back alone, she's asking you to take her.

Much to the annoyance of a certain someone.

"But Sunday is movie night," Sullyoon complains, lying on her bed. You're standing in the doorway, arms folded, telling her about your plan to accompany Belle.

"I'll be back in time and we can watch whatever movie you pick this week," you dismiss, already knowing she isn't going to listen to any attempt of yours to compromise. "Also, you could come with us."

"If I did come, then I would be hanging out with her, and I don't want to hang out with her." Sullyoon states blankly.

A quick glance to your side and you see Belle, standing in the hallway, hearing everything that Sullyoon is saying. There's a small pout that forms on her lips. A glimmer of sadness in her eyes. You feel a pang of sympathy. While Belle tries to smile as if it's nothing, you see right through the facade.

"Don't worry," she says. "I can go on my own." And with that, she heads off downstairs. You turn to your stepsister and shoot her a harsh glare.

"C'mon! Don't give me that look." Sullyoon pouts dramatically. "She's a big girl, she's used to being independent."

"Would it kill you to at least get to know her?"

"You're busy doing that for the both of us." She shoots an accusatory look. "Is one step-sister not enough?" Her words drip with insinuation, and you feel your face flush at what she's implying. You roll your eyes and curse at her, which makes her stand and walk towards you. Before she speaks, she pulls you by the arms and closes her door. "Oh come on! Admit it," she presses. "You think she's cute, huh?"

"So what?" You shrug and avert your gaze, cheeks red.

Sullyoon pauses, processing your answer. "Do you wanna fuck her?"

"Sullyoon!" You snap, feeling the blood rush to your head.

Her grin is devious, "You want her to replace me? Huh?" She teases. "Get a brand new stepsister who sucks your dick extra well?"

"You're sick."

"Oh, please. I've seen the way you two look at each other. Don't be surprised if she offers to top and tail with you tonight." Sullyoon smirks, "The couch must be so uncomfortable." Her voice is laced with sarcasm.

-

She said it was just going to be for essentials. A few shops to pick up items that didn't fit in her bags for the plane trip over. Yet, somehow, you find yourself browsing designer dresses for sale.

"It's my first weekend in a new country," she explains, pulling a silk purple dress free and pressing it up against her body. "Don't I deserve to treat myself?"

"I guess, but dresses like this? When are you planning on wearing them?"

"To dinners. To a club. On a date?" She cocks an eyebrow. "Who knows?"

"Wouldn't it be better to make the plans and then buy the dress?" You suggest with a laugh. Though you hate to admit it, the sleek material would look great on her.

"You hungry?" she asks. "How about dinner?"

"We should wait until we're home. Mum is expecting us both."

"Do you always do what you're told?" Belle pries.

"No...I—" You hesitate. She tilts her head to the side and flashes you a mischievous grin.

"Great. I'll get changed into this, we can dump the bags in the car and find a nice restaurant." She declares decisively. After rummaging around her bag for her wallet, she turns to face you. "Wish me luck, it's probably expensive."

"Wait—"

She's walking away before you can protest. You watch as she goes up to the woman running the place and pays for the dress. After that, Belle disappears behind a dressing screen. All the while, you're standing there, holding bags and looking confused.

There are a few silent moments. Ones where you try to formulate an excuse to turn her down; but just as quickly as they appear, the arguments vanish. In reality, the idea of a nice meal with Belle isn't exactly unappealing.

The curtain is drawn back, and she appears.

Wow.

It takes less than a second for your eyes to land on her waist. How the deep purple fabric hugs her figure so nicely, wrapping tight around her curves and squeezing her form. It's strapless and plunges into a v-neck that shows off so much skin. The hem stops mid-thigh and swishes with the movement of her hips.

"So? How do I look?"

You swallow, clearing a lump in your throat. "Incredible."

"That means you're paying for dinner then."

"Hey!" You start to protest. But it's no use, she's already laughing, slipping on a pair of white heels that pull the outfit together perfectly.

The restaurant she chose is tucked away from the main street. The soft yellow light glows through a window pane, casting a warm haze onto the sidewalk below. She holds your arm as she walks, using you for balance. The smell of her perfume hits you just as hard as her outfit does, sweet like vanilla.

"This place looks pretty fancy, right?" she asks with a cheeky smile. "You won't mind treating me, will you? After all, I have moved halfway around the world."

You roll your eyes and follow her in. A waiter welcomes you both, and seats you at a small booth in the corner of the dining room. A candle flickers in the centre, between glasses and cutlery. Belle scans the menu and occasionally takes sneaky glances across the table.

"So, how often do you take girls on dates?" she pries. "Not counting me."

"It's not that often, really."

"Then I must be special," she remarks playfully. "But don't worry, you're pretty cute too."

"Oh yeah?" You decide to play along. "Enough for a second date?"

"Hmm... maybe." The conversation is light and easy and just seems to flow naturally without needing any prompts or effort from either end.

Once you've ordered, Belle sips on a glass of wine, staring at you intently, her gaze unwavering, "I wish Sullyoon liked me as much as you do." Her statement catches you off-guard.

"I'm sorry for the way she's acting," you apologise. "She's probably fearing being replaced. She has always been a bit of a daddy's girl."

"I guess I can understand where she's coming from," Belle concedes, swirling the drink in her glass, watching as the crimson liquid swirls around gracefully. "I would be hesitant too. Change can suck sometimes, especially when it's unexpected." She takes a sip and then continues, "I was talking to my dad for a while, about coming over. And you know what he would talk to me about, every time?"

"Sullyoon."

Belle chuckles lightly and puts down her drink. "Yeah. He couldn't help himself. Always talking about the things she was doing. The friends she had. All those clubs she took part in. Made me so excited to meet her."

"Oh..." Now you understand.

"When I got here and realised that I wasn't gonna get a warm reception, it kinda hurt."

"Yeah. I know she can be...stubborn. Sometimes." You sigh. "Don't give up though, I know you'll get to know each other eventually."

She looks at you with hopeful eyes. "You really think so?"

"She warmed up to me eventually." You shrug and take a bite from your food.

"And how long did that take?" Belle asks, her tone playful once more.

"A couple of years."

She laughs again. "Ah, shit." She sits back in her seat, and then looks at you, intrigued. "What changed?"

"Maybe we realised we have stuff in common, or that we were more similar than we thought."

Belle tilts her head to the side, seemingly mulling over what you said. She purses her lips and squints her eyes like she's trying to connect invisible dots. She stabs at her pasta and silently returns to her food.

"What was that?" you ask.

"Nothing," she dismisses. "So, I heard you mentioning a movie night."

"Yeah," you reply. "It's kind of a tradition. We pick a shitty movie, order some pizza, and make fun of it."

"Guess I'm ruining that now?" she suggests.

"It's just one time, we've missed it before and I'm sure we'll miss it again."

"Maybe next week I can join you?"

You think about how movie nights usually end. Sullyoon, spread across a bed, with your head between her legs. You remember the feeling of her soft skin and warmth, the sound of her moans filling the air. And now that memory includes Belle sitting beside you both.

You choke on your drink slightly.

"Oh God." Belle gasps. "What did I say?"

"Nothing, drink just went to the wrong place is all." You cough. "Yeah, sure, you can join us."

Time passes so easily. The conversation is nice, and she's such an interesting woman. She talks about her life, the places she has been and the people she has known. And you reciprocate. By the time the check arrives, you feel like you've known each other for much longer than four days.

"You know, my dad talked about helping me find my own place. I can't keep your room forever," she admits as she's finishing up her last drink.

"That's fine, I can survive on the sofa."

Belle chuckles at that. "I feel bad for putting you out like this." Her fingers reach out to brush yours, lingering there momentarily before retracting. The contact sends a shiver up your spine. "How about we share the bed?"

"Excuse me?" you say in shock. She laughs again.

"Not in that way. I mean, we can put pillows between us or something. It wouldn't be weird, just two siblings sleeping in the same room." She pauses and chuckles. "Unless you snore."

"I don't!"

"Well, I guess we'll find out."

-

When you finally return home, the house is eerily quiet. Both your parents' cars are missing and Sullyoon has retired to her room. Belle carries her purchases while you follow close behind.

As you step onto the landing, Sullyoon's bedroom door opens. She's dressed in one of your shirts. The light that floods out highlights how long her legs are, with her toned thighs in full view. She stands and watches Belle walk into your shared bedroom, before turning her attention to you. "So?" She asks, arms folding.

"So, what?" you counter.

"You going to apologise for ruining my weekend?" she huffs, arms crossing defensively. Her pouty expression almost tempts you to bite back.

"You were invited."

Sullyoon scoffs. "Oh yeah. So that I could third-wheel. No thanks."

You pause and chew your bottom lip. "Did you get to watch the movie at least?"

"Yes, alone." Her frown intensifies. You try not to laugh at how adorable she looks. "Goodnight."

She stomps back into her room and closes the door behind herself. You bite back an amused smirk. Sullyoon has the tendency to be petty, but you never seem to realise how far she'll go until she does it. Still, you decide not to dwell on it, knowing that Sullyoon would rather ignore the problem than confront it directly. She'll forgive you when she decides to.

You round the corner into your room, bags in hand, and that's when you see her, pulling down the zipper that runs along her spine. The fabric falls in ripples and reveals her back. From the arch between her shoulders down to the dimples in her lower back, the milky skin is exposed. Your throat dries up instantly.

"How am I supposed to feel about you ogling me like that?" Belle jokes, glancing at you over her shoulder. Her eyes shimmer with intrigue.

"Sorry." You quickly spit and then turn around. She doesn't say anything but you hear her light steps over the carpet as she rounds you and closes the bedroom door.

"I was joking," she says while facing you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and ends right above the cup of her bra. She looks like a model straight out of the pages of some lingerie catalogue. You struggle to stay composed.

"So was I," you reply, pretending to be cool while you turn away again to set the bags down in the corner of the room. Belle laughs under her breath.

"I've gotten used to living alone. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can put something on, but I'm used to sleeping in nothing but the covers." she offers. "But I don't mind, honestly."

The silence settles between you two and becomes deafening. You let out a nervous sigh. "It's okay," you finally state, grabbing shorts and a shirt and heading to the bathroom to change. "Just give me a moment." Once inside, you strip yourself of your clothes and run the water from the tap. You cup your hands together and fill them before splashing the cold water onto your face. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

This isn't a big deal. It doesn't have to be. You're going to be cool about the whole thing. You can handle having another gorgeous stepsister lying beside you in bed. It won't be hard at all.

You put your clothes on and march out of the bathroom. Belle has made herself comfortable in your bed, laying back against the pillow with her phone in hand. Her eyelids are half-open as she scrolls through social media apps lazily. The bedsheets cover her up to her shoulders.

"I've always slept on the left," she states absently, eyes still glued to her phone screen. You gulp. She pats the empty space beside her, invitingly. "That means you're on the right."

She turns off her phone as you enter the bed. As you slide under the covers, she turns and slides away to give you room. Your legs brush against hers by accident. Her smooth calves rub against yours and you freeze up. Then you feel her hand reaching out, touching your arm gently before drawing away again.

"Are you shy?" she asks with a tiny giggle.

"No," you lie, hoping that your cheeks aren't too flushed from embarrassment. The room goes pitch black when she flicks off the lamp. Only the distant glow of a street light shines through the curtains. Your eyes adjust and you make out her silhouette against the bedsheets.

"Just relax." Her voice echoes softly in the dark. She places her hand atop yours and squeezes firmly. She brushes her fingertips up along your forearm, stopping briefly near your elbow before trailing them back down again. Each stroke sends little shivers shooting up and down your spine. The effect of her touch is hypnotising; a powerful yet delicate combination of warmth and tenderness.

The movements continue for a while, in silence, as your eyes grow heavy.

"Sweet dreams," she whispers.

"Night Belle," you manage to mutter. Before you know it, you drift off to sleep.

-

At first, you don't even register the sensation, as if you are in a dream. First, it's the tickling of her hair in your face, followed by the feeling of her soft skin in your hand. Then it's the warmth, all along the front of your body. Belle is pressed against you tightly and your arm is around her. Holding her as the little spoon.

Your eyes flicker open.

You lay there in shock, unsure what to do, but also unwilling to move. The warmth radiates off of her, soothing every inch of you that she touches. Her breathing rises and falls slowly, as though she hasn't stirred yet. Her fragrance surrounds you, intoxicatingly sweet, leaving you lightheaded.

You try to adjust the arm that's trapped under her but she threatens to stir awake, mumbling unintelligibly against the pillow, as she shuffles around to get comfortable against you again. She moves her body against yours and presses harder.

Suddenly, you become very aware of exactly which parts of your bodies are making contact. Her ass grinds up against your crotch and the sensation causes a wave of heat to course throughout your entire core. Panic kicks in as you will your morning wood to retreat as quickly as possible. Yet no amount of willpower can stop the natural reaction to her plush butt cheeks.

You focus your attention elsewhere, trying to distract yourself by thinking of mundane tasks to pass the time—anything to prevent yourself from acknowledging your growing arousal. You count the speckles on the ceiling and list off ingredients of your favourite foods.

It doesn't work.

You have to get out. You start by pulling away your body, minimising the contact and creating separation. But then there's your arm, still stuck under her. Gently, ever so gently, you lift yourself away, trying to drag your limb free.

"Leaving already?" comes Belle's question. Her tone drips with mock offence.

"What? Uhhh.." you stutter. Shit. Not good.

Belle flips around to face you. In the morning glow, she's positively radiant. A beautiful angel bathed in warm sunlight. Her silky hair flows delicately as she turns. She flashes a devilish smile and says, "Look at that, our first night sharing a bed and you're already cuddling with me."

You're speechless. Blood rushes to your cheeks and you feel your heart beat faster in your chest.

"It was nice," she smiles. "Even if you were poking me in the ass."

Your jaw drops. Shame bubbles in the pit of your stomach and causes your skin to prickle. She laughs and pushes the sheets down to your waists. She's fucking topless. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of her breasts, perfect teardrops that hang deliciously against her chest, crowned by erect pink nipples. The sight sends you reeling into total disarray.

"You can't help it, I know." Her voice cuts through your dazed thoughts like a blade slicing through butter. "All guys wake up horny." She shuffles a little closer. "I can help it, though." Her hand snakes down beneath the sheet, into your shorts, and suddenly there's the unmistakable sensation of her fingers wrapped around your cock.

"Belle—" Her name leaves your throat weak and cracked. Heat envelops you and your brain goes into overdrive. No way is this real.

"Shhh," she whispers, leaning in until her lips are hovering close to yours. "I want to help," she says with a mischievous smirk.

She starts slowly stroking your dick. At first, it feels strange and foreign, but gradually melts into pleasure as the friction increases. Belle continues to stare, watching as the corners of your mouth twitch and twist, as if studying her own effect on you. Every time your breath hitches she seems to gain more confidence. She grips tighter and works her wrist faster, building up a steady rhythm.

"See, we can share this room." She keeps moving her hand up and down in perfect strokes, varying the pace every few seconds. Sometimes fast and firm, then slow and gentle. It's enough to drive anyone mad. "Isn't it great?"

"This is so messed up," you manage to groan out as your hips lift involuntarily.

"Is it?" She kisses the corner of your mouth. "Doesn't seem that bad to me."

She's right. It feels incredible. Despite everything, you don't want her to stop. You lean into her, desperate for her to kiss you, but instead, she pulls away, giggling softly. That only serves to frustrate you further, which seems to encourage her even more. She quickens her pace and leans closer to you again, stopping inches away from kissing distance once more.

Your eyes grow heavy again, but this time it's not sleep that overtakes you. Instead, it's bliss.

"Belle, what the fuck..." you whisper. Pleasure is burning hot in the base of your gut. Her wrist rolls as she jerks you off harder. "Why..."

She lets you go, hand slipping out of your shorts as quickly as it entered. "Here." She cups your hand in her own and pulls it towards her chest. "Feel free to touch." You know what happens when you allow temptation to guide your actions. Sullyoon is a case and point.

Despite that, you're unable to resist.

Her breast fits perfectly in your palm. So soft. Your fingers graze over the sensitive nipple. The moans that follow sound heavenly, even more so when accompanied by her coy smile. Without warning, her lips press against yours, sealing off any sort of protest. Her tongue dances across your bottom lip and into your mouth. Soft. Wet. Hot.

Heat pools between your legs. Her hand returns to its former place around your cock. She's so slow now, achingly deliberate. Your mind spins endlessly; overwhelmed by desire.

When you pull back, she gives a sly wink, "Tell me what you think, hm?"

"It feels so fucking good," you sigh. She responds with another kiss. The room fades to silence beyond your muffled moaning and wet kissing sounds. Time itself seems to grind to a halt.

"I knew you'd enjoy it," she murmurs into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe before continuing, "Now...how about you return the favour?" Her words trail off as she lifts one of your fingers into her mouth. Her tongue twirls around it for a moment and then releases it with a wet pop.

"Sure," you mutter, too distracted to care about anything else. You slip your hand beneath the duvet and then push at her hip, turning her onto her back. You admire her upper body. From her chest to the curve of her hips, to the dip of her waist, she looks divine. Belle lies back and spreads her legs. And when your hand snakes between her thighs, she raises her arms above her head and grips the pillow tight.

"Fuck," she gasps as your fingertips run along her slit gently, enjoying how she bucks upwards to meet your digits.

"You're soaked," you marvel.

Belle grins wickedly and exhales slowly. "Mhm," she agrees. "And who's fault is that?"

"Me," you respond quickly.

You brush up and down her pussy with agonising slowness, revelling in how her slick fluids cling to your fingers, and coat them in their essence. After a few seconds of exploration, you circle her clit slowly with two fingertips. Her eyes snap shut instantly and she whimpers softly under her breath. It's mesmerising. She squirms wildly, biting down hard on her bottom lip to stifle her squeals of ecstasy.

Then she lets out this long drawn-out moan while she squeezes the pillow tight against the back of her head. "Fuck," she curses.

Your finger sinks inside of her effortlessly.

"T-that feels..." she whimpers between staggered breaths. You pump in and out of her, curling upwards against her walls every single time. Her hips sway to meet your thrusts, matching them perfectly. The sight drives you insane.

You withdraw your finger from her depths and circle it across her folds. Her legs tremble in anticipation.

"Please," she begs. Your cock throbs painfully.

She tilts her head backwards, baring the pale skin of her neck to you. An offering. One you take happily.

You press your lips against her soft flesh, savouring her taste. Her scent overwhelms you. You can feel her pulse thrumming frantically just beneath the surface of her skin. There's something intensely primal about being able to feel someone else's heartbeat racing against your own.

Your teeth clamp down on the area between her jaw and collarbone, holding her securely as you explore every inch of her sex with newfound fervour.

It isn't long until she writhes beneath you, panting heavily while clinging desperately to the bedsheets around her. Your movements grow faster, more frantic. Hungry even.

She threatens to get loud, and you know how bad that could be. There's a reason Sullyoon always comes into your room, it's the furthest from your parents, and even then you find yourself putting a palm over her mouth. Now it's just one thin wall. One thin wall separates Belle's moans from Sullyoon's ears.

So you shut her up the best way you know how.

She seems surprised when your mouth crashes against hers, silencing her squeals with your tongue, but the feeling is fleeting. Her arms wrap around the back of your neck, pulling her closer towards you. She tastes like strawberries and smells faintly of vanilla.

You absorb her moans into your mouth as she cums on your hand.

Her thighs tighten around you, locking your fingers deep within her core. She shudders violently as waves of pleasure wrack through her frame. Slowly but surely she relaxes again, letting out contented sighs mixed with tiny giggles of delight. When she opens her eyes again, her pupils are dilated and wide, shining brightly. She stares up at you dreamily. Her cheeks flushed red. Lips plump from kisses.

"Holy shit." Belle exhales hard before speaking again. Her voice still shakes with euphoria. "Good morning indeed."

"Yeah," you chuckle, rolling back to give her space.

"No," she stops you by placing a hand on your stomach. "We haven't finished."

"We haven't?"

"You haven't." She runs a hand down your body until it's back to how all this started. This time, she pushes your shorts clear of your hips and lets your erection spring free. She's climbing up and over you as she speaks, "Let me return the favour. We're family now."

Then she takes you into her mouth. Your thoughts blur together into a haze of lust and arousal, blinding your vision temporarily. Everything else fades away except for this girl who sucks your dick like she needs it to survive. Her tongue swirls around the crown of your tip teasingly while she bobs back and forth steadily. She hums around you, sending vibrations reverberating throughout your entire length, sending tingles shooting up and down your spine.

As her effort rises, so does she. Onto all fours and swinging a leg over yours. She's giving you this look—this hungry stare. You're hers now. Totally at her mercy. She keeps eye contact as she sucks you deeper than before. Then, without warning, her head lifts away from your cock completely, leaving behind a slick trail of spittle dripping down her chin. She wipes it away with her knuckles nonchalantly. Still wearing that predatory expression. Something about the action, the confidence of it, it makes you shiver.

She starts to stroke you, right before she dips her pretty face down to place her lips on your balls. Then it's her tongue, warm and wet against the sensitive skin. She alternates between tender kisses and loving licks all while staring up past your cock to meet your gaze. It's unbelievably hot.

"Don't cum yet," she whispers sweetly before returning her mouth around your length again.

"Can't promise anything," you groan back.

"Cute," she murmurs around your shaft.

Belle works you for a while. Those smokey eyes watch your every involuntary reaction while she worships your cock. Every twitch gets a quiet giggle. Every choked moan is met with a little lick across the tip.

It doesn't take long until the fire in your belly begins to spread.

"Belle," you strain, barely keeping a hold of your composure. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Not yet," she says with a smirk. "Here."

She shifts ever so slightly again, pushing her chest towards her pumping hand. She presses your tip against the hard nipple and jerks you off, alternating between the stiff buds. All you can do is watch, totally transfixed by what's happening before you. Her movements grow quicker and more frantic. Until it becomes almost too much.

You let it out, right onto her pretty little tits. Thick ropes across her flawless skin, painting her while she smiles. Even after you've been spent, she keeps working your shaft until it becomes painful. Oversensitivity has never felt sweeter.

"Oh god." Belle looks down at the mess you've made on her chest. Her grin is devious. She slips off the bed, taking a spare towel from underneath it and wiping at her chest and your crotch. Once you're both clean, she tucks you back in and crawls onto your torso. With a small bounce, she nestles down and lays on top of you. Her chest presses against yours.

"So," she coos, resting her chin on your sternum. "That happened."

You laugh and she quickly joins you. There's a feeling of shared exhilaration hanging between you both. A giddiness that comes from knowing you have just crossed an invisible boundary together.

"That was so fucking hot." Belle brings her palm up to cradle the side of your head affectionately. Her thumb brushes small circles against your temple, tracing patterns along the outline of your cheekbones. After a few seconds, her smile starts to fade. "Do you hate me?"

"Why would I?" You ask sincerely.

"I don't know. You're my step-brother. And I just..."

Her tone makes your heart ache ever so slightly, causing you to reach out for her face and cup her cheek in your palm. "If you hadn't made a move, I would have anyway," you confess.

"You're as messed up as me, then."

She has no idea.

-

Towel and a change of clothes in hand, you start to open the bathroom door when you hear your name. Sullyoon's distinct voice. You hesitate, halfway through the threshold, and turn back to see her walking down the corridor. "So, what, you don't like me anymore?"

"What are you talking about?" You retort defensively.

She puts on this mocking voice. "'Yes Belle, I'll take you to town.' 'Yes Belle, I'll take you to dinner and stand up the sister I actually know.' You've known her for two minutes! Two!"

You feel shame rising inside your chest. It's a weird feeling that just trying to be a good brother (or a bad one) has driven some divide between you and Sullyoon. You try to explain, "She's flown to a whole new country. It's difficult. We have to welcome her. If I didn't have to do it alone then we could see each other more." You sigh, "She really wants to hang out with you, you know."

Sullyoon crosses her arms, looking smug, "Oh, I bet."

"She does," you insist, trying your best not to appear too frustrated with her. "She was excited about movie night and she wants to join us next week." To this, Sullyoon simply scoffs.

"Yeah, right."

There's a pause where neither of you knows what to say. Eventually, it is broken by your stepsister's words.

"Doesn't change the fact that you left me alone on our night." She pouts dramatically, her bottom lip sticking out adorably. You roll your eyes at her antics. Sometimes, her stubbornness can border upon childishness.

"Sullyoon," you say flatly. "Come on. That's not fair."

She shrugs dismissively, clearly unconvinced. "What's not fair is that we haven't done it in almost a week."

You drop your towel and clothes on the bathroom floor and step out quickly towards her. You quickly hold your palm against her plump lips to silence her. "Not so loud."

She grabs your wrist, pulling her mouth free. "Our parents are out, calm down." But then she uses the leverage to yank you forward, right into her arms. "Maybe you should make it up to me."

"Sullyoon." You chastise. Boundaries exist for a reason, and doing this out here in the hallway is not what you agreed. You pry her away and walk back into the bathroom.

She follows each step, and as soon as you turn back to close the door, she's already slipping through and closing it herself. Before you have a chance to protest, Sullyoon's hands grab your face and bring you into a fierce kiss. She wastes no time sliding her tongue between your lips, demanding entry. You resist for only half a second before giving in fully, allowing yourself to become consumed by her passionate embrace. Her fingers grasp tufts of your hair tightly, tugging at the strands gently enough that it sends pleasant shivers running down your spine instead of hurting.

"The hell are you doing?" You eventually ask when she breaks away from your mouth, albeit reluctantly.

"Making up for lost time," she whispers as she slips down to her knees, grabbing the sides of your shorts.

You panic. "Hey, hey—" you exclaim as you stop her. She looks at you confused as to why you aren't happy with getting blown. She furrows her brows and then forcefully tugs them down. Your soft cock springs free, hanging mere inches from her waiting lips. Sullyoon licks them in anticipation while keeping her eyes trained solely upon yours.

But that's when she notices something.

There's a brief moment where the two of you lock gazes; where there should be nothing but lust swimming amidst those hazel irises, there is concern. She inhales sharply, catching a scent which throws her into alert mode. You can practically see the gears turning within her brain.

She stands up immediately, stares you dead in the eyes and says, "What the fuck is that?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, dumbass. You smell like sex and there's lipstick on your cock."

Shit.

"Belle!" Sullyoon calls as she marches back down the hall, bursting into your bedroom. You almost stumble over your shorts and rush to pull them back up to your waist. You dash behind her, terrified at what will happen next.

You round the corner into your room and Sullyoon is standing at the foot of your bed. Belle has her phone in hand, still lying in bed, with the covers up to her chest.

"Slut!" Sullyoon snaps.

"Excuse me?" Belle sits up straight, clutching the duvet to cover herself up properly, glaring back at your sister angrily.

"You heard me. Stay the fuck away from him. He's mine. My brother."

You wince in the silence. Belle just stares at the furious Sullyoon while the gears turn in her mind. Glancing back and forth between the two of you, she's clearly piecing it together. She smirks and then chuckles. "Oh my god! You're fucking him!"

"That's none of your business." Sullyoon retorts sharply.

"Now it all makes sense," she says while pointing her finger and waggling it between you and Sullyoon. "Do I threaten you?"

"No." Sullyoon lies, rather poorly.

"That's cute," Belle laughs. "So, what, you're in love with your brother?"

"No!" Sullyoon snaps, more assured of herself that time. "That's gross."

Belle gives you a look. "So it's just about the sex? What's the big deal?" She asks bluntly. "Clearly he has a type." She gestures to you and smirks again. "There's enough of him to share."

Sullyoon scoffs at her proposal. "Share?" she repeats incredulously. She glances back at you and you offer nothing but a shrug in reply. "Absolutely not," Sullyoon responds firmly.

"Why?" Belle questions innocently.

"I don't wanna."

"Come on," Belle whines, letting her frustration show for once. She throws up her hands dramatically as she argues passionately, "Look, I understand wanting to keep him all to yourself, believe me! He's adorable." As she speaks, her eyes rake up and down your body appreciatively, making heat rise to your face rapidly. "I'm not trying to steal him or anything. Actually, we might just have more in common than you think."

Sullyoon rolls her eyes. "Unbelievable," she sighs.

"Just picture it," Belle insists. "The three of us, here, together."

"What are you suggesting, exactly?" Sullyoon crosses her arms. She isn't going anywhere.

"A threesome."

"Belle..." you caution, but it goes unheard.

"You can even go first," Belle offers casually.

This is ridiculous. Completely absurd. You watch the scene unfold in disbelief. Sullyoon appears to mull the proposition over, her foot tapping impatiently against the carpet as she thinks. There's no way she will agree. Not in a million years would she even consider such a thing... Right?

Sullyoon closes her eyes briefly and inhales deeply through her nose before exhaling slowly. She looks between both of you several times until she finally meets your gaze again and nods decisively. "Fine. Let's do this. Right here, right now." Her tone has turned resolute, decisive, confident, and bordering on cocky.

Your mouth falls agape. Is this really happening?

"Wait. Really?" Belle seems equally shocked by this sudden change. Apparently neither one of you expected her acquiescence quite this quickly or easily.

You look between the two girls. Back and forth. They're doing the same. It's this strange triangle of hesitancy and confusion.

"So how do we...?" Sullyoon trails off, obviously unsure as to how things work from this point forward. She's used to your shared normal, your routine; just the two of you having sex. Spontaneity demands creativity.

"I don't know. It's kinda..." You chime in but don't know how to explain it.

Belle rolls her eyes at the two of you. "Oh my god. Come on." She scoots closer toward the edge of the bed, pulling the duvet away. It slides off her shoulders revealing the perfect curve of her bare breasts. It's not like you've forgotten the sight of them not long ago (nothing about Belle is forgettable) but it sure does hit differently under the context of the situation. She gestures to the bed behind her. "If you two want to fuck, just fuck."

Sullyoon shoots daggers at Belle but still decides to approach regardless. When she reaches you, she grabs your hand roughly and drags you onto the mattress with her. It's all so easy, so natural, falling into a tangle of limbs with her. Even if Belle is watching, even if she's sitting right there. None of that matters anymore because once your mouths collide, everything else fades into insignificance.

You taste the sweetness of her saliva. Feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Smell her familiar perfume, lavender and honey. She's all around you, encasing you completely and enveloping you entirely until all that remains is her. The kiss grows more intense, tongues wrestling as she straddles your lap and grinds her crotch down onto yours eagerly. Desperately seeking relief from the throbbing between her legs.

Then her fingers snake beneath your shirt and lift it over your head, breaking contact. She flings the clothing across the room carelessly before returning the attention to your lips once more. As she leans in for another embrace, you remember exactly where you are, who's there with you, and why they're here.

"Belle—" you start, breaking away mid-kiss. You gesture to her awkwardly as Sullyoon starts mouthing at your neck.

"Mmm?" She answers as she crawls towards your outstretched hand.

"Are you okay with this?"

She takes it upon herself to grab hold of your wrist and guide your palm right onto her naked breast, guiding it around with her own grip. She holds you there until you get the memo, massaging it gently between your digits whilst rubbing her fingertip atop your finger delicately, coaxing you to tweak her erect nipple. "Very," she finally replies.

"This is so weird," Sullyoon remarks, lifting away from your shoulder as Belle moves to her side and perches on her knees.

"It was already weird before I got involved," Belle jokes back, giving you a mischievous grin. She brings her free hand up to cup Sullyoon's cheek.

Sullyoon shies away, "I won't kiss you."

"I wouldn't expect it."

They look at each other for a moment, as if silently coming to some kind of understanding that transcends verbal language altogether. After a few more seconds pass by without further incident, you see them exchange conspiratorial smirks, as though they were sharing some hilarious joke at your expense.

Sullyoon pulls her top over her head, while Belle makes a move at your shorts. For the second time this morning, she's pulling your cock free from them, only this time, she's presenting it to Sullyoon. Her hand wraps around the shaft and starts to jerk it up and down, eliciting a low moan out of you which catches their collective attention. Belle smiles slyly.

In her delicate lace bra, Sullyoon lowers her head, opens her mouth and presents her tongue. Belle presses your tip onto her tongue and Sullyoon is quick to lap at it hungrily. She slides her hands up along your thighs, gripping firmly as she takes you deeper.

"That's hot," Belle murmurs softly, still pumping you.

All you can do is bite your lip and watch as your stepsisters service your length together, competing for its pleasure and attention. They swap turns, passing you back and forth while occasionally meeting in the middle, sucking along either side. It's a little awkward, the way they get in each other's way, but somehow that makes it hotter. Seeing their cheeks squish together, heads bump and lips brush accidentally while fighting for dominance over your dick.

At one point, when Sullyoon has sucked you all the way to the hilt, you notice Belle burying her fingers into Sullyoon's hair. Then the hand slides further, until it cups the back of your sister's head. Then she pushes, holding her in place while she swallows your entire length. Sullyoon panics at first, spluttering slightly against your shaft before she relaxes, settling into the gag, taking it for a bit longer before Belle releases her.

"Fuck!" Sullyoon gasps once she has the freedom to breathe. Strings of spittle connecting her open mouth to the tip of your cock. "Why?"

"Because it's hot," Belle shrugs.

"She's right," you manage to groan out. "Very hot."

"See?" Belle states triumphantly. She places her hand behind your sister's head again, "So do it again."

Sullyoon doesn't put up any resistance. Belle pushes her down, holding her down again as you enter deep into the wet confines of her throat. Sullyoon grips tightly at the flesh of your thighs and tries to relax her body. Despite the initial discomfort, there's no denying that having someone else dictate the terms of her oral servitude adds another layer of eroticism to the whole affair. Belle lets her resurface with a deep gasp for air, spit smeared across her chin, a thin strand dangling precariously between the underside of your erection and the tip of her tongue.

"Look at how pretty you are like that," Belle coos condescendingly while stroking Sullyoon's hair affectionately, almost lovingly even. In spite of everything else, the humiliation of being reduced to such an object, you catch Sullyoon blushing at the praise. Even more shocking, Sullyoon seems to lean into her caresses willingly.

"You've made her blush, Belle." You joke lightly, breaking some tension. It earns a glare from Sullyoon. The humour is short-lived.

After another couple of rounds, during which you have to fight every instinct within yourself not to cum in either of their mouths, Belle asks, "Can I see you ride him?"

One thing is becoming clear: Belle loves to watch.

Sullyoon sits up and wipes the excess saliva from her jawline with the back of her wrist, still panting slightly from being choked so thoroughly. After regaining some composure, she merely nods her consent. There's an underlying tension, however subtle, woven throughout their interaction now but a hint of mutual respect borne from seeing the other's ability to please you so well.

As Sullyoon stands, Belle seems to ponder. On her knees, staring at her sister's body, as if admiring every aspect of her figure; slender legs, tight waist, and cute ass. You get it. You've been there. Gawking at Sullyoon from afar, stealing glances while nobody notices, fantasising about those very curves. And yet it's surreal seeing somebody else experiencing it in front of you.

When Belle speaks up, she points to Sullyoon's shorts. "May I?"

"Go ahead," Sullyoon mutters nonchalantly, almost absentmindedly. Her full focus seems to revolve around climbing onto your lap. Meanwhile, Belle carefully peels away the fabric that clings to Sullyoon's lower body, easing her out of them until her legs come free. In a series of graceful motions, Belle has exposed Sullyoon down to nothing—helped because Sullyoon never wears underwear in the house.

As Sullyoon settles over your hips, resting on her knees, Belle crawls up next to you, positioning herself comfortably alongside your body. She props herself upright, leaning sideways against your torso for support. With a finger, she traces shapes across your chest, drawing abstract patterns into your skin idly while keeping her eyes locked exclusively forward, entranced by Sullyoon above you.

She takes hold of your dick at its base. Taking her time to drag both it and herself against each other, exchanging spit and slick fluids that coat them. There's a little sway and rotation to her hips, teasing incessantly until the anticipation threatens to drive you mad. The soft skin of her tummy looks so tasty from here, rising and falling slowly as she breathes and moving as she rolls her body.

There comes a point where enough is enough.

Just as you reach to grab yourself and guide it inside of her, Belle stretches her hand down between Sullyoon's legs and takes hold of your cock instead. She slaps your tip against your sister's swollen clit. Up and down, hitting the sensitive button repeatedly. All it takes is one errant flick downwards, however accidental (or not), and now your cockhead is nestled snugly into Sullyoon's entrance.

Belle draws her palm back up over your body. "Sorry, my bad," she giggles. Except you know better, seeing the smug twinkle that sparkles behind her irises. Before you can say anything more, Sullyoon succumbs to gravity and the pleasure it brings. Her hips sink down. Accepting inch after inch of you inside of her welcoming pussy until every last bit fits snuggly within her walls. She groans quietly.

It's all so familiar—the sensation of being enveloped by her velvety folds—but still wonderful nonetheless.

The shift of pressure when she begins to grind on top of you reminds you of those many times in the evening darkness, those instances when all that mattered was staying silent. Now you have an audience. Somebody watching intently from your side.

Belle watches the action unfold, a gasp here and giggle there. Sullyoon's body arches back subtly whilst she rocks her pelvis back and forth rhythmically atop yours. Her eyelids droop heavily as ecstasy surges through her veins, causing goosebumps to prickle over her smooth flesh as she rides.

"You like riding your brother's dick?"

"Y-Yes," Sullyoon stutters out, too preoccupied to register fully what she said. This sets off the deviant in Belle. You sense her growing bolder, more confident with her lecherous remarks knowing they'll be met with little to no resistance.

"You gonna cum on it?"

"Yes!" Sullyoon cries. Every downward motion presses her clit against your pubic bone, sending waves rippling through her petite frame. You grip her waist firmly, helping her. Her ass collides loudly against your thighs when she bottoms out each time. There's hardly any need for you to buck your hips and meet her.

"Yeah, you love fucking your stepbrother, don't you?"

Sullyoon only whimpers. Whatever argument or shame she might muster has fallen prey to her own desires. Now that she's been given permission—to indulge these fantasies openly with others—it appears as though she'll never go back. How can anyone turn away from such bliss?

And to your own amazement, neither of you seems fazed by the fact Belle bears witness to everything transpiring before her eyes.

"So dirty. Such a bad girl." Belle's tone is sultry sweet like honey dripping off a spoon. She leans closer and plants her lips against yours softly. It takes a second, a single heartbeat passing in silence where your tongue darts forward to greet hers. Suddenly the kiss has become something fierce and passionate—an exchange filled entirely with unbridled hunger that knows nothing besides passion itself. Nothing exists beyond its carnal needs right now except for maybe one thing...

An explosion erupts deep within Sullyoon; an eruption so violent that it causes her entire form to shake uncontrollably atop you. Her moans fill your bedroom, and her whole body draws tense before collapsing limply upon you like a marionette whose strings had just been cut loose by some unseen force. She quivers and writhes atop your throbbing shaft.

"Must be one hell of a ride," Belle comments through laboured breaths.

"Find out for yourself," you respond, matching her energy.

"Mmmm," she purrs thoughtfully whilst absentmindedly tracing circles across Sullyoon's exposed backside. "Let's switch, 'kay?"

You're quick to respond. Grabbing onto Sullyoon's ass cheeks, digging your fingertips firmly into each supple mound as you hoist her upwards. Your cock slips effortlessly free, causing a shudder to run through you both simultaneously before pulling apart completely. A mixture of sexual fluids oozes messily down her thighs when you set her aside on the mattress.

Now it's Belle's turn.

The atmosphere shifts drastically as she straddles you. Where previously things had taken on this languid dreamlike state—with Sullyoon's gentle undulations atop your cock, punctuated by moans echoing throughout the room—now the urgency returns anew.

Once Belle has mounted you correctly, sinking down until she reaches hilt-deep within herself, then she starts gyrating wildly. Hips rolling furiously fast and grinding her sex hard against yours, driving you deeper than ever before.

Her tits bounce deliciously from the impacts and her lips purse prettily with exertion. From nothing to everything in the blink of an eye. She's leaning over you, pressing her forehead against yours and staring right into your soul as she rides your cock mercilessly. And those eyes—those beautifully smokey eyes—are burning with lustful fervour.

Belle's hot breath mingles sweetly together amidst the haze surrounding you two. Then her lips crash against yours in a searing kiss that steals away whatever remaining oxygen you have left within your lungs. Tongues dance between teeth, entwining passionately against one another until you're forced apart by necessity.

"How is he?" Sullyoon speaks up. She sounds remarkably coherent despite appearing like a spent mess lying sprawled out beside you two.

"Fucking huge," Belle gasps in response without breaking stride. Her pace doesn't slow at all, if anything she speeds up even more in defiance to accommodate your size better. Her voice wavers slightly when she speaks again. "He feels so good," she murmurs softly against your earlobe.

"Give me his face," Sullyoon demands, crawling closer to you, propping her body upright next to your head. Once her hands cup your cheeks and tilt your face up, she swings a leg over your head and positions her snatch directly above your mouth. Then she descends downwards gently, pressing herself flush against your lips.

As soon as contact occurs between tongue and slit, Sullyoon jolts upright suddenly as bolts shoot straight towards her core. Eagerly lapping away at her glistening cunt causes a ripple effect throughout her whole physique, making her hips gyrate involuntarily against your open mouth.

Belle continues slamming herself down hard atop you, rocking your entire foundation relentlessly. She throws her head backwards as the momentum builds steadily higher and higher. Unrestrained groans spill freely from her throat unchecked as pleasure overwhelms every other rational thought inside her brain. Meanwhile, you feast on the nectar that flows forth copiously from your step-sister's pussy, savouring the ambrosia coating thickly around your tongue as you slurp it greedily down.

Time loses meaning while submerged beneath the sea of sensations cascading over you ceaselessly—nothing existing beyond the confines of flesh pounding against flesh nor the taste saturating every inch of your being.

You claw for some sort of respite, finding your fingers digging into Sullyoon's ass as a makeshift warning of the feeling in your body. You're close but they won't stop, in fact, Belle works harder.

Everything escalates tenfold. Everything gets faster; harder; wilder.

It drives you absolutely insane.

Your cock spasms violently inside of Belle's convulsing sex. Simultaneously, she's screaming something incomprehensible—not quite words necessarily but definitely conveying something meaningful nonetheless. The surge of euphoria crashes through you like waves crashing upon the shore during a stormy night—ferociously crashing through every fibre of your being with unrestrained vigour. Cum floods her depths in hot thick spurts and her body tenses rigidly, shaking fiercely whilst gripping tightly onto you for stability. Sullyoon trembles too, twitching sporadically and squealing loudly through clenched teeth before eventually slumping forward once again, collapsing heavily upon your face while riding out her orgasmic peak alongside yours.

Seconds feel like minutes, minutes seem like hours.

Eventually, the intensity fades, replaced instead by gentle numbness which fills the void afterwards. You lay there, breathing raggedly—heart hammering heavily within ribcage and sweat trickling down skin dampened thoroughly, amongst bodily fluids staining sheets soaked in evidence of prior debauchery. Eventually, your sisters roll off of you.

Silence prevails for several long moments afterwards. No sound penetrates beyond shallow breaths. Nobody says anything; no words need be uttered aloud to express emotions present right now anyway.

***

Three days later, you wake up in bed, sandwiched between your sisters. Legs intertwined, warm skin brushing against one another and soft chests pillowing against your sides. Asleep.

This isn't unusual—not anymore. How quickly it has all become routine to sleep squished between them.

It's also not weird or uncomfortable. At least, you try to convince yourself of that. Because otherwise...well...

You decide not to finish the thought. Instead, you opt to focus solely on enjoying the sensation of having both beautiful girls wrapped snugly around you. Revel in their warmth and breathe deeply their scent. Cherish this dirty, taboo arrangement for all it's worth. There will surely come a day when everything falls apart; when reality inevitably comes knocking at the door. But until then, why not indulge? 

[separatetheyolk]

Hidden In Plain Sight | Charles Leclerc X Faceless!Driver!Reader

ʚɞ featuring: Charles Leclerc

ʚɞ you value your privacy. As an F1 driver keeping said privacy can be a little hard. Especially when people don't respect your decision.

ʚɞ warnings: boundaries crossed

ʚɞ word count: idk i cba to count but its p small

ʚɞ note: FL stands for 'first initial, last initial' so for example mine would be 'N' for first name 'G' for last name. Drivers know what you look like, general public does not. Making 'NG28'. The first photo took an embarrassingly long time to make

f1

Liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1.5M others

f1 Breaking: 'Faceless driver' FL28 will drive for redbull for 2025

user1 do we even know his eye colour?

user2 sadly not :(

user3 Can't you guys just respect his boundaries?

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

------------------------

"Why can't they just respect your boundaries?" Charles called from the kitchen sounding rather frustrated with the way you were being treated. "The amount of times we've had to convince broadcasters to give up their footage. It's like you're some animal that was believed to be extinct."

You sighed softly, moving to pick up Leo once the dog had reached the outside patio. Stepping inside, shutting and locking the sliding door. "You dangle a carrot in front of a pig, it'll try to bite" You spoke, following him to the living room. You set yourself down on the sofa, leaning into Charles' side and set Leo down. Watching the dog run up and down the remaining length of the furnature.

"You calling fans and broadcasters pigs?" Charles chuckled, raising an eyebrow and looked down to you. His hand rose from your waist to your hair, combing his fingers through your locks.

"Only those who don't respect my boundaries." You lent into the touch, any tension fizzing from your body slowly. "It won't be forever though. Plan to drop small hints this season.. maybe even reveal my face. As annoying as it is for people to try and work out who I am, it's funny to watch them lose their shit."

"Must be nice though. To just go out alone, dressed as any other person and not get hounded by people wanting autographs and photos.. no?" Charles spoke, picking up the remote and moved to put on a movie. Not really paying attention to what it was he had put on but you recognised it as Narnia. "As much as I appreciate people's support all I want to do is get a loaf of bread."

------------------------

f1

Liked by lewishamilton and 503k others

f1 And that's a win for FL28 in Japan! 🏆

comments

user1 SKIN SKIN I SEE SKIN

user2 AAAAAA I SEE HIS FACE

user3 Possible face drop???

user4 idk but I wouldn't blame him if he kept his face a secret this is a whole new level of obsession

------------------------

"Hey!" Charles shouted, shoving a strangers hand away from grabbing the mask covering half your face. "Will you people leave him alone!" you felt his hand run to the back of your head, directing your face to his shoulder. Your eyes fixed to the ground as he led you through the crowd and into a suspiciously quiet building. Recognising it as a building for authorised personnel only

"Causing a ruckus as usual, hmm?" You heard, looking up to find Carlos approaching the two of you. "How are they treating you? Better than last season I hope?"

"About the same, if not more desperate-"

"I wasn't talking about the fans." He gestured to your shirt, frowning softly. "They've been pretty harsh on Max from what I hear.. Why that man hasn't left the team I'll never know."

"He wants his fifth. That's the team he believes can get him there. Everything's okay.. a little tougher than last year. Trying to train me up to take his spot when he retires so not only is there that usual red bull pressure to keep my seat, I need to preform the best I can." You glanced back to the doors when you felt Charles' hand on your waist, leading you away from prying eyes wordlessly. "How's Williams treating you?"

"Ahh.. cars pretty shit. But it will probably be that way until next seaon. Pushing the thing just to get P10." Carlos looked to you as you waked. "The whole new main guy of red bull.. that isn't the reason you want to reveal your face.. is it?"

------------------------

f1

Liked by youeusername, oscar_piastri and 506k others

f1 AND IT'S POLE FOR FL28 IN BAHRAIN

Comments

user1 I SEE EYES

user2 ENHANCE ENHANCE

user3 God I hate this side of the f1 fandom

Liked by yourusername

------------------------

f1.leaks

Liked by 1.4M others

f1.leaks THIS JUST IN! Red Bull FL28 has been revealed to be Y/N L/N and what's more, seems to be in some sort of a relationship with Ferrari's river Charles Leclerc!

More on this development later!

comments

user1 this is actually disgusting omg

user2 take this post down

user3 he's so hot omg

user4 ofc he is

user5 This is a major violation of privacy

------------------------

"Babe- babe wake up-" Charles shook you awake desperately, hands shaking. "Babe- babe come on, they leaked your face!" that seemed to snap you out of it, jumping awake and immediately sitting up. Greated with a phone being shoved in your hand.

You stared at it for a moment, swallowing thickly before shaking ypur head. "I was planning on revealing my face sometime soon but.. The relationship.." You two hadn't even had a chance to talk about it being known publicly. It wasn't exactly a known fact that Charles liked men, much less dating one. But even if that was revealed, keeping who he was with a secret wasn't exactly a hard task. But for both pieces to be released at once? "I-I didn't even see the phone.. I'm so sorry babe oh my God-"

"Hey hey I couldn't care about the relationship being known. What I care is that your face is and before you're ready for it to be. What do you want to do about it?"

------------------------

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 1.3M others

Yourusername well, I had wanted to show my face on my own terms. And we had wanted to announce our relationship at our own pace. But it seems that some of you can't even give us that luxury.

Anyway, rumours are true, here's some of my favourites from the past three years with my fav.

@/charles_leclerc <3

I need to get back into the groove of writing omg

[tumblingxelian]

I wasn't aware I was notable, so I appreciate the excitement for the response on that front, as to the rest:

Well, you are right in something. I'm sorry, I always take bias as "saying things that aren't truth". But, even in @faunusrights post she denies some of the claims of the RWBY wiki.

You'd need to cite some claims they argued were not true and yet still canon, as it stands this is an accusation without evidence I feel.

He didn't have Ozpin dismissed from his position. At least, the council said "We are going to talk about your position" but that didn't end up happening. And Ironwood just gave a report of the situation to the council. It wasn't his intention to have Ozpin kicked of the council.

He had Ozpin ousted as head of security for the Vytal Festival, a job Ironwood was uniquely unqualified for given his myriad of poor decisions like not even understanding the premise if "Scouts". But also, Ironwood had been reporting tot he council behind Ozpin's back for weeks, even as he claimed to trust Ozpin and be loyal he was explicitly undercutting Ozpin to his superiors to steal his job based on the egotistical conviction he could do it better.

About allying with the SDC. I mean, it's not like Ironwood is doing something evil with that. Ironwood gave robots to the SDC, (in a world where the Grimm and the terrorist are a risk). Let's remember that Ironwood wants to retire the men from the dangers of the battlefield, so having robots would protect SDC workers and guards. Later both worked on the Paladins and the airships. What's wrong with that? He later didn't have problems annoying Jacques with the embargo, close of borders and putting a military operation over the abandoned Dust mine.

He very explicitly is doing something evil by allying wth the SDC, a canonically corrupt organization, that abuses, exploits and even causes the deaths of its workers, most of whom are also a discriminated against minority and underclass.

Being their ally is intensely immoral on Ironwood's part, and he only turned against Jac, because the man refused to be intimidated into obedience like most other people. Jac outright even highlighted that Ironwood was acting as a dictator and Ironwood didn't disagree, merely threatened him with the prospect that if he is a dictator then Jac should want to stay on his good side.

Pulling out his troops out of Vale... Well, he was put in charge of the security during the Vytal Festival. The Vytal festival ended, he needed his troops at home, protecting Atlas. The same goes about pulling his troops out of Mistral.

Vale was their ally and a place still being over run with Grimm, Atlas still had the rest of its army, specialists and Hunters and as far as we known was not in any particular danger.

He bailed on Vale the moment it suited him because, as Mistral further demonstrated, Ironwood is a Fairweather friend who won't stick with people when the going gets hard.

Also seriously, the army he "needed" at home literally did jack and shit beyond floating there. He didn't need them except for his own personal sense of security.

About neglecting Mantle, I agree. But oppression and exploitation... Well, not so much. At least, not during the first episode as you say: He is not responsible for the exploitation of Mantle, it is Jacques. He is not a businessman, he is a general and headmaster. And about oppression? You say for the police state? I mean, it is needed to give protection to the people of Mantle and prevent Salem from infiltrate in the kingdom. And about the close of borders and embargo. Were security measures ensured to prevent Salem from infiltrate the kingdom.

Ironwood has basic control over the Council of Atlas & Mantle, so yes he actually is responsible for policies and circumstances that impoverish and exploit Mantle, especially as he is an ally of the SDC and other wealthy elites. Provided they do what he wants when he wants and what he wanted never involved helping the underprivileged. Jac and his ilk could only operate with the impunity they did because Ironwood enabled them.

The people of Mantle were arrested for defending themselves from Grimm, that has no impact on Salem's agents. The walls was not repaired, that enabled Salem's schemes. Mantle's defences were hot garbage and their resources were constantly stolen for Ironwood's pet projects, which also enabled Salem. I would also add, that Ironwood's closed boarder policy did nothing to stop Watts, Tyrian, Cinder & Neo from slipping passed it.

So it was entirely unnecessary, and only served to make everything worse in Mantle, which was a recurring plot point across Volume 7.

I don't know. I mean, Ironwood was authoritarian but that doesn't make him a dictator. He have two seats in the council, but that was never presented as unconstitutional. And 3 seats of the council are democratically elected. I mean, there is even political dissidence, things that aren't allowed in a dictatorship.

Well, thanks for help understand her point. I didn't get that back then. But well, I don't know. Just because women, queer or trans (Isn't trans included inside queer?) think good of Robyn. That doesn't make her right. My point was that not all the queer were necessarily agreeing that Robyn was great. And hey, Hatedom is such a derogatory term. And I think you are oversimplifying things about the rewrites. I mean, you wouldn't like that I simplify things criticizing RWBY.

Glad I could be of help there.

(Some people prefer trans specifically others queer, its a personal preference thing.)

That part of the post was not about whether Robyn was right (Which she was) but about the fact that its unsurprising if unfair that she gets so maligned by the relative minority of deeply conservative people who are neither numerous nor fans, but have lodged themselves into positions where their voices get to be louder than everyone else's.

We have a problem like this on the RWBY Tv Tropes page too, where the people who edit it, hate queer representation and the show and try to maligned, edit out or remove any reference to such things as best they can.

I could copy paste the part of Clover, Robyn and Qrow. But I think that the whole context is important. The thing is: If it happens peacefully, how does the arrest count as violence? Is a deprivation of liberty, but, why violence? And well, Qrow was willing to go. So, why not? Of course, the orders given to Clover were immoral. But, they still had the chance to talk. About Robyn. Hey, even Qrow suggested go to Ironwood and talk to him. Ironwood is different than the normal dictators. Robyn Hill just discovered that he was being framed for the massacre and that he had nothing to do with the murders on Mantle. She just discovered that he had reasons as to why he declared the embargo and close of borders. I mean, Ironwood have just been convinced of helping Mantle that very night. Not even give him the benefit of the doubt? The thing is, that fighting in the Manta could have mean Robyn dying stupidly.

OK, so I want you to take your argument about how "Does it qualify as violence if one side doesn't resist" and apply to say, a firing squad and ask yourself a second time, whether something counts as violence or not, just because the victim is passive.

Why would she give him the benefit of the doubt when his polices impoverished Mantle, his allies had exploited Mantle, his Ace-Ops tried to black bag her, his authoritarian rule had gotten people killed, and he had just decided then and there to leave her city to die and arrest anyone who disagreed with him?

I mean, everyone in the world can do that, that doesn't make it less arrogant. If she have waited till after the elections, then it would makes sense. But being so sure about it, shows that she is so sure of her victory.

I want you to consider why you think its arrogant for a woman to do this, when its standard operating produce around the world. Also keep in mind, if the election hadn't literally been stolen she'd have been right. So it wasn't arrogant regardless, just an accurate assessment of reality.

I mean, why Ironwood would arrest Robyn? Qrow is part of Ruby's group. But, she is not part of it. When I'm saying that he didn't underestimate her, I'm saying for the fact that he didn't underestimate her threat. I always interpreted as Robyn saying "He underestimate the threat I represent to his plans".

That's your interpretation, that is not how I took it.

Eh, he is not robbing Mantle. He is buying those resources:

Robyn: Clover, I’m so glad you’re here. Maybe you can help me understand why this truck that's supposed to be taking construction materials to fix Mantle’s outer wall, is on its way to the middle of nowhere? Are you lost?

Using government funds to purchase something for one purpose then using it for another secretly is called embezzling, otherwise known as theft.

You creating headcanons to justify it is just another example of exactly what faunusrights is talking about when it comes to anti Robyn, pro Ironwood bias.

Ironwood put Atlesian knights, soldiers, Penny, Ren, Nora (With the usual help of other Huntsmen doing their bounty mission), a fleet of Mantas flying over Mantle. I think that is far better than having to simply repair the wall. And the Grimm aren't busting through the hole all hours of the day. If that was the case the alerts would be sounding every hour. And owning guns isn't even illegal. What is illegal is owning weapons without authorization. I come from a country where owning weapons also requires an authorization despite the fact of we being surrounded by crime. And Huntsmen are also allowed to carry weapons. Think about the Happy Huntresses.

Clover put them there, & Marrow suggested similar missions, while the rest of the cast volunteered for them. Ironwood never assigned anyone to missions to help Mantle until the evacuation, something he had to be pressed into and went back on the moment he had a fright.

The fleet did not act in Mantle's defence when Grimm were breaking through the walls until the massiv estampede in which they also proved completely ineffective, the same is true for the Atlesian Knights and minor guards both of which served as a police force to keep people in line more than as a deterrent against Grimm. We literally see the Atlesian Knights trying to break up people huddling for warmth as the kingdom freezes and Nora outright mocks the idea that Ironwood's meager security detail would be of any use upon their arrival in Mantle.

Think about RWBY, JNR and Qrow being arrested for defending themselves & others?

As I said, the guns are allowed, what is not allowed is having one without authorization. What is stomping over all democratic norms? An election was just being held. Stealing private property of who? Jacques? His mine was abandoned. The public goods, I already talked about Mantle construction materials. There is heating for the citizens. And it seems to be a public service considering how Jacques had access to the Atlas network due to being hired to provide the heating.

As I said, you're wrong.

Ironwood was making unilateral decisions without consulting his democratically elected peers consistently throughout volumes 7.

Mantle's resources and yes, the mine, just because it wasn't used doesn't mean Ironwood can just take it cos he feels like it.

The fact you think its fine for Ironwood to oppress, betray and rob people, but think its immoral and arrogant for Robyn Hill to resist such things is very much the embodiment of the kind of bias faunusirghts was talking about.

Yes, they really thought that the ship was stolen. Ironwood didn't have a reason to lie to them in that moment.

They had zero evidence RWBY & co were on it, or else they would have arrest Maria.

About why they didn't arrest Maria... Who knows. Maybe because she was accompanying Pietro in that moment thought that she had nothing to do with the stolen ship.

You making up a headcanon does not change that they had no evidence and were originally arresting them for having weapons.

I mean, she didn't know what the results were really going to been. She can't see the future and Jacques have just used the whole city hostage. Maybe and he wins because of that power play. Of course, Jacques stole the election. And you keep ignoring that even Weiss and Ren commented on how weird it is to hold a party before even winning.

As said, she was going to win, and this is normal, the fact you think its arrogant for a woman to do this entirely normal thing, even when she's right speaks for itself.

I don't ignore that, I didn't mention it because it doesn't matter, what Robyn did was entirely normal and she was right,. That Ren (Who was down in the dumps) & Weiss (paranoid about her father) thought it was odd made them the exceptions, not the norm.

They only have been biased against Robyn. I mean, faunusrights never mentioned other example of the wiki being biased against women. So yeah, say that the ones behind the wiki are against female characters or female authority figures is just gratuitous. You can't simply judge someone without knowing all the work behind them. How is Ironwood conservative? I mean, maybe capitalist and anyway he messed up Jacques SDC operations. And liking a character and disliking another doesn't mean anything. I met persons who dislike Robyn and like Ironwood and they aren't against female characters or female-authority-figure characters in general.

Past experience with the wiki stanning Adam says otherwise :/ Also Faunusrights was specifically talking about Robyn Hill because that is where its most egregious. In large part because Robyn was new & its easy to contrast her against Ironwood as they were direct foils to one another.

I actually can, I am very good at judging things XD

Ironwood is all about centralizing control of the government, funneling money into the military industrial complex relies on authority, rank and coercion and is allied primarily with hyper capitalists who exploit discriminated against minorities.

There's a reason a lot of his fans are Trump voters.

Just to give a conclusion. I'm sure you doesn't care but I prefer to clarify something before the people start jumping to conclusions. I tried to give everything I could to the fandom. I made a post saying about why the martial law wasn't the right call during Worst case scenario. I have been there criticizing Ironwood inside RWBYcritics. I have dedicated my time to defend Robyn Hill and other matters of the series. So the fact that now comes @faunusrights to believe that I'm against Robyn and I'm a pro Ironwood stan is just... frustrating. I'm the one who decided to go and discuss with the RWDE in their very subreddit going against them. Fuck, I even responded to Dextixer in some posts. There is a reason why I put RWDE and anti RWDE in my responses. I consider myself somewhat in the middle.

Saying "I'm sure you don't care" seems rather backhanded, I took the time to quote and response to your entire essay which is more than you did for @faunusrights with all that cherry picking and I did so again here.

I am more confused than anything by this claim on multiple fronts :/

I mean, that's nice I suppose, but no one asked you to do it and I confess I don't know you nor do I spend time there, so I can neither confirm or deny any of what you are saying,

I don't believe faunusrights said anything beyond a lack of intent to read your response given association with some rather vexing takes. Though my sympathies on having to talk to Dex, that is vexing.

(Shrugs) Ultimately, you found a several years old post highlighting a bias in how Robyn is framed VS how Ironwood is framed by the people holding the microphone so to speak and deciding to argue in favor of the people holding the microphone. I know noting else of you beyond that, so its what I responded to, and I hope this all made sense.

Take care now!

what is going on with all the bias on robyn hill’s wiki page, anyway? - an aside

As someone who uses the RWBY wiki with some degree of frequency - often because I’m looking for art references, or Semblance and weapon names - I’m used to… some amount of bias in the articles for different characters? Like, let’s be real, it’s not a perfect wiki! Community-maintained stuff isn’t easy to all keep on the same track! But, generally, it gives the facts well enough and doesn’t do too bad a job keeping all the balls in the air when it comes to new information from all four corners of this franchise.

Well, until you open the article for Robyn Hill, and realise it’s an absolute disaster. Like, really; the impartial voice just plain doesn’t exist for her, and almost all of her wiki is written in such a way that she reads as being an absolutely insufferable, hostile, hard-to-like character. Even if you aren’t a fan of Robyn personally, you have to admit that if you hadn’t seen the show yourself, you might very well come away from her article presuming she’s a major antagonist of Volumes 7 and 8.

Like, for instance, let’s take a look at the first paragraph of her Personality section:

Robyn has a direct and confident personality, having no trouble being confrontational with Atlas personnel, including the Ace Operatives. Robyn also seems to suffer from overconfidence and arrogance, shown in her encounters with Ruby and celebrating her election victory before it was verified. She is aggressive and hostile in nature, quickly jumping to conflict without thinking through consequences. However, she is also shown to be reasonable when the situation calls for it.

And, for good measure, here’s another paragraph from the same section:

In “With Friends Like These” Robyn displayed a rather impulsive side of her personality, when upon hearing that James Ironwood’s plan to abandon Mantle and arrest those against him, she started a fight between herself, Clover Ebi, and Qrow Branwen onboard a Manta with Tyrian Callows in custody. Despite the fact, there was no order or her arrest. Her brashness led to Tyrian breaking free and crashing the Manta as well as her becoming unconscious.

(Taken from Robyn’s RWBY Wiki page. Bolding is mine.)

Seguir leyendo

[lxdymoon0357]

hi beautiful !

Can i ask yandere calisto(of death only waiting for vilainess) with a lapileon reader of my in law are obssesef with me(she have cursed blood)

(warnings: blackmailing, poisoning, forced marriage, forceful harvest of body parts (your blood), murder,manipulation, verbal abuse, mentions of suicide.)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

Yandere! Callisto Regulus X Lapileon! Reader

◙ Callisto is a very dangeranged and protective man, everyone knows about him. Especially you, one of the darling children from the great noble yet very secretive Lapileon family filled with the genetics of red eyes and quiet and reserved demeanors, though not from Eorka empire exactly, but rather from the midlands in between Eorka empire and the nearest other empire.

◙ Your quiet and reserved demeanor is what caught his attention to you in the first place, your family and you didn't regularly attend, you kept to yourselves and you all were VERY MODEST as compared to the trends of the empire which came and went by, always covering every part of your skin.

◙ Of-course it's not long before he tries to become your acquaintance, getting closer to your brother, Therdeo, and eventually you. Forming alliance, he takes the chance to court you. It's not hard considering it would be rude to deny the crown prince, wouldn't it? I believe it would almost deplete your image if you denied him, though of-course he would say no pressure in marrying him.

◙ I imagine it was an utter mistake he learnt of the family's secret. He forcefully entered on one of those days where you got so sick, you were bleeding and vomiting blood and the very few were trying to force him out, but he entered nonetheless and he demanded as to why you're not having anyone and why you're so nervous and everything.

◙ He figured he stumbled on something which will help him tie you down to him. And he was all too glad about it. Of-course you had to admit your family secret and he used it tie you with him, claiming he will make sure nothing can happen and also suggesting to use your blood to help the empire, which you of-course denied as it was family rules to never use your blood as a method of killing.

◙ Of-course it resulted in anger and him blackmailing to kill your entire family and reveal your secrets so no Lapileon ever in the world would be safe, as everyone would be thrown into the severed lines of being "demonic". And you of-course didn't want it, he knew..

◙ Of-course that's why within 5 months of courting, you got married to him, he says it's true love between you two!~ How cute, a reserved noble and boisterous crown prince together, a sight to behold really!! Of-course they don't have to know what goes on behind the scene

◙ Constant beration of your family, telling you how they were isolating you..Harvests your blood for the sole purpose of bettering his immunity incase you one day try to kill him off, he couldn't afford that. Imagine leaving his darling spouse behind!

◙ He adores you so much, he gets you the most gorgeous red coloured jewels to match your red eyes, the most prettier red dresses, red shoes, red metallic hair accessories..everything to match your gorgeous red eyes that he adores so much.

◙ He doesn't get mad often at you, but of-course days exist when something ticks him off, he blackmails you by threatening to reveal family secret and does reveal it to some servant for a while and then later on kills off the servant when he cools down and realized how hurt you must be!

◙ Of-course some days you somehow manage to piss him off, it might result in blood splatter to kill off a few servant or verbal abuses thrown your way, of-course you're just so idiotic that you don't even know what's good for you! He's doing this for your betterment and you have the audacity to even think of someone other than him? Of annoying him, of being ungrateful to him?! He's your fucking husband, you idiot. You're just such an idiot, it would sometimes been better that you don't exist!

◙ Of-course he never means those words, darling! What are you talking about? He never meant it, t was just in anger and heat of the moment. After berating you, verbally abusing you or even hitting you once or twice in anger, he couldn't control..he does love you at the end of the day, cuddling upto you, checking to make sure you don't have a cut anywhere he would hate to see you upset if you accidentally killed someone!

[quirekey]

I love your writing so much! Can I request how heatwave would react to his little human gf when she gets the chance to babysit Cece for the Greene’s and she’s literally like a mom? Even the Burns would be surprised at how good reader is acting with little Cece. Kade would fs tease heatwave as well, saying something like, “she’s loves kids, heatwave. Take notes on that.”

We all know that heatwave secretly loved robo baby in that one episode, and I feel like he feels the same for cece ngl.

Sorry if this seems too descriptive 😞 tysm tho!💛

AWWW THIS IS SO CUTE!! I’m so sorry for coming late, Christmas and stuff! I’m so glad I can write freely now. I’ll do a small introduction as an apology for my late answer >:]

(ALSO TYSMMM GAH)

[ HEATWAVE ] x [ FEMME!READER ]

[ heatwave x human!femme!motherlike!reader ]

INTRODUCTION

You were first introduced to the Rescue Bots due to Kade’s trust in you. You both were really good friends and you somehow had the tolerance to stand Kade on a daily basis. Kade with his loud mouth slipped and told you about the Rescue Bots, Heatwave specifically. Because of this, you met the Rescue Bots and got to know them on a personal level.

Months pass and seemingly Heatwave has been pushing Kade away, bringing himself to be with you more often. You saw him as a gentle soul and he appreciated that. After a while, the little love confessions happen and you both got together. (let’s say he confessed first, bluntly)

Ever since then, you both were lovers. Unfortunately you did not have any training in the field and only knew some medical procedures, so you stayed behind or went with Chief in-case of emergencies or injured civilians.

Mr. Greene trusted you a lot due to your kind and trusting nature, so overtime, he wanted to adjust you to Cece, his daughter. You adored her so when you got to babysit her, it was definitely a fun time for you. That day was a quiet one, so you and Heatwave decided to take care of Cece during the time you guys have together.

HEADCANONS

- When you brought Cece to the department while Cece slept in your arms, the Rescue Bots were definitely surprised. Boulder was the most happy with her appearance due to a past emergency where he was her little frog-plush (something that you can never get over). Chase and Blades didn’t mind too much, but Heatwave did.

- Heatwave was not fond of Cece. Having a fragile baby near massive sentient robots doesn't seem safe, but you assured Heatwave that you can keep her safe.

- You tried to get Heatwave to get along with Cece, constantly getting him to help you take care of her. You even got him to hold Cece, in your vision of course.

- After a while, you picked up Heatwave’s true feelings about little and young sentients (or technically babies). He seemed to be pretty comfortable and fond of them, he seems to be more relaxed with the knowledge that he’s taking care of such a fragile being. You think that he thinks that Cece is pretty wholesome, annoying but fun.

- Cece really likes Heatwave. It’s common that babies enjoy those ‘hard to get’ types of people, knowing deep down that they still care. You saw this so you got Cece to hang around with Heatwave more often than you, and they got along pretty well. Heatwave was too afraid to hurt her so he didn’t do much, trying to make it look like he doesn’t care when he really does.

- You do all of the chores when it comes to taking care of Cece. Changing her nappy, feeding her and bathing her. Heatwave does the comforting and rocking her to bed type of chore. Though you could easily do that yourself, the sight of Heatwave being a parental figure always warmed your heart.

- Though he’s afraid to admit it, Heatwave does get jealous of Cece. Though it’s an absolutely embarrassing secret, when Cece is around, she takes all of your attention away from him. He doesn’t care but the bitter jealousy does linger over him when you are babysitting Cece.

- You enjoy getting Heatwave to turn into a firetruck and driving you and Cece around. Cece giggling and looking outside the window is an adorable sight and Heatwave is way slower and careful when you guys do this. Doing this does help Cece sleep too. Being rocked in a Fire Truck while you told her a story is luxury in her eyes.

- I do agree, Kade does make fun of Heatwave for this A LOT. When Heatwave is helping Cece fall to sleep by telling her a story he was told in Cybertron, Kade always poke fun. He’s usually teasing and snickering at the sight, saying how much of a softie Heatwave really is. All Heatwave could do is keep rocking Cece and ignore Kade’s antics. (Or Heatwave would just tell him to shut up.)

- You gained a deeper understanding of your lover when Chase told you about the time when the Rescue Bots were assigned to take care of Robo-baby. Chase thought it’d be important to mention that Heatwave does enjoy the company of babies and that you can trust him with one. Not like you did before but it was nice to have some reassurance.

[wulfdreaded]

"yeah,  yeah.  can't  have  you  stinkin'  up  my  forest  when  i'm  doing  spring  cleaning."  zeke  huffed  out  a  little  laugh,  momentarily  tempted  to  entertain  the  idea  -  truly.  not  the  kicking  the  old  farmer  out  of  the  forest,  but  the  spring  cleaning.  get  rid  of  annoyances.  make  the  perfect  home  for  himself,  but  would  it  ever  be?  new  people  would  just  replace  those  he  got  rid  of  &  they  might  be  even  more  annoying.  the  forest  didn't  even  house  that  many  humans,  so  he  probably  shouldn't  complain.  being  called  normal,  though,  did  raise  a  brow.  "normal?  me?  doubt  it."  he  was  holding  back,  at  least  some,  trying  to  appear  as  human  as  possible  while  ...  not  trying  to  be  human.  he  was  done  trying  to  be  one  of  them.  that  phase  didn't  long  &  he  was  glad  for  it  to  be  over.  nowadays  the  only  time  he'd  try  was  for  his  own  advantage.  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing.  but  even  that  hasn't  been  necessary,  because  zeke  was  an  impeccable  hunter.  he  was  also  someone  who  appreciated  a  good  petting  if  the  way  he  was  leaning  into  the  other  didn't  make  it  obvious.  what  could  he  say,  it  was  in  his  dna.  that  pull  though,  surely  counted  as  an  illegal  action  &  should  be  punished  severely  for  he  made  the  wolf  gasp  like  an  idiot.  little  grumble  as  he  followed  inside,  suddenly  feeling  like  he  was  invading  a  home  he  shouldn't  be  in.  lie.  he'd  been  invited  after  all.  he  knew  he  should  be  choosing  the  third  option,  he  did,  but  the  farmer's  offer  was  simply  too  tempting  to  pass  up.  besides,  where  else  in  here  would  he  fit?  he  was  not  going  to  sleep  in  the  barn  or  something.  "sure  you  trust  me  in  your  bed?"  hm.  not  that  zeke  had  any  ulterior  moves,  he  assumed  vilem  didn't  either,  but  it  was  still  an  unexpected  offer  &  here  he  was  ...  taking  off  his  clothes  like  he  didn't  have  a  stranger  in  his  home.  unless  he  didn't  think  zeke  was  a  stranger?  why  was  everything  so  complicated  with  the  old  man?  it  was  bothersome.  zeke  followed  suit  &  took  off  his  shirt,  though  when  he  pulled  his  undershirt  over  his  head  &  his  curls  slowly  settled  again,  vilem  would  find  the  wolf's  ears  had  taken  their  natural  shape.  if  they  were  being  truthful  ..."sleeping  in  a  bed  with  rory's  a  bad  idea,  not  really  a  fan  of  the  floor,  so...  uhhhh,  if  you're  sure  you're  not  a  chicken..."

ironic  enough,  one  of  his  newest  friends  is  a  monster  that  goes  by  the  name  of  jeb.  at  least  that's  their  nickname.  they  told  vilem  stories  of  wonderland  and  left  the  man  in  awe,  partially.  he'd  never  want  to  live  there,  for  several  reasons.  the  red  king  sounds  like  a  tyrant  for  starters.  then  there's  the  potions  and  food  that  changes  your  size.  he  doesn't  want  to  be  any  smaller,  or  larger,  thank  you  very  much.  that  gets  him  to  thinking  of  a  solution  to  all  of  this  mess.  everyone  just  needs  therapy.  if  they're  happy  with  who  they  are,  then  they  won't  really  seek  out  becoming  something  else.  tuh.  “i  better  get  to  stepping  then,  huh?  wouldn't  want  to  be  here  when  i  should  piss  off.”  he's  joking  and  for  once  it  shows  in  how  light  his  tone  is.  he  knows  what  zeke  means.  a  part  of  it  is  even  commendable.  “too  normal  for  those  that  are  also  in  between.”  he's  not  himself,  but  he's  getting  the  sense  of  what  it's  like.  with  the  big  bad  wolf  and  with  rory  around  him.  it's  becoming  much  too  normal  for  him.  maybe  he  just  needs  to  get  bitten  into  a  vampire  and  become  every  were-creatures  natural  enemy.  that'd  be  hilarious.  he  continues  to  brush  the  wolf's  hair  a  little  bit  longer  until  making  his  way  to  the  top  of  his  head.  that's  where  he  gives  the  hair  a  small  tug.  simply  because,  if  he  remembers  correctly,  the  man  might  find  that  to  be  rather  enjoyable.  vilem  takes  his  hand  back  so  that  he  can  open  the  door  back  to  the  farm.  that's  where  he  leaves  it  open  with  his  foot,  turning  around  to  motion  for  zeke  to  just  follow  him.  “rory  takes  up  a  lot  of  his  bed  now.  if  you  don't  mind  sharing,  there's  always  my  bed.  if  you  do  mind  sharing,  i'm  sure  we  can  find  another  space  for  you  to  make  comfortable.”  the  farmer  closes  the  door  after  they're  both  inside  and  takes  his  jacket  off.  then  he  peels  his  shirt  off  to  start  getting  ready  to  slip  into  his  pajamas.  it's  not  like  zeke  hasn't  seen  any  of  this  before.  if  anything,  he's  probably  a  little  more  toned  now.  thanks  to  all  of  the  farm  work  that  he's  had  to  keep  up  since  they  hooked  up. 

[alwerakoo]

'when I'm nothing new'

ROTTMNT Leonardo & everyone written for @nerdy-turtle-enthusiast, as part of @tmnt-secret-santa-2024 PROMPT: Getting older

AO3

A/N: I had so much fun working on this fic! Couldn't wait to share it with everyone. Happy holidays! --

There are better things he could spend his birthday doing, Leo supposes.

Like going home and actually attending the ''surprise'' party his brothers are definitely throwing him, judging by how shifty Donnie has been acting the whole week. He's never been a good lair, and he's even worse at keeping secrets – especially from Leo.

But no one said anything to him in the morning, only exchanging knowing glances, and he quickly took that chance to run.

There are places where he goes to wind down, to make his lungs fill with air, his stomach unclench.

And there are places where he goes to occupy his mind with other annoying things, to the point where he can't even remember what made him so upset in the first place. Places like Draxum's apartment.

“That's a check,” Draxum tells him.

“No, it's not,” Leo says on instinct, even before his brain winds up to find the right move.

He moves his bishop, the sudden surge of uncertainty leaving him as soon as it appeared.

Draxum's face shifts into something strange, like he's bitten into a lemon, which Leo now knows means he's trying to hide his amusement.

Draxum is still the only person he actually knows to have ever beaten him in the game, and every time Leo outsmarts him leaves him with a sudden surge of giddiness. He's also the only person willing to play with him on the regular.

He's always been more than good at chess, and it gave him a great sense of pride and probably more than a bit of a god complex. But Draxum never seemed to care about the genuine emotions that spilled out of him sometimes during the game, usually matching his intensity tenfold.

Which is one of the reasons Leo came to him this morning. There were things he never seemed to mind, like Leo's intense emotions, quiet bitterness and secret cynicism, taking everything at face value and never talking about any of it.

It's why he's not expecting him to ask.

It's Draxum he spends the whole morning with, and it's Draxum who first puts the idea in his head.

“Well,” he says, rather sudden. “You're turning twenty-five.”

Leo blinks a little.

It's not like he really expecting Draxum to fully forget, and there might've been a sting of something painful if he did. But it's nice reassurance.

“I am,” he says.

“So, are you planning on doing anything with your life?”

Leo's hand freezes, previously hovering over his queen.

He puts the finger on the piece, feeling the smooth wood under his callused skin.

“What?” He asks.

He can feel his mind ticking away, like a factory machine, trying to unwind every detail of the new conversation.

Draxum's not meeting his eyes, but he usually isn't, so that doesn't really tell him much.

“You're twenty-five, and you haven't done a thing.”

A part of Leo bristles, the part that used to take everything as a personal attack. It was something that made him rather annoying in his early twenties, and borderline unbearable in his teens.

He clenches his jaw, letting himself take a breath as Draxum knocks down his rook.

This is the part that he grew to appreciate over the years – raw and unfiltered honesty. Even, especially if, it makes him feel a little worse about himself. He needs that reality check, sometimes.

“I've done plenty,” he says, simply. “Like save the entire world. And many people.” He raises his head again to look Draxum in the eye. “Including from you, by the way.”

Draxum doesn't seem phased, which makes Leo think he might've practiced this whole conversation before. He hopes he hasn't, because that means there's a real chance of Mikey being involved, and he's already heard enough of his brother's unwanted advice to last a lifetime.

“You haven't done anything that made you happy,” Draxum says, and then leans backwards, like he's been itching to say it the whole morning.

That puts Leo's mind to a stop, for just a moment.

“I like helping people,” he defends, letting some of his old anger slip though.

Draxum moves his queen. It suddenly feels like they're playing two games at once.

“That's not the same.”

“I was happy the world didn't, you know, end.”

He sometimes still feels the weight of that "almost" in his chest and Draxum looks at him like he knows.

“Well,” he finally snaps, his voice harsh and bitter, “did wanting to kill all of humanity made you happy?”

“... No,” Draxum says, and it sounds so honest and raw it punches all the anger out of Leo.

They don't talk for a long moment.

Leo works his jaw, pushing the words in his head over and over again.

He's not wrong, is the thing. There were moments in his life where he felt happier than ever, and they rarely had anything to do with the heavy weight of a "leader" balanced on his shoulders.

He moves his knight (which he keeps calling a "horsey" out loud, only because it annoys Draxum), and says:

“I'm not unhappy.”

“I believe that.” Draxum nods.

“Did Mikey put you up to this?” Leo finally asks.

Draxum's face does a complicated thing.

“No,” he lies.

“Well,” Leo scoffs a little, looking at the board. The conversation made him distracted and he can already feel the corner he was backed into. “Tell him I'm perfectly satisfied with my life as it is.”

“Clearly you're not,” Draxum says, a little harsh. “If you were, you'd be having a birthday party right now.“ He moves a piece. “Check.”

Leo feels like someone drew a line straight through his chest.

Because there was a moment in his life where birthdays stopped feeling like laughter and presents and cake, and started to look a lot like responsibility and expectations, and he's not sure he can ever go back now.

Twenty-five is a big number.

“What I am supposed to do, then?” He asks, desperate.

It's weird, because there's a whole textbook of history between them, and he doesn't think he'll truly ever see Draxum the way Mikey sees him, but he thinks they might be friends now. And isn't that something.

“Whatever you want to,” Draxum answers, simply. “Right?”

Leo watches the board.

Then, he holds out a hand, putting a finger to his king. Slowly, he tilts it down.

“Right.”

***

Later, he comes home, gets his birthday party, and they don't talk about any of it until two weeks later.

***

When he pokes his head through the door, Mikey's sat in his hammock, legs swung over the edge.

He looks up from a sketchbook sprawled over his lap and smiles at Leo.

Leo never really grew into the habit of knocking before walking in, and Mikey was the only one of his brothers that never seemed to really mind.

“Hey, dude,” he greets and Leo walks in, closing the door behind himself.

“We gotta talk.”

Mikey's face falls, just a little. There's a line forming on his forehead that grows more and more pronounced with each year, and reminds Leo of Raph in an almost painful way.

“Okay,” he answers, very slowly. “Do I need to bring out a PowerPoint presentation for this or...?”

Leo can't really find it in himself to smile honestly, so he doesn't.

He shouldn't be angry with him.

Him and Mikey spend an awfully long time fighting in their late teens – both sick on guilt, misdirected anger and too much love. There were many things that changed after the Kraang, but out of everything, Leo regrets this one the most.

He doesn't want to waste more of his life making his little brother think he hates him.

(Even if he did, just for a short while. Mikey saved his life and Leo hated him for it.)

It took years, swallowing down their own hurt and pride, and many, many late night conversations for Leo to feel like he could breathe freely again.

Still, there was some odd comfort in knowing that Mikey would never walk on eggshells around him – laying down even the harshest truth if he didn't see any other way.

Maybe that's why it ruffled Leo so much.

That even after all that, he still couldn't face Leo himself. Not with this, apparently.

Leo sits down on Mikey's bed – the cleanest part of his entire room, probably only because it was so rarely used.

Leo still isn't sure how Mikey deals with an aching back after spending so many nights in his hammock.

“I had a very weird conversation with Draxum the other day,” he says, cutting right to the point.

He puts his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, leaning against the wall.

Mikey watches him for a moment, very carefully, his eyes bright and wide open.

“Did you?” He finally answers.

“Stop that,” Leo huffs. “I know you talked to him.”

Mikey makes a face.

“He's bad at keeping secrets,” he says, almost like an apology.

He looks back at the sketchbook on his lap, adding a few more lines with the pencil held in his hand. It's not a spiral one, and so he spread the two pages so flat it left a mark on the spine.

“The hell was that about? Since when is he a mail pigeon?”

Mikey doesn't look up, but there's something more genuinely apologetic etched onto his face, some kind of regret. Maybe embarrassment.

“I felt like you wouldn't listen if it came from us,” Mikey says, quietly.

Leo clenches his fingers, holding his thumb until it aches.

“That's not true-”

“Is it?” Mikey cuts him off, harsh.

His face quickly softens; he chews on his cheek.

Leo thinks for a moment.

“So you talked to Donnie and Raph? Is this what we do now? Talk behind each others' backs?”

“That's not-” Mikey holds a hand to his forehead, groaning. “You're doing the thing again.”

Leo stands.

He circles Mikey's room, feeling the anger buzzing under his skin. His bad knee startles in pain and he feels it up to his spine.

“Doing what?”

He doesn't want to argue.

But he hasn't been able to sleep well since his birthday – caught up in his own mind, reflections and what-if's, and he can't help blaming others for it.

Because they're right.

Draxum, Mikey, his whole family, apparently.

There are things, parts of his life he never dared to look too closely at, that they all saw right though. And that scares him to his bones.

“Damn it, Leo.”

Mikey slides to the ground, letting his sketchbook fall to the ground with the outermost carelessness. He steps closer, blocking Leo's way to stand right in front of him.

Over the years, Leo grew taller and taller, towering over most of his family.

Right now, he feels much smaller.

“This thing,” Mikey says, as a way of explanation. “Where you keep acting like we all hate you.”

He reaches out, closing his fingers around Leo's arms, shaking him a little.

It's so unexpected it almost punches a laugh out of him.

He feels like he's running backwards, grabbing onto all the old anger that's left in him instead of letting it go.

His progress is a circle and he's always running backwards.

“I'm worried,” Mikey says, quieter now. “You're-”

“What? Useless? Depressed?”

“Aimless.”

That hits Leo right in the chest.

They don't really go on missions anymore, not like they used to. Donnie called them "retired" and Leo wanted to laugh because it was true. His brothers had lives to throw themselves into, something they carved along the way. Seemingly, Leo missed his cue to do the same.

He was himself, then he threw it all away to be a leader, and now he's too scared to look. Scared he'll find nothing else left.

“You wouldn't get so defensive if you didn't agree,” Mikey says, because he's known him his entire life.

Leo feels like he's been sitting with this for months, like an open wound right in the middle of his chest, and he needed Mikey to force his chin down to finally face the fact that the pain wasn't coming from inside.

“I love you,” his brother says, like the most important part he forgot to add before. “I want you to get your shit together.”

Leo laughs, and Mikey smiles. His face always seems to fall, rather than stretch into a smile, like it wasn't made to do anything else.

“I don't know what to do,” Leo says, honestly.

“You're a smart guy,” Mikey says. “Figure it out, man.”

Leo looks at his face and wonders when he missed the moment where his brother started to look so grown-up.

***

He sits on it for the next week.

Mikey told him to 'figure it out', and he honestly, truly – tries to. But it's only a rather long and tedious call with April, many aimless walks around the Hidden City, and even more conversations with Draxum – that he comes to an idea.

It's something he latches onto from the loose suggestions thrown around him, and holds onto like a drowning man.

There's hesitation there, of course.

He's past the point of admitting his own failure, but the thought of actually picking himself back up scares him. He's grown detached from the idea of throwing himself into the deep water like this, of climbing out of the uncomfortable and cold hole he accidentally dug himself into.

'It'll take years,' a part of him says. 'You'll be thirty before you'll even get anywhere'.

'You'll be thirty anyway,' another, bigger part replies.

Past that, it's not a hard choice. He can't really imagine anything better for himself.

He loves helping people.

There's a part of him that wonders if this too is tied more to his past and how he was raised, rather than his true self. He shuts it down pretty quickly, because it doesn't really matter what finally gets him moving, as long as it does.

He lets himself chew on that thought for another week, like a hard piece of gum he can't quite swallow, before he finally sets his mind to it.

But he knows the difference between making plans in his own mind and actually putting them into practice, especially in his own case.

He needs a final push.

The door to Donnie's room is cold under his knuckles when he knocks, and it only takes his brother a second to answer it:

“If it's not a life-or-death situation, I don't wanna hear it right now.”

Leo rolls his eyes, the sudden urge to be annoying, just because he can, adding confidence to his steps. He pulls at the door, letting it open with a quiet squeak of rust.

“It's always life-or-death with me,” he says.

Donnie stops for a moment to look up from his soldering work, which can already be counted as great success.

If they were younger – fourteen and careless, where death was a thing that will one day reach everyone but them, Donnie would've said: ''And I wish you'd choose that second option more often''.

He doesn't now, because they stopped joking about those kinds of things a long time ago.

“Well, hurry up then,” he scoffs instead. “You're already bringing down the property value.”

Leo shifts in place, suddenly feeling a little smaller.

And from behind Donnie's clear, protective glasses, Leo spots the exact moment his brother squints, brows drawn into a furrow.

“What's wrong?” He asks, because he's never been good at reading people, but he's always been good at reading Leo.

It must be something in him, the things people usually don't pay attention to and that Leo doesn't bother hiding, that Donnie has grown so attune to over the years. A high pitch note that he can only notice when it skips a beat.

“Nothing,” Leo says.

Donnie frowns some more.

“Lair,” he says.

Leo has been called many things in his life. Out of all of them, this might be the truest one.

He sighs, letting his shoulders curl a little in an unusual show of vulnerability.

“I just, uhm.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I need to do some research. Thought you could help?”

Donnie's shoulder's drop, and there's an increasingly panicked look growing on his face, like he's standing on the edge of a drop, leaning in further and further, only now realizing it doesn't seem to end.

Leo doesn't blame him, because the last time he spoke almost those exact words was also the day he first came out. He's been out to his family for ten years now, but that first day has cemented itself as one of the most painfully awkward experiences of his life.

And one of the sweetest, probably.

“It's nothing like that,” he reassures, and Donnie's shoulders loosen with relief.

“Oh, okay.” But quickly there's some new worry in his eyes, something more embarrassed. “I mean, not like- If it was, it's not-”

“Look,” Leo says, sparing him from the awkward, lingering moment.

He walks up to his desk, finally letting go of the leaflet he's been squeezing in his hand and placing it in the middle of the table.

It's covering Donnie's work, which he doesn't really care for, but there's also a slight wave to it now, where the sweat from his palm leaked into the ink. He wipes his hands against his thighs, self-conscious.

Donnie stares at the paper.

He blinks before finally looking up at Leo.

“You're going to med school?”

The words leave his mouth and the air around Leo grows just a little thinner.

He laughs, nervous and without any traces of humor.

“Well, I'm not going yet. It's just- I don't know, I thought about it?”

He rubs his hands together, going back to the old habit of circling the room. He can't tell if his knee hurts, or if he just can't seem to stop clenching his muscles.

Donnie's quiet, carefully tracing the small text with his eyes. He picks the leaflet up to see better.

“Like, obviously I can't do New York Med,” Leo continues, “but there's this college in Hidden City. And it's not like we really have any, uhm, proof of education or anything, but I'm sure Big Mama can pull some strings, right?”

He turns his back on Donnie, too skittish to keep looking at him.

He walks back and forth, eyes trained on his own feet.

“So I just thought- I don't know. It says here you have to pass an exam to even get in, so it's not like that's cheating or anything.”

Donnie has always been the smartest of them, but Leo and his brothers all took to education like ducks to water, as long as it involved anything other than sitting straight in front of a desk for hours.

He doesn't think they'd do well in a normal school, not as kids, but they always seemed to soak knowledge a little faster than April, like tiny-turtle sponges, especially when it could be applied to practical use.

Leo's sure it was part of Draxum's design.

He might not be far behind Yokai his age, but there's still uncertainty curled at the bottom of his chest.

He's uncertain about everything.

“And, like, I probably won't pass it, anyway. But I thought,” he breaths, “maybe-”

“Nardo.”

Leo stops.

He feels his heartbeat in his head, beating fast behind his eyes. He blinks, turning to look at his brother.

Donnie's still holding the leaflet, absentmindedly running his finger along the edge. His face looks calm, almost neutral, but there's a new spark in his eye.

“What's after the exam?”

Leo swallows, clenching his fingers to stop his hands from shaking.

“Then it's five years of school, and then residency.”

“Okay.” Donnie nods. “Do you want me to help you study for that exam?”

It's a long moment when Leo doesn't know what to say.

“You think I can do it?” He asks, finally, his voice quiet.

Donnie looks at him like he's stupid.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Donnie holds out his arm, handing him back the leaflet. His other hand, clenched into a first, taps against his thigh, like there's some new energy in his fingers he can't quite hold in.

He's bleeding happiness, and Leo doesn't know to wrap his mind around all of it.

“You're going to be a doctor,” he says.

“Is this a question?”

Donnie reaches out to squeeze the crook of Leo's elbow; once, twice.

“No. That's a statement.”

***

He's been staring at the envelope for ten minutes now.

It's off-white, closed with an old-timey wax seal, and there's his name on it, written in a neat cursive right at the top.

He runs his thumb over the soft texture.

Him and Donnie spend a few grueling weeks almost living inside the Hidden City's library, with stacks of books piled onto desks in the most inconvenient of ways, and newly developed dust allergies.

Donnie's methods of teaching consisted mostly of borderline bullying, but it was the constant need to prove a point that pushed Leo forward – not that he was going to admit any of it out loud.

He showed up to the exam hall half-drunk on stress, desperately trying to look like someone who hasn't thrown up into a trashcan on his way there.

He found the questions tricky but not hard, which made him double guess everything over and over again, until he was probably the first one to finish, and the last one to leave.

Leaving it all behind was like weight dropping off his heart, and he feels all of it coming back now, settling behind his lunges like an avalanche.

He's bouncing his leg up and down so much his knee starts to ache.

Leo takes a breath, and with one hand – rips the envelope open.

His family's in the living room, huddled around the table for a dinner he's late to, and everyone's heads turn when he walks in.

His heart beats: once, twice, thrice. And in that rhythm, he says:

“I got in.”

***

In his first year, Leo learns a lot of things, only most of which have anything to do with medicine.

Most of his classmates are younger than him, bright with that special kind of annoying you can only be at nineteen, and Leo quickly learns to keep his distance.

His lectures feel long and exhausting, leaving his body aching after hours of sitting, and he's forced to leave the more practical classes to stretch out his bad knee – numb from standing in one place for far too long.

He thinks the faculty might know his family, or at least the reason why he was even able to apply in the first place, because there's a certain look some of his professors give him, that makes something in his stomach turn uneasy.

It's his first steps, and he's already climbing uphill.

He's so caught up in it – in desperately trying to avoid the label of a major weirdo, the constant thought of finals looming of his head, planning out his week to squeeze in as much free time as he can, that it takes him a while to realize he's planning out his week.

He's leaving the house everyday now; there's always a class to attend to, a book to pick up from the library, or something he needs to scream about on some secluded beach in Hawaii until his throat goes hoarse.

He's both more and less tired now. There's some sleep he always seems to be losing, but it doesn't settle in his bones like it used to. It doesn't cling to him like molasses, making him want to curl up on his bed until he can't get up anymore.

(He wonders if it was something other than tiredness keeping him down this whole time.)

His family is looking at him differently now.

Maybe they've been for a while. He just had too much time to dwell on himself to notice it before.

There's something in their smiles now, something hesitant but hopeful, like he's an injured bird they nursed back to health – taking flight again.

He's clumsy and slow, but he's up in the air and there's no going back.

He's moving now.

And that's a start.

***

The first exams hit him hard.

“Come on,” April says, her fingers tapping on the book's cover. “You know this.”

Leo's laying flat on the couch, his fingers locked together on his stomach, and he feels a little like he's at a therapists office.

That is, if therapists were weirdly interested in his bones, rather than feelings. Which might be true for some. Leo has never been to one.

April's sitting on the floor, her back rested against the couch, a heavy textbook spread open on her lap.

“I don't,” Leo huffs.

April seems monumentally more interested in adjusting her leggings than anything he has to say, so he waits till she looks up at him again to roll his eyes.

“You're just panicking,” she says, very matter-of-fact. “Stop winding yourself up.”

It's the kind of tone that used to keep them all in line when they were kids. It still does, to a certain point.

So Leo just wines, picking up a pillow he previously threw aside just to have something to scream into.

When he's finished, April raises an eyebrow at him.

“You're so dramatic.”

“I'm tired.”

Something genuine must've slipped into his tone, because at that, something in her face softens.

She reaches out to squeeze his good knee, before handing him some of his notes back.

“Read over it again.”

Leo studies his own handwriting.

There are so many things, so many things to remember, that he doesn't know what to put his hands into.

“This is so stupid,” he says after a minute.

April's already busy, filing down her nails with careful consideration.

“Welcome to college,” she says, holding out her hand in front of her face. “What shape should I do?”

“Almond,” he responds, automatically. Then: “How did you do this?”

April got her degree a few years back, coming out the other side with bangs under eyes, coffee jitters, and radiating happiness.

“Through sweat and tears,” she says, simply.

“What if I fail this?” He asks.

“What if?”

She doesn't turn to look at him, but raises a brow again, like she knows he's looking at her.

“I'll have to retake it,” Leo says, a little hesitant.

“Ok, you'll do that then.”

There's a kind of certainly in her voice, something stubborn and so sure of itself, Leo almost lets it quiet down the worries that have been rotting him from the inside out.

“And what if I fail again? I'll have to redo the year.”

He sounds even less sure than he'd like to, his voice quiet and mellow.

“You have all the time in the world.”

“What if I fail so much they kick me out?” He finally lets out.

It's a worry that sits heavily in his bones, the fear that he'll slip, and then all of this would've been for nothing.

“Then you'll find something else to do in your sad, little life.” She tilts her head against the couch, sending him an upside-down grin. “You're not winning this game.”

Leo lets out a shaky breath.

His chest squeezes, matching how she touched his knee just moments ago.

He might slip.

He might fail, and he might fall and never want to pick himself back up again.

It won't matter, because as sure as he breaths – there will always be someone there to catch him.

“Okay,” he says instead. “Ask me those questions again.”

April's smile widens.

Leo has a lot of things to learn. But he already knows who he can count on.

***

He feels the years pass faster now.

It might just be that he's getting older, but he feels like it's barely a blink before he's already in his third year.

It gets both harder and easier.

He's been an outsider his whole life, always either too young to understand why the world he lives in would never accept him, and just old enough to feel like he could never be a part of anything else.

But he knows the way people see him. He's cheerful and optimistic when he needs to be, charismatic to his very bones, and it doesn't take all that long for his colleagues to warm up to him.

They talk to him like they believe he should be there, like they see potential in him, and that makes him want to try harder and harder – over and over again.

And before he blinks, it's his birthday again, and there are twenty-eight candles, all awkwardly squeezed onto a cake.

Mikey baked it, and the blue frosting flowers he decorated it with look a little wonky, maybe a little worse than he would've done some years back, but so much better than anything he could've done right after Kraang. It makes Leo smile with all his teeth.

He's so occupied with all of it, with his family's arms around him, the promise of sweet taste on his tongue, loud music drumming away from the speakers – he almost forgets to make a wish.

He hesitates, for just a moment, before blowing out the candles.

More, he thinks. More of this.

A few hours later, he's sitting on a chair; feet aching from dancing and mind numb from beating Draxum in chess three times in a row. He's already on his fourth piece of cake, grateful Mikey never learned how to bake in moderation, when he feels a familiar shadow pass over.

He tilts his head back, meeting Raph's eye.

“Hey, man.”

Raph's finishing his own plate, tossing the leftovers on his plate with a fork.

“Happy birthday,” he says, not for the first time today. “How was school?”

Leo's classes were long and exhausting, made even more grueling with the promise of a warm welcome waiting for him at home.

“Ugh,” he says. “I don't wanna talk about it, it's my birthday party.”

Raph gives him an interesting smile, tilting his head a little.

“Well, okay. Raph just wanted to say...” He hesitates for a moment. “I think it's really cool you're doing it. You're gonna help a lot of people, you know?”

Leo feels his face twitch a little.

“Yeah. I mean, that was always the goal, wasn't it?” He says, and it comes out a little more honest than he intended.

Raph's face twist, like Leo just stepped on his foot but he's too polite to say anything about it.

He's still awkwardly hovering over him, which means he has something more to say. Leo doesn't rush him.

“I wanted to say...” He scrapes his fork over his plate. “I think I was too hard on you when we were younger.”

Leo blinks.

He sits straighter on the chair, turning around to look his brother properly in the eye.

Before the Kraang, him and Raph were rubber bands, high strung and waiting for the other one to finally snap. It was wanting to show each other up, and it was the rush of panic when they realized their wish might come true.

“Thanks. But maybe I needed some of that,” he says.

Leo used to think himself larger than life, like he knew some undeniable, secret truth that all of his family was too blind to see. He wishes he would've felt the cold water they were trying to throw on him before it pulled him under – right into the deep end.

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says like he doesn't really mean it. “But I just- I was looking at some pictures and I saw some from right after Kraang and... I don't know.”

They took a lot of them during that time, like a desperate rush to never let anything slip through their fingers ever again. Leo thinks his broken bones and bruises that seem full on display on all of them, no matter how hard he was trying to hide them.

He remembers Mikey taking one of them, making him look straight into the camera despite his blackeye. Now, he thinks there was something to that.

Something like: 'despite everything, you're still here'.

Raph shuffles on his feet, his gaze turned down.

“I don't know. You were smaller than I remembered.”

Something in Leo's throat hitches.

He searches his mind for something to say.

“You were smaller than you remember, too.”

Raph's smile turns warm.

Leo knows there are things hidden under those sentences, things they need to talk about sooner than later. But for now, Raph only says:

“I'm really happy you're doing this. I mean, it's awesome,” he laughs a little. “You're awesome.”

Leo looks up at him, and just this once, lets himself grin with all he has.

He's warm, drunk on good food and good company, and when Raph goes to sit down next to him, he reaches out. He puts his arms around his brother's neck, letting his head rest against Raph's shoulder.

He feels when Raph takes a deep breath, then sighs.

The song playing in the background dwindles down, turning into something that makes April and Donnie pick up another fight.

“Hey, you know.” Raph picks up his fork again, playfully tapping it against Leo's snout. “I'm proud of you.”

Leo takes a breath, and when he breaths out, it comes out as a laugh.

“Thanks,” he says, honest and raw. “I'm proud of myself, too.”

*** When he's in his fourth year, his professor asks him what he wants to specialize in, and it's almost like making that first choice all over again.

Except this time, he doesn't hesitate for a moment.

There's confidence in him that he hasn't seen in a long time, and the world feels wide and open, everything on his way pushing him further and further along.

'I'm not unhappy', he told Draxum a long time ago.

'Are you happy now?' he asks himself every day, looking into the mirror.

Every day, the answer he gives feels a little more like the truth.

***

While he waits for the tea to boil, Leo taps his fingers on the counter.

He's been fighting hard to kick back his caffeine addiction, and it might be a battle he's losing, but he's going down with dignity. And a lot of tea.

He's thumbing through his journal, because he's the kind of person who keeps a journal now, absentmindedly memorizing the dates of his finals. It's a lot of work, commitment, and work again, but he's used to feeling busy these days.

He looks up at the sound of familiar footsteps, smiling on instinct. He's smiling a lot less than he used to, but for once – all of them are honest.

“Hey, Pops.”

His dad grumbles, rubbing his hands over his eyes, clearly not awake enough for an actual conversation yet. Leo decides to not hold that against him.

“You want some tea?” He asks instead, not waiting for an answer before reaching up for a mug.

He feels this urge more and more often now. To pass him the remote, to move his chair for him, to bring down the heavy pans he can't quite reach anymore.

He looks a little older every day, and every time Leo spots a new patch of gray fur he wants to bury himself in his arms and never let go.

“What are you doing?” Dad asks, walking up to the counter to watch Leo wash his mug under the sink.

“Tea,” Leo answers. Dad looks at him like it's too early this sort of attitude, which is probably true. He adds: “I gotta bounce by the uni later. I have to give them some papers.”

“What papers?”

Dad takes the mug out of Leo's hands, filling it with tea and hot water himself. He's been doing that more and more often, too, like he has something to prove to them now.

Leo supposes he does.

“Just for next year. We're branching out, so it's a mess all around.”

He often felt like the administration system of his university was a pure mystery to everyone involved.

Dad looks up at him, eyebrows raised a little.

“What are you 'branching out' into?”

Leo hums.

“Pediatrics.” He reaches out, pouring water into his own cup. “They have a good program here. One of my professors said-”

He stops, something on the back of his neck crawling with alarm.

He looks down. Dad's not meeting his eye anymore.

“Pops?” He says, very carefully.

He puts away his mug and his hands hover awkwardly, unsure where to lay.

His dad's hand presses against his mouth, his eyes fixed to the floor, and Leo's body tenses, like he's once again a little kid who just broke a glass – waiting for the shoe to drop.

“I'm-” Dad finally looks up at him again.

His eyes look glossy, and something in Leo staggers, like a seized engine.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Dad shakes his head, stops, then nods, like he's correcting himself.

“Yes, yes, I just-” His shaky breath turns into a laugh.

“Dad.” Leo shifts on his feet, his fingers tapping against his thighs in a very Donnie-like gesture. “Dad, are you about to cry?”

His father laughs, waving his hand almost dismissively, but there are already tears in the corners of his eyes.

“I guess-” He sighs a little. “It just hit me now. You're- You're really doing this.”

Leo blinks.

He frowns, looks around the room like he expects to find any answers there.

“Doing what?”

“Come here.”

Leo's still frowning, but there aren't a lot of things he wouldn't do for his father. He leans down, letting Dad cradle his face in his palms.

Leo's grown so much taller than him, and everyday it hurts, just a little.

“You know, it's funny,” Dad says, very quietly. “I don't remember you growing up.”

Leo swallows.

The ties holding them together are strong, but coated in years and years of history, bitterness, and things they never said out loud.

It's melancholia, it's bitter-sweet, and it's an apology.

Leo raises his hands, covering both of his.

“My boy,” Dad says. “My baby blue.”

I love you too, Leo thinks.

***

The only good thing about his final exam, is that it is the last one he'll ever have to bare.

The whole ordeal feels more a job interview than an oral exam; unimportant inquiries about his future plans and small talk mixed with actual, medical questions. Leo gets the sense they might've been intentionally trying to throw him off, which seems a bit mean, but maybe necessary.

Waiting in the hallway for the examinators to call him back, Leo sinks into his seat, feeling the full weight of all his bones and muscles.

His family's waiting outside, and when he closes his eyes he can almost hear the hum of their nimpo, warm from the inside of his chest.

He thinks he might be nervous. But more so – he's relived.

He thinks that, for the first time, he's not afraid to fall.

This is his best.

Hope is a fragile thing and Leo's holding onto it with everything he has.

They call him back in and he's hovering in the doorway just for a moment too long, until one of the professors looks up at him.

There's a smile edging at the corners of their beak. They raise a hand to beckon Leo closer.

“Come on in, doctor.”

***

Leo can't imagine spending his birthday in any other way.

The night air feels cool and calm on his skin; his head and face warm from dancing and drinking. He's leaning back against the railing; the rooftop of April's new apartment building already familiar enough for Leo to not hesitate before he tilts his head up, balancing on the edge.

“Raphael wanted to eat the last piece of your cake.”

Leo straightens, opening his eyes to look Draxum in the face.

“Tell him to piss off, it's mine.”

“He already ate it.”

Leo's face scrunches up and he huffs.

He doesn't say anything else, but he shifts a little, because Draxum will only stay if he doesn't acknowledge his presence. He's like a cat in that regard.

The man slides next to him, resting his palms on the railing.

“How's work?” He asks, because Leo is now the type of person who's asked about his job.

With real curiosity at that, because while Leo's usual clients are rarely anything other than heartwarming, their parents have been the source of more than a few equally absurd and frustrating stories.

Even with that, he rarely complains about work.

He thinks he's actually good at it, which might be the funniest possible outcome for someone who's only previous experience with children was being one.

He's been told kids find him funny, parents 'charming', and there's a real kind of satisfaction that comes with it.

But working so closely with kids, with their bright smiles, chubby fingers, cute faces and not a single ounce of bitterness in their entire being – made him feel a whole sort of new things. Things he never thought he'd catch himself thinking.

Things that look alarmingly close to white picket fences, piles of small shoes next to the front door and the future.

Why not, he thinks to himself. Why not?

“It was fine. One kid fit an entire Lego piece up his nose.”

“Riveting.”

“You want to play chess with me later,” Leo says.

“I'll be tired.”

“That wasn't a question.”

Draxum huffs, and Leo recognizes it for the laugh it is.

“Leo!” Mikey's standing on his chair, waving at them from the other side of the roof. “Group picture time, get your ass over here!”

And so he does, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

As he tilts his head to squeeze into the frame, he takes a moment to look at his own reflection.

'Are you happy now?', he asks himself.

He hears the answer in his brother's laughter, in the soft music playing in the speakers, in the hum of an airplane passing above them.

He's only a few years past thirty, and there's already a deep ache and sadness etched into his bones – things that wouldn't seem unfit in someone much older.

The limp in his left leg won't ever go away.

But there's something in this, in getting older and older.

He was a dreamer when he was a teenager, and he dreamed of glory, blood rushing in his ears and things greater than his own life.

He's a dreamer now, and he yearns for more of this. More slow mornings, more days where he can't feel the coming cold in his bad knee, more moments where his brothers laugh like they haven't ever forgotten how to.

He's been living with a gun aimed at his head for so long he didn't even feel the cold metal on his skin until it stopped.

Leo tilts his head up, looking into the sky.

And from where he sits – the lights of the airplane almost look like stars.

[asher-agere]

Azhy!! >-< cwn chu do lil chuchu adn cg dazai chriztmas hcz?!

Hi Ren! Of course! Also I just realized my only Christmas requests are from Ren- Weird how that works out. But!! I started this on the Eve of Christmas Eve! Meaning it’s time for Christmas requests to get priority! (Do you guys like my made up rules that make no sense?)

Little Chuuya + Caregiver Dazai CHRISTMAS EDITION

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

⛦ Gift giving! These two go all out with gifts! Chuuya will buy Dazai a gift and wrap it while he’s big. He gets personal gifts! Things Dazai will appreciate and cherish for years to come. But when he’s regressed he also gets Dazai a gift! He’ll draw him pictures and make Christmas cards. He’ll also get crafty! But crafty things like hot glue aren’t safe for a baby… This can lead to frustration and tantrums. But he can still make it work! His caregiver deserves the bestest gift ever!

₊ ⊹ Dazai gets so many gifts! He steals Chuuya’s money of course. He’ll track down fancy wine for Chuuya, buys elf hats of course, and tons of stuff for his baby! Any kind of pacifier, bib, clothing, etc. anything that says tiny on it? Yup already bought. All sorts of things saying “Santa’s little helper” Dazai loves making fun of his little Chibi! Regressed Chuuya loves all this stuff, oblivious to the teasing, but as soon as he’d in his big headspace Dazai will be like “Oh hey look! It still applies! Chuuya is soo small” This usually ends in Dazai being tackled to the ground

⛦ Decorating! Chuuya has so many fancy decorations. He’s got money! He’s gonna spend it however he wants to thank you very much! But a little baby can’t decorate… So Dazai helps! Dazai can be really silly though. For example decorating the tree? Lights and garlands all draped all over Chuuya. Chuuya tries to take it off as fast as Dazai puts stuff on him. Dazai will also hang ornaments off his hat, play fight using giant decorations like candy canes and stuff, chaos! Chuuya giggles and plays along of course but he also gets annoyed! Not really… But he acts annoyed!

₊ ⊹ So many Christmas movies! Chuuya just wants to watch his movies in quiet comfort. He can snuggle up in Dazai’s arms with some hot cocoa in a sippy cup! He’s a big kid! (3-6) he doesn’t need a bottle like some baby! However Dazai doesn’t watch movies quietly, he talks a lot. Like a lot a lot! And Chuuya loves having reasons to act annoyed with his caregiver! He’ll tell Dazai to shut up, and even just cover Dazai’s mouth with his hand, he’s also absolutely just- Put pacifiers into Dazai’s mouth. Though he only does that if he’s regressed on the younger side, Dazai has cooties! Ewwwww!

⛦ I think Chuuya likes to play in the snow, but only if he’d in an older headspace (4-6). If he’s a baby he just wants to stay inside and cuddle! But during the times he does go outside to play his favorite is snowball fights! Why? Because of his ability of course! Sure the gravity in canceled as soon as they touch Dazai, but that means they’ve already hit their target! He throws them so fast that Dazai can’t even catch up! I also see Chuuya as a generally warm guy, so he’s definitely tried going out in the snow without proper snow gear, meanwhile Dazai who gets cold quickly is just dragging him inside over and over to wrap him up. Chuuya complains about limited mobility of course

₊ ⊹ I don’t think they have matching pajamas, however I think they definitely found a brand that does a set in the same pattern but just like, slightly different? Dazai has a set covered in fish and Chuuya has a set covered in puppies. It’s just the cutest ever! If they were completely matching then it wouldn’t feel as true to them, they fight over everything trust me. Also if at any point the pajamas get ripped Dazai uses bandages as a patch! He’s surprisingly good at sewing, and it gives them a bit more of a matching look!

⛦ Chuuya will try staying up to see Santa, but Dazai won’t let him! Which is super rude considering how late Dazai stays up sometimes… So Chuuya goes to bed, but then he sneaks out! Dazai seems to be fast asleep in bed, so he sneaks into the living room to eat snacks and wait up! But he doesn’t see Santa… He ends up falling asleep on the couch. And when he wakes up..! There’s no presents? He goes crying to Dazai who tells him to double check everything, Chuuya finds it! In his stockings! It’s… Coal?

₊ ⊹ Dazai will just click his tongue and ask Chuuya if he did anything bad, Chuuya, the honest little guy! Admits to staying up late! He feels super bad (ó﹏ò｡) Dazai says that Santa values honesty! Maybe Santa will come back for him… So Chuuya runs off to get dressed since Dazai doesn’t need to help him with that. Then!!!! When he comes downstairs!!!! So many presents!!!! Chuuya stays oblivious but Dazai had the presents ready the night before, but he couldn’t reward Chuuya for staying up after bedtime! So he just played a little trick, then once Chuuya was honest, he got his presents still! And everyone was happy

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Started the day before Christmas Eve finished the day after Christmas… I’ve been busy (｡>﹏<) But having fun! My caregiver came over twice and I had a family day! Good times!

[thestoriesthatweweave]

"It's three seasons old, at least," said Phillip, in a pained voice. "What sort of provincial backwater did you buy it in?" "The Little Dover Dress Shop." Visander bit out each word, fuming that he knew the answer. "It still has an empire waist," said Phillip, a kind of agony on his face. "You know, here we have fashion, we don't just go about wearing robes for ten thousand years." "I care nothing for your human fashions, worm," spat Visander.

Dark Heir by CS Pacat is a comedy. Or, in other words: if book 3 is not a married-life sit-com between Phillip and Visander I riot.

(In other, other words: there are so many fantastic romantic dynamics in this book, but the one couple I have imprinted on like a baby duckling is the queer murder-machine with tunnel vision stuck in the body of a Victorian ingénue and his husband Who Really Does Not Want To Be Here and can endure his wife being "a dead man from a defunct world" but draws the line at him not dressing for dinner.)

[distracted-and-diffused]

My version would definitely feature some unusual holiday decorations, and each of the main four reminiscing about traditions and people they miss (or don't miss!). And since it's all in my head, I don't have to worry about the budget or the double-length runtime!

❄️ Crystal used to love holiday parties in the wintertime, and she'd host them while her parents were away and busy. But now things are awkward with a lot of her old friends, and her parents haven't changed at all. She's disappointed and relieved when her parents go off on a trip without even thinking about her. (They do call her when they get there — they just didn't tell her they were going.) At least she doesn't have to think too much about all of that, since things are busy at the agency.

❄️ Niko has an idea for the gang to decorate the office so they can have their own agency party at Christmas. She's particularly enthusiastic about it, but it turns out that it's partly because she wants to keep herself busy — she's really missing her dad around this time of year, and it's been almost a year since he died.

❄️ It really is a busy time of year for the agency, though, and so they're all putting up decorations while talking through potential cases. Ghosts keep popping in throughout the day, some with potential cases (most of which are relatively easy to solve), others just to send holiday wishes and deliver gifts.

❄️ The Ghost Postman makes several trips. There is more than one delivery from Port Townsend, and Jenny — who has traveled back to Washington to see her extended family — sends a letter with an update about what everyone is up to, so we get to see little peeks into what Mick and the Cat King are doing now.

❄️ The Night Nurse is increasingly annoyed with Edwin, because he keeps disappearing for some reason, even though he pops back into the office with incredible timing when they receive each new visitor.

❄️ Charles is mostly happy to be busy; he has some nice holiday memories from when he was very little, but most of them are about tastes and smells and holiday cooking, which he can't appreciate in the same way now. When he was older he stayed at school for the holidays and it was lonely, so he likes being busy and having a lot of people about.

❄️ Charles looks in on his parents a couple of times this episode, and shows Edwin for the first time. He's nervous about it, since Edwin doesn't have that kind of opportunity, but Edwin is glad that Charles has the chance to look in on his family, even though he's aware that Charles has complicated feelings about them.

❄️ It turns out that Edwin has living relatives, but has never met any of them — distant cousins, nephews and nieces once or twice removed — and thinking about them is just another reminder that the world moved on when he… didn't. So he knows they're out there, but he doesn't check in. Not much, anyways.

❄️ Edwin has been very happy about the Christmas party and associated decorating project, although he hasn't joined in too much with the decorating this year. Charles asks about it, because Edwin always decorates for Christmas — he's always assumed that Edwin's family always went all-out every year without fail, and that Edwin was keeping up that tradition. But that's not the case at all — Edwin's family kept a very quiet Christmas. But Edwin has always loved reading Christmas stories that featured trees and garlands and candles and a warm fire, and so when he got the chance, he went all-out, and he's enjoyed it ever since.

❄️ By the end, they finally have their party, but it gets delayed a bit by the case. (I have no idea what the main case is; only that there is one. Is there a frost demon? Do they have to help a lost child? Maybe… but yeah, I really have no idea.)

❄️ Crystal finds that she's glad that she's spending Christmas at the agency; this is exactly where she wants to be.

❄️ Niko is still missing her dad, but she knows it's okay to be missing him, and it's okay to be happy to be with her friends.

❄️ Charles is thinking about how he keeps learning new things about Edwin, more and more now, even when they've been friends for nearly thirty-five years.

❄️ We find out that Edwin has been disappearing because he has been working on his gifts until the very last minute; he's made scarves for everyone.

🧣Crystal's is a fine knit in a soft purple and is subtly sparkly. It suits her down to the ground and she adores it.

🧣Niko's is green and has a dandelion pin on it (for courage). She gives Edwin a big hug — he remembered.

🧣Charles's is red (of course) and has a tiny heart stitched in one end. (For courage, and for protection, of course.)

🧣There's even a scarf for the Night Nurse, in a lovely coppery orange, which she receives while wiping a suspiciously-timed bit of dust out of her eyes.

Another day, another Dead Boy Detectives question! ✨

In the hopes of getting the fandom tag trending and getting more eyes on Dead Boy Detectives, please use the tag "dead boy detectives" when you reblog to reply.

Today's question:

If you could write a holiday episode for season 2, what would be in it?

[weaverofink]

Guys I'm so tired.

[demons-i-get]

WAIT BIG BRAINED THOUGHT:

Sam does smth stupid hoping Dean won't find out.

Someone rats Sam out to Dean.

Sam gets in trouble and a lecture from Dean (bc Dean is a parent and he is Sam's parent I will not accept criticism on this matter).

Later, Sam makes a group chat consisting of everyone who could have told on him to Dean and just sends this video:

[cryolyst]

~

[viperwhispered]

Ngl I've always headcanoned my yuu to befriend kalim and be his cheerleader, moral support, and a coach (if needed) to accelerate kalim's growth in life-skill learning because I want his retainer all to myself lmao. Call it investment or whatever

Hasdfh let’s hope your Yuu is careful enough not to give Kalim a disproportionate amount of attention or said retainer might get very much the wrong idea.

What a way to be thinking ahead to get what you want, truly diligence worthy of Scarabia.

[boyswillbedogz]

I was really excited that our mom was getting into arcane cause im feeling like its going to end up being a hyperfix, so i wont have to feel so alone about it. but Martyr kinda gave me a reality check. she'll just tell us to shut up; she wont care as much as us, never does. nobody wants to listen to us talk. we should've just watched it alone.

usually i'd tell him to fuck off, but he's not wrong. happens the same way every time. she's never cared for listening to anything i have to say, much less about my interests. even when she shares them.

-Lennon

[aq2003]

series 3 is so frustrating because there is like a shining core of pure diamond underneath the problems . like conceptually it rocks so incredibly hard. but the problems