#anyways the first scene is done!! (I started this account over a year ago)

[dioles-writes]

new year, new school

Masterlist || Credits go to @jiphenn || Characters:

Felix (he/him), Reagan (she/her), Bliss (she/her), Akali (he/him)

Felix was awoken to the ear-rupturing sound of his alarm blaring and the bright sun glaring into his eyes. 

He groaned, burying his face deeper into his pillow and trying to drown out the noise. Ugh, he thought, shrinking down even further under the welcoming warmth of his blanket, the softness of his mattress and the fortress of pillows snuggling his body making the action of merely opening his eyes impossible. Not today. 

It was at that moment that his phone started to blow up, piercing notifications going off one after the other after the other. Felix sighed loudly, scrambling to shut off his alarm and pick up his phone. He rolled over onto his back, met by a bunch of texts from his group chat: 

Inside Felix’s Bowl Cut 🥣 • 2 active 

Felix wake up 

Are you awake Felix? We’re coming to pick you up!

Wake up

Felix sent a quick text back, carelessly tossing his phone across his pillows and stumbling out of the cozy comfort of his bed. 

He padded across his room and headed into his closet, eyes scanning over his wide array of clothes. Today was September 1st, and to his dismay, meant it was also his first day at Diantha Rose High School. A brand new school for the start of eleventh grade — a brand new start. No one that suspected him, no one that hated him, no one to mock or judge him. No one that knew about what he really was. A new year…. to make things right. He’d been in more schools than he could count over the past eleven years, the names and faces that were nothing more than a blur, fading from his memory the minute he had to pack up his things and disappear to another town. 

Only this time, Felix was determined. He wasnt going to mess anything up. He wasn’t going to cause more problems. He going to stay. They wouldn’t have to move, there would be no accidental blow-ups on his part, no fights or almost getting caught, and no one was going to find out his secret. 

This year, things would be different. 

But to make that happen first he needed to make a good impression. What other way to do that than with a stunning fashion statement? He peered into his closet, flipping through the many different articles of clothing. Neon colours, stripes and patterns, gems and sparkles, and complex knit designs all greeted him, bright and blinding like always, but for once, he wasn’t satisfied. No, he needed something better. Something eye-catching, but not too outrageous. Something that would turn heads, make him stand out. Something that really screamed Felix Rodriguez. 

“A-ha!” He grinned, eyes landing on a vibrant shirt and pants combo peeking out of the evermost corner, stuffed in there haphazardly — almost forgotten. He shoved the mountain of clothes to the side, pulling out the two very special articles of clothing that had caught his eye: a low cut, tight-fitting turtleneck, which was a blinding neon green in colour; paired with tight, shiny mauve bell bottoms that could not have matched better. This was perfect. 

He shed off his oversized basketball shorts and jersey, tugging on the clothes and adding the final finishing touches to his outfit. With neon green high socks patterned by magenta kisses, a black belt with an intricate rose-shaped buckle, and several silver necklaces, the look was complete. Felix stood in front of his mirror, admiring himself. Besides the bed-head and his empty face — he’d get to that next — he had to admit, he looked incredible (as per usual). He’d really outdone himself this time. 

With this outfit, he was sure to make a lasting impression. 

“Are you awake in there Felix?” A knock came to his door, pulling him from his thoughts. Reagan’s voice, soft and laced with worry, filtered in from the hall. “You can’t be late on your first day.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up!” He called back, plopping down in front of his vanity and starting on fixing his hair and make-up, arguably the most important parts of the look itself. If he wanted to make a good first impression, then he had to get these unruly curls into check. His hair looked like an absolute nightmare right now. 

“Okay, good.” Reagan let out a sigh of relief. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

“Akali and Bliss are picking me up. I’ll just grab something on my way out.” 

Fifteen minutes later, finally content with his appearance, Felix swung out of his room, bag in tow, his phone tucked into his back pocket. 

Reagan was waiting for him in the kitchen. She walked over, watching him with a concerned look as he shoved a croissant into his mouth, before handing him a small goodie bag stuffed to the brim with little hand-made snacks and sweets. “Take these in case you get hungry. And don’t get lost. And make new friends. And if someone messes with you, tell me.” She said, fussing with his hair and smoothing out his shirt. 

Felix sighed, worming out of her grasp and tucking the snacks into his bag. “Yes, mom.” He said with a smirk, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m being serious. You never know what’ll happen.” Reagan let out another stressed and sleep-deprived sigh. 

“Relax. It’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to happen.” He assured her, slinging his bag across his shoulders. And he meant it. Nothing was going to happen this time. He was going to make sure of it. He was just a completely normal human guy, going to a normal human school, with his normal human best friends. Nothing else. No accidents, no mess-ups, and no mishaps. No explosions or losing control. Everything was going to be completely and one hundred percent normal. 

Reagan gripped him by the shoulders, turning so he was fully facing her. Her hands were tight around him, like she was trying to keep the both of them steady. “Felix, you have to be careful. Nobody can find out!” She said, voice tight with anxiety, almost hushed. He could just feel her stress, radiating off of her in waves. But when he met her worried gaze, her eyes softened, just slightly. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

Felix huffed, a mix of guilt and nervousness lingering in his chest as he shrugged her off again, quickly making his escape out of the kitchen and all of Reagan’s smothering. “Yes, yes, I know.” He paused at the doorway, waving off her concerns with a reassuring grin as he called over his shoulder. “You worry too much. I’ll see you tonight, alright?” 

Reagan let out a huff of amused exasperation, smiling despite herself. “What am I going to do with you…” She murmured under her breath, watching her little brother disappear down the hall with a wave. 

Felix burst out of their apartment, skipping down the steps leading to the bakery and giving Paisley a quick wave as he ran past her in the kitchen. As much as he loved Reagan, her nerves definitely weren’t helping him feel calm and prepared for whatever this new school might have in store for him. He knew there were over a million different possibilities for what could go wrong, he knew that his past track record wasn’t helping him in any way, and that even one step out of line could get him taken away…. Or—

No. Felix quickly shook that thought off, doing his best to forget about the possible horror scenarios and push them all out of his mind. It was going to be fine. Reagan was always worried — he was pretty sure she didn’t know how to function at this point without stressing about him just a little bit. So it was fine. He wasn’t going to get caught. Nobody was going to find out. He’d…. He’d make sure of it. 

“Felix!” A familiar chipper voice called out to him the second he stepped foot outside, a welcome distraction from his spiralling thoughts. 

Standing in front of the bakery were his two best friends, Bliss and Akali, one looking much more excited than the other. Bliss’ wispy black bob had been pinned up today with an assortment of cute little barrettes, her hair tucked behind her ears which were adorned with dangly little frog earrings that suited her perfectly. Her soft, pastel aesthetic and comfy clothes greatly contrasted to Akali, who was in all-black, wearing a baggy overcoat that looked far too large and bulky in Felix’s opinion, his dark blue hair neatly parted in the middle, giving a whole “dark and mysterious” look to his appearance. 

“Felix! I missed you!” Bliss said, greeting him with a bright smile, her eyes crinkling around the corners. Unlike Bliss’ wide grin and wave, Akali’s expression was harder to read behind his black mask, his eyes dull and tired. Instead of shouting out Felix’s name, he opted to raise up a gloved hand from inside his pocket in a small wave. “Hi.” 

Felix grinned at the two of them. One thing he knew for certain: With both his best friends at his side, he could tackle anything this new school threw at him, no matter how difficult or stressful it may be. 

“We met up last week, Bliss.” He told her with a small laugh. 

“Last week was so long ago.” Bliss retorted with a roll of her eyes, and Akali let out a huff of laughter. Together, the three turned onto the sidewalk, making their way to the direction of the school. 

“Are you excited for your first day?” Bliss asked, skipping alongside Felix. 

“Ugh.” Felix puffed out his cheeks, letting out a loud and exaggerated groan. “I guess. But it’s school, so….” 

“Maybe you’ll get a boyfriend!” Bliss said in a sing-song, making kissy faces at him. He laughed. “Ew, gross.” 

“Just kidding, just kidding!” Bliss said, shooting him another smile. “There are a lot of nice people here though!” 

Akali turned to Felix with a deadpan look: She’s lying. 

The three continued on their way, the silence of the early morning filled by Felix and Bliss’ nonstop chatting, but eventually, they found themselves in front of the school. 

Over summer break Felix had avoided stepping anywhere near this building — he would have rathered dying than checking out school while on vacation — but seeing Diantha Rose in its full glory now, it was…. Unimpressive, to say the least. Although it was much larger than his last school, it was old and ancient-looking, and kind of more rundown than he had been expecting. Having been to over twenty schools in the past eleven years, he guessed they all just ended up looking more or less the same at one point. Either way, Diantha Rose was definitely nothing to be scared of. Just like he thought, everything here was completely normal. He would fit in just fine. 

“Here we are.” Akali murmured, looking like he wanted to slip away into the shadows and never be seen again. 

“What classes do you guys have first?” Bliss asked. 

Felix pulled out his phone, squinting and the screen and skimming through his schedule. Math 20-2… no, that was third period. English 20-2… or wait, that was next semester. Where was it….?

“You have gym.” Akali said, interrupting Felix’s fumbling. He pointed down at the section that clearly read: 

PHYSICAL EDUCATION 10_5

Wildhorse Prader 

Period: 01 Room: Main Gym 

Felix grinned. So this day could get better. School with his best friends for the first time since probably kindergarten and Gym for first period. Maybe Reagan really was stressed over nothing. This school was a actually starting to seem like it wasn’t going to be so bad, even with its lackluster appearance. 

“I got Social, so I have to leave now.” Bliss said with a sigh. 

“I have Astronomy but it’s by the Gym, so I’ll walk you to class Felix.” Akali offered. With a wave goodbye to Bliss, the two of them set out in direction of the Gym, while she skipped off to wherever her Social class was. 

Akali walked beside Felix, completely silent as they navigated through the busy halls, which were slowly filling up the nearer the clock ticked to nine. But eventually, they stopped in front of two large double doors. “We’re here.” 

“Catch you later!” Felix said with a slight grin, giving him a wave before disappearing inside. 

“Bye.” Akali waved, continuing on the way to his Astronomy class. 

If only Felix had made a run for it while he still had the chance.

Bliss and Akali belong to @jiphenn \\

taglist • @seastarblue @vesanal @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @bioniclechronicles @lostcryptidinthewoods @lancedoncrimsonwings @blackboxwarrior-mkultra @whump-till-ya-jump @sharkblizzardblogs

• Let me know if you want on/off via dm or ask •

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #38: Ozai carries Azula to the physicians' wing

This has been done for A WHILE now, but I didn't post it because the past days have been chaotic and not just on a personal level. For one thing, I really wasn't eager to drop this when people were losing their shit massively over the liveaction and its recontextualization of Azula and Ozai's dynamics, I didn't look forward to releasing this just to be told that whatever I've done in my story is somehow wrong, sooooooooo... that held me back, for a few days.

Then? The AI-Tumblr deal started to be talked about and I may or may not have freaked out about that too. Sooo... this is the first glazed and nightshaded piece of my creation, as consequence. The original, clean and proper version is available in my Patreon. Is this me being a dick to Tumblr-only people? Unfortunately, it very much isn't, I'm not trying to say that if you want the best iterations of my art, you should pay me for it... this is squarely, entirely, at staff/the CEO's feet. Obviously, there's the insecure side of me that goes "what makes you think they'd steal YOUR art when there are so many better artists out there!" but ultimately? AI is about taking everything en masse. It isn't a matter of developing a criteria about who makes the better art... it's just taking EVERYTHING and trying to repurpose it in whatever twisted way it needs to. Therefore? I think my choice is more of a matter of caution than anything else. Once AI bullshit dies out (and I really hope it does), we may just return to the same level of quality across all my accounts. For now, it is what it is.

ANYWAY! Point is this artwork is very much what my Patrons happened to vote for this month, a very shocking scene where Ozai reacted in the least foreseen way to Azula being attacked. Azula's confusion/terror comes from a place of not knowing what to do and being powerless to stop her father even if she doesn't feel comfortable with his help... but for once, Ozai isn't making a dreadful choice that will only devastate his daughter. He's actually worried about her health... and feeling genuine guilt over what landed her in the situation where she was in danger in the first place. Yes. I like me my complex Ozai who finally learned actions have consequences. He bores me to death otherwise :') if anyone STILL doesn't know that this whole situation is Gladiator-specific, then I shall clarify fully: this is artwork based on my fic. It's about a story that has been developing these characters for ALMOST ELEVEN YEARS now. It has nothing to do with whatever's going on in canon or in the liveaction, the scene in question was written almost two years ago and the artwork proposed and voted for several days before the liveaction aired. Ergo: there is no connection between this and that. Nor am I saying through this piece that Ozai is a good father. He is not. He can still be an interesting character to work with on a narrative level anyway :')

Alright. With that out of the way, hope you guys like this piece! The big one I haven't posted is ALSO finished, also glazed and nightshaded, but I think I might just end up posting it on the 26th if I don't have time to do anything big for our eleventh anniversary... yep, I'm so busy I don't even have a huge project in mind this time. Also? I have a lot to write and I'm finally happily writing it, and I would like to continue doing that...

Anyway! If you would like to be part of the creative process behind this piece, as well as see it in its proper, OG, less color-bleeding clunky version? A $1 Patreon pledge gives you the chance to join in suggesting prompts, voting for them and reading Gladiator snippets 6 days before a new chapter is released!

[subzeroparade]

hello there, I would just like to say that you are an inspiration to me and my own writing journey. you have such a profound way of skillfully weaving a story, I adore your works. it really reminds me a lot of madeline miller and her amazing stories (I really like a specific style of writing, lol)

may I ask what your writing process is? I myself have trouble sticking to motivation and finishing my own works. hope this message reaches you well, cheers <33

(Long post warning, and sorry to the people still languishing in my inbox, especially anon who sent me a similar writing ask - I will get to it, but hopefully in the meantime you can glean something useful from this, too.) 

Thank you! Also, yes - I came back to creative writing a few years ago (after many years of nothing but academic writing, grad and post-grad) around the same time Miller published Circe, and my ER work definitely pays tribute to that. In the genre of modernised(not modern)-greek-myth-retellings, hers are the only ones I tolerate. (That’s not true, I do like Pat Barker’s work to an extent, though she’s much less lyrical than Miller. But sometimes you need that). 

To answer your ask, here's my writing process - but first, a couple of disclaimers:

Disclaimer 1: Everyone’s method is different, etc etc; this is a given. But I also have a decade’s worth of disciplined professional writing under my belt, which is very helpful when it comes to sitting down and just choking something out on paper, even when my brain is unwilling, or the spark is not there. This takes time to cultivate. 

Disclaimer 2: No writing method or process is going to work if you are not actively reading. All the time. There is never a time I don’t have at least one book going. When I am feeling cheeky, I commit to four or five at once, all very different: novels (from disparate genres), edited volumes, anthologies, non-fiction; regardless, a wealth of different voices to draw from. If you are super busy, and we all are, at least try to read a bit before bed, it’s good for you. 

Anyway! Process:

STEP 1: A thing I might want to write: a scenario. A scene. An interaction between two characters. A short sequence of events. A long history. This particular climax, and its aftermath. The POV of that particular character. How am I going to do that? What do I need to know? What are the possible approaches - which POV, past or present, told or retold, and in what manner? 

Ex: before I sat down to write Litanies (Bloodborne), I knew I was interested enough to commit to a fic about the Fishing Hamlet. There are a million ways to do this. It was only while reading/watching certain material - journals, accounts of 19th century expeditions, a book about piecing together the mystery of a murder on another planet through conflicting eye-witness testimony, watching AMC’s The Terror - did it make sense to do an “interview” style, slow-burn mystery-box-esque piece, in which an interviewer has to piece together first-hand accounts of what happened (just like us, the Hunter!). Could I have done it another way? Yes. Would it have been nearly as interesting from a storytelling perspective? Not remotely. 

Tdlr; Who and what will I write about? In what way, and how will that approach make the work even stronger? How many things do I need to clarify about where and how this is going before I start writing? The tighter your plan - it doesn’t even need to be written down - the less likely you are to hit a wall later because you don’t know where you’re trying to go or what you’re trying to say. 

STEP 2: I start plotting scenes. For Vanitas (Elden Ring), I knew I wanted to write the history of Godwyn’s war and subsequent allegiance with the ancient stone dragons. I would need battle scenes, political intrigue and broader worldbuilding, alongside more intimate, dialogue-focused exchanges with Fortissax. On my shitty little notes app, I started writing these as they came to me, as I mulled over the ways to make them fight, meet, agree, quarrel, separate. Mostly, I start with the core of a scene - what is the question being answered, the main point, the crux of it? - and then build the rest of the scene around that. In that way it’s rarely, if ever, meandering and useless. Especially in short works - every scene should matter, and keep its focus where possible. You will be surprised how many disparate scenes you can merge into a single one for more impact.

Tldr; elevator-pitch style, what’s this work actually about??? And what scenes do I need for my readers to get it?

Big huge disclaimer here: at this stage, if I am starting to construct little bits and pieces in my notes app (everything from swathes of dialogue to jumbled “then he does this” reminders) they are in a very raw form. HOWEVER, at this point, I need to know how the story will end, especially if it is multi-chapter. I need to have outlined how these scenes flow into each other, and why. If it’s a vignette or one-shot, I need to know exactly what I will show, mood and message, so that it never becomes any longer than necessary, or loses the thread that holds it together, so to speak. 

STEP 3: I have a lot of material in my shitty little notes app (this will vary, depending on the size of your piece. The outline of A History of Iniquity (Elden Ring) was about 8k, which makes sense for a work that’s gonna top out at 80k). It’s time to bring it over to proper writing software. There, I start sorting my notes into scenes, as well as supplementary material (stuff that feels useful, or important, like worldbuilding tidbits, but that I have yet to weave into the story progression). Personally, separating all my notes into these individual scenes makes me feel like I have a better handle on the work, and can bounce around from scene to scene without having to work in linear progression, which I almost never do. 

Tldr; organise. Today I feel like writing scene 4, tomorrow scene 2. Because I have a handle on the work’s structure and I always know where it will end up, this is easy to do. 

STEP 4:

Write it.

Sloppily, badly, plainly. Commit to writing a scene, or x number of words per day, and get it done. A bare minimum of what happens in that scene. Dialogue. Actions. This then that and then this. Just put it down.

This is my big secret: I am a good writer, but I am a better editor (alas, a thing you could never tell from the state of some of my Tumblr posts). Writing is the painful part. Editing is a joy. It’s all there - what is left for me to do but to make it smoother, shinier, more polished? Remove what is superfluous, add a punch where needed. I much prefer making a drab paragraph sing than the initial act of writing that paragraph. 

I spend more time on editing than I do writing. I read, I reread. I go away. I come back, fresh, and reread again. I reread my work until I know enormous amounts of it by heart, then I go away, put it out of my mind, read something else, come back and edit again. There is no way around this, especially if you are writing fic and you don’t have a beta (or at least a first/second reader). It can always, always, always be better. The more aggressively you edit, the better you train your critical eye, and the sharper you are on your next first draft, or if you’re kind enough to beta for someone else. I am a ruthless editor (and I can and should be even worse), only because that’s what helped me, and I’d hope anyone better than me taking the time to look at my stuff would do me the same courtesy. 

STEP 5: Publish, go away, cry. If it’s fanfic, come back and read it for some last little edits. If it’s in an academic volume, cringe and hope no one reads it (/jk. Mostly). 

To come back to your initial point about motivation and sticking the landing -  some of that is going to have to come from you, personally. On my end, I finish what I start for three reasons.

I do not truly start the honest-to-god writing unless I have that body of notes already, and it’s hefty enough to serve as a skeleton. If I’m unsure, I’ll often leave ideas in this nebulous state of notes/ideation until I can come back with a clearer vision of what it would look like as a finished piece.

I do not start unless I am 100% committed to putting this work out there. If it’s too daunting, I’ll write it as a vignette or a one-shot, which is great practice, and there’s no excuse not to finish one. 

I do not start a work unless I know exactly how I am going to finish it. I more often than not know the last sentence of my work before I make it to the first draft stage. I know in amateur circles/fic writing it’s fine to just see where the work takes you, or leave the chapter count open, or whatever - it’s all practice, anyway - BUT I do think that if your main goal is closing a piece, then you need to be strict about how you get there. There’s plenty to do along the way, but at minimum know the scenes you need to make it to the finish line, and give yourself the tools to get there. 

THIS IS SO LONG I am terribly sorry, clearly I lied about being a good editor. 

Hope this helps! 

[floralegia]

4, 19, 27, 29 for the writing ask game! 💜💖

EEEEE thank you!!

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

OH GREAT SO YOU'RE COMING FOR MY HEAD RIGHT FROM THE START

Well, I counted 29 for this post, but as I noted there that doesn't include the plot bunnies chilling in my ideas doc (aka The List™) or either of the two bingo cards I currently have out, which between them have I want to say 32 prompts? So, you know. :'''')

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

There's important stuff being said, probably, but the only thought Pete's brain is capable of processing right now is this one: Oh my God, he's such a fucking DILF.

Well, okay, that's not exactly true, because as soon as that thought slides through his psyche, it butts right up against the answering one that shouts Patrick! That fucking DILF is fucking PATRICK!, and then he gets sort of stuck in that loop for a little while, until at last the DILF thing overpowers the shrieking confusion of the fact that up until a couple of minutes ago, he'd only known Patrick Stump as a sort of sweaty, scowl-y, angel-voiced teenager, and the whole thing starts over again with the urge to drool dramatically over the glasses and the beard and the fucking build of him, Jesus fucking Christ.

Suffice to say, it's been a challenging few minutes.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

There have been a couple of notable ones in recent memory, one that I won't name because I ended up posting it on a sock account and then this one. In both cases, I was essentially scared of being harassed over the content of the fics; the unnamed fic contains a couple of noncon scenes, and obviously the linked fic is Waycest, lol. Both have been received pretty well so far (touch wood), so, I mean, I'm definitely building up confidence, I think? I very strongly believe in the idea of writing whatever and who cares what people think, but also I am very small and very frightened lol. It's a whole thing.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Random fic idea, under the cut because it's a bit long: P2 RHPS AU feat. Bandom At Large!

Due to watching the video of Patrick's performance of "I Can Make You A Man" for the 2020 RHPS charity livestream--which, oh my God, by the way--I was struck by the idea of a Rocky Horror AU. To be clear, I don't mean an AU based on the movie the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I mean an AU about the boys putting on the Rocky Horror Picture show. So really, I suppose, it's a college community theater AU of some kind, but it's focused around RHPS. Not that I've been involved in a production myself, other than at CTY, I suppose, but having done community theater generally and attended RHPS productions, I think I can make a fair attempt.

So, anyway. Pete is running the thing--whole thing is his idea, he's the director, etc. I feel like this is likely not the first year, and in fact Pete likely inherited the production from an upperclassman. But they had a lot of people graduate last year, and they're having trouble backfilling those roles, so in addition to directing he's reprising his role as Rocky. They're advertising hard for musicians, too, because Pete--being a go big or go home kind of guy--ALSO wants to perform with a live band this year and do a proper Rocky Horror Show production, rather than perform in front of the film as they've typically done. That's how Patrick gets involved: he shows up to inquire about playing in the pit, because he's always trying to pick up odd musical jobs here and there to pay for school, and in true Fall Out Boy fashion he ends up singing a little bit and Pete's like, wait, no, holy fuck, sing this, throws the book at him, Patrick sings a bit of one of Frank's lines, and that's all she wrote. They've been having a particular amount of trouble casting Frank, and Pete decides Patrick is perfect for the role, which kind of baffles everyone else, especially Patrick, but Pete's like... distractingly pretty, so against his own better judgement Patrick agrees.

Beyond that, I'm not sure what the actual, like, plot would be. I think Patrick has a passing familiarity with RHPS but definitely not intimate knowledge, so partially he has to get up to speed. Partially, too, he has to overcome his stage fright and particularly his aversion to appearing on stage in front of a bunch of strangers while wearing sexy outfits and doing a lot of slutty slutty things, so there's that, but idk if that's a "plot" per se. There's also the implication/background of the production being sort of scrappy, but I don't know that that's a "plot" either, really. Hmmm.

Well, in the meantime, other notes that I had in my head include Gabe Saporta as Brad because I think that's really funny given his everything; Joe and Andy are definitely involved, I think with Joe playing Meatloaf and Andy drumming, or maybe Andy's Meatloaf and Joe is Riff Raff???? General DCD2/bandom cast... Uhhh, Ray should definitely be in the band/pit, Hayley Williams and Gerard are Magenta and Columbia (not sure which is which--I like Gerard as a sexy maid, so maybe he's Magenta???), and then that leaves, what, the criminologist??? Oh, and Janet, obviously. Maybe Greta from the Hush Sound is Janet? Or Vicky-T, that would make a lot of sense. Frank is either in the pit or he's the stage manager or something. Or crew. He kind of has insane stage crew energy. Mikey is... there. Possibly pit as well. Possibly just hanging around and the joke is everyone's always like, Mikey what the fuck are you doing here???? and he just shrugs and the answer is that he tends to get dragged into things Gerard's involved in and this is no different, but really he's just hanging around.

[mephiles-plush]

Why do you need it tagged anyway? It sounds stupid that you want people to tag it.

jesus christ what the fuck . ok i guess i need to explain jules lore now 🙁

major tw for grooming, self harm, eating disorders, & cyberstalking below

speaking about this has me very paranoid because i have a feeling that this is him but then again i have no idea. anyways

when i was 12 i was groomed by an 18 year old over instagram. at the time a friend and i were really into p/rsona and i would follow a lot of accounts based around the game. also i had previous ties with the j/ba fandom since i watched it in the past.

fast forward to the summer when i was 12 and it was literal hell. i had an already bad self harm addiction but it became worse when he entered the picture, saying that if i didnt stop he would start harming himself too. it didnt help with the fact he wanted me to be a certain weight and would force me to starve myself, and i had dealt with binge eating as a child & bulimia because of extreme bullying at a previous school. i dont even want to get into the fact he would make me send explicit pictures of myself.

this isnt even half the stuff hes done to me, but i wont disclose because of my own safety.

well how does this tie into p/rsona & j/ba? well we met BECAUSE of those fandoms. he was in a group of people who had their accounts themed for the characters of the p*****m t*****s and s******t c*******s. that group chat we were all in knew i was 12. they knew he was 18. they knew we were dating. they let it slide because he was their friend. they had no idea what he was making me do behind the scenes at all. i broke up with him that september.

in october, i completely changed my aesthetic to not be found. i changed my name. i did everything i fucking could so he wouldnt ever find me again. i was even using an obscure site to post on. he somehow fucking found me. i didnt know it was him at first. he was under a completely different alias. i opened a discord server around this time, and had a link on my profile so my friends and mutuals could join. bad idea. he joined the server and AGAIN i didnt know it was him. he would talk to me in dms and i was never concerned that it was him. things never escalated either.

anyways months go by and im still talking to him without knowing and im thinking of making him a mod. i tell a friend who had been with me the entire time during that whole shitshow during the summer and she says to me "didnt you know thats [his name] lol" i get fucking HYSTERICAL. why tell me now? why tell me now even if you know what happened? i was so paranoid that i banned that friend and him from the server and became scared of everything. i was scared to go online. i was deeply afraid of men, too.

at the time a lot of my social media accounts were connected (including my previous blogs) and i whilst going through my accounts on social media, i notice that hes following me EVERYWHERE. i block him multiple times but alts always came through. the most recent was actually a month ago. i made a joke on twitter about him going to be banned because he had a linktree in his bio and within 5 minutes of that post being up i checked his old account and it was GONE.

i know hes still around under a new alias that he makes music under but i dont know if he knows im here. sorry if you read all this i know its a lot but i felt like i needed an explanation and sorry if its disjointed im not in the right headspace rn

[bonny-kookoo]

Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)

Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now

Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg

Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.

Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.

Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.

But he's an artist, nonetheless.

Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.

Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.

Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.

Jungkook has a problem however.

He's wild.

Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.

And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.

He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.

No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.

He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.

"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.

"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.

"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.

"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.

"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.

Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-

and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.

But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.

You knew about all of this- and you were still around.

Nothing had changed.

Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.

Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-

You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.

He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?

Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.

No, he refused to deny himself that.

Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.

The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.

You made even the idea of touching fun.

He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.

So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."

He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.

You were stressing. A little.

Maybe.

Maybe a lot.

Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.

Just great.

Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.

But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.

It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.

You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.

He didn't move.

"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.

He thought it was cute.

"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.

"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.

"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.

"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.

In your own apartment.

What the hell?

If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.

"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.

You liked that.

Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.

Interesting.

"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.

"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.

"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.

"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.

"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.

"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.

Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.

Interesting, again.

Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.

However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.

And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.

The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.

“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.

“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.

“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.

“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.

This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And with that, he turns back to the TV.

You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.

You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.

Looking at his face is your first mistake.

His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.

"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.

It makes your spine tingle.

"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.

At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.

So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.

He wants to make you understand.

"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.

And you nod.

"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.

"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."

His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.

"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.

"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.

"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.

"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.

"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.

"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.

"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.

"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.

"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.

"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.

Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?

Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.

"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.

"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.

"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.

Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.

"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.

"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.

"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.

"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.

"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.

He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.

"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.

"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.

You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.

There's only one way to find out.

You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.

You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.

He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.

His sweater seems soft.

You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.

This is nice.

You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.

This is really nice.

"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.

"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.

"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.

He's glad.

Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.

Jungkook really has it bad.

You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.

"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.

"Not for food."

He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.

"Or what?"

His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.

"Bunny." You say.

He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.

He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.

"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.

He's not sorry.

"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.

He almost looks uncertain.

"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.

"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.

You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.

"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.

He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.

Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.

Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-

He's also opening his heart as well.

Your first time together is slow and comfortable.

It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.

Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.

He has to learn just as much as you do.

"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.

"Can I?"

It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.

"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.

Its after a moment that you realize it.

"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.

"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.

"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.

"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.

You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.

"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.

"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.

Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.

You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.

Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.

He sighs out.

And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.

You really were something else.

He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.

There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.

He's on cloud nine.

You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.

"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.

"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.

"This is a new start, for both of us."

"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.

"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.

"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.

"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.

"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.

It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.

It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.

It would make sense.

“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.

“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.

“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.

He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.

“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..

“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.

“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.

You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.

He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.

Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.

You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.

Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.

"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.

You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.

His Baby.

You're his.

He wants you.

It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.

You're his perfect puzzle piece.

He lets go.

"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.

Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.

Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.

He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.

"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.

"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.

"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."

"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.

It was still new to you.

Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.

"You." You say, and he chuckles.

"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.

"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.

"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.

By now you easily know your way around his apartment.

So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.

Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.

You love him.

And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.

"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.

Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.

But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.

And he's totally fine with that.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 3: Happy Little Accidents (Identities)

Prev

AO3

@maribat-bdbwm

Marinette stared at the man in front of her, trying not to let her jaw drop. Sure she’d seen pictures of Bruce Wayne last night, Adrien made sure she was well educated on the man’s less than ideal fashion choices. But his choice of a sharp suit or his eyes that too closely matched hers weren’t why her jaw dropped. No, her jaw dropped because-

“Batman!” She says, in a wonderful moment of word association added to the man’s height and build. Mr. Wayne’s eyebrow quirks up and Marinette’s face instantly turns bright red as she hears the snickers of her classmates around her. Marinette immediately wishes that they would have left her and gone back to the bus without her, but no such luck. Instead they got to see her embarrass herself in front of her bio dad for the first time. Not that they knew that, but still. It was the principle of the thing. 

“I-” Mr. Wayne starts, but she cuts him off. 

“Oh, no, oh my god, I’m- no, I’m so, so sorry. I just, you’re- and you- and well yesterday, um, so I just, you seemed really familiar and I saw Batman yesterday so I said it and I shouldn't have and I'm so sorry I'm just freaking out cause my bi- ohhhhh….I mean-” Marinette rambles on, her blush darkening as she tries and fails to let out a coherent sentence in front of the man. She’s mercifully saved by the sharp blare of an akuma alert, the phones of every one of her classmates blaring at the same time. Mr. Wayne and the other employees in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises look confused, but Marinette is relieved. 

“What-” Mr. Wayne tries to ask, but is cut off yet again. 

“Oh well that’s not good gotta go call Paris-bye!” She yells, rushing away from the group and towards the bathrooms. She groans at the look Kaalki give her when she opens her purse. 

“That was a disaster.” They say simply with an unamused face. Marinette groans again. 

“Please don’t remind me. Tikki, spots on! Tikki, Kaalki, unify!” Marinette yells before calling a portal and falling into Paris, the awkward situation pushed to the back of her mind while she pours her focus into her Ladybug duties. 

---

Bruce Wayne was confused. And worried. But mostly confused. Or, the confusion overweighed the worry until he asked about the alarm on the French class’ phones. That’s when the worry began to take center stage. A supervillian? In Paris? For almost two years? Why was the League not informed? 

“Um, would you like to watch the battle, Monsieur Wayne?” A blonde boy asks, holding his phone out and rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous fashion. Bruce studies the boy for a moment and recognizes him as the one who hugged Miss Dupain Cheng the day prior. His daughter. Who is currently living in a city with a supervillain and no League intervention. Nodding, Bruce takes the phone and watches the battle, his horror growing. There was one hero, rushing around the scene, one of her pigtails singed and soot covering her face. What the hell kind of villain was this? And why did the hero look so small? Bruce flinches as the hero, Ladybug the comments called her, is thrown against a building roughly. He waits with baited breath until she stands back up, her face set in a grimace before she went on the offense with a vengenace. 

“Who is this villain? I’ve never heard of them?” Bruce asks Adrien, not bothering to look away from the fight. 

“I don’t know this one’s name, Akumas all have different names and powers.” Adrien replies. Bruce’ gaze snaps up to meet Adrien’s as his blood runs cold. All. As in, multiple. 

“How many villains?” He asks, thankful that his newly discovered daughter is currently in Gotham instead of Paris, a sentiment he never expected with the crime rates of his beloved city. 

“Oh, there’s only one villain. Hawkmoth. Akumas are just people who’ve had a bad day.” Adrien explains as if it’s a simple concept. 

“And what does that mean?” Bruce asks, feeling frustration creep into his neutral posture. 

“It means that what you’re seeing right now is a normal citizen who’s being controlled. Hawkmoth…. He has the power to control anyone who shows an extreme negative emotion. Heartbreak, anger, sadness, lonelines, anything negative can be used against you. We, Paris that is, don’t blame those who were akumatized. They can’t even remember what they did when they were under his control. It wouldn’t be fair to hold them accountable.” Adrien explains, and Bruce can’t help the feeling of complete and total helplessness that rushes over him. If he went to Paris, even with the intention of helping the hero in order to protect his daughter, he could become an even bigger obstacle. He could hurt her. He could hurt others. 

“Is that why the Justice League isn’t there?” Bruce asks, slightly amused at Adrien’s face rapidly changing from understanding to shocked. 

“I-um, probably? If you want more information, miraculousparis.org or the Ladyblog would be your best places for information.” Adrien offers. Bruce nods, mentally making a note to check out those sites later. 

“Very well. Thank you. I hope the rest of your trip to Gotham is enjoyable.” Bruce says, careful not to slip into a threatening tone. The boy hadn’t done anything to him, and while he might want to play the protective father, he knew it wasn’t his right. Not yet, anyways. Now he had a supervillain to destroy from behind the scenes. 

---

Opening a portal into her hotel room, Marinette sighs tiredly. The battle had been tiring, especially since she was on her own. Chat Noir had some kind of trip that he couldn’t get out of and had aplogized endlessly for it. She had reassured him that she could do it, but now… she knew she could do it but she really missed her partner. Letting both transformations drop, she sighs, relieved that the odd number of girls in their class allowed her to have her own room. Until a gasp filled her ears. She instantly shifts into a fighting position, shoulders tense as she stares at-

“Adrien?!” She yells in shock and confusion. What was he doing? In her hotel room? Without her? How did he even get a key? How was she supposed to explain this? Well, he did know the basics from his time as Aspik but-

“But you’re Multimouse!” Adrien yells before clapping his hand over his mouth, his cheeks instantly turning red. Marinette’s eyes widen. 

“How do you know about that?” She asks, panic rushing through her system. 

“Oh my god.” Adrien says, his eyes widening as he glances from Marinette to Tikki and back again. “Oh my god.”

“Please don’t tell anyone! I know you don’t owe me anything, but I just really don’t know if I can handle being the center of attention and then my family would be in danger and I know they wouldn’t approve because it’s dangerous and I-”

“THE TWO GIRLS I HAVE A CRUSH ON ARE THE SAME GIRL?” Adrien says, his eyes wide as he cuts off her rambling. 

“I- wait what?” Marinette sputters, completely shocked at this turn of events. 

“Well I’ve had a crush on Ladybug for forever and then like a month ago, I was talking to Plagg about how mad it made me that people weren’t listening to you and how hurt you were by the whole high road advice which was, honestly, not my best moment. And somehow, I started ranting about how pretty your eyes are and how kind and amazing you are and so then Plagg told me that that’s a crush, and I thought he was wrong. Until I saw you the next day and realized that he was right but then I felt bad because I felt like I was betraying Ladybug by having a crush on you instead, but Ladybug is you. Which makes sense, now that I think about it and-” Adrien’s cut off by Marinette covering his mouth with her hand, desperate to get him to stop talking. 

“Plagg?” She asks, jumping back from him as the Kwami flies out from Adrien’s pocket. 

“Good job kid, you broke pigtails.” He says, gesturing at Marinette who suddenly felt like the human version of the windows error screen. Could this trip get any weirder?

Next

Tag List: @vixen-uchiha @liquid-luck-00 @stainedglassm @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks 

[littlebigmouse]

I'm thinking about the Big Bang Job and again and like-

I don't think Hardison is mad at Eliot for almost drowning in that pool. Yes, he was probably freaking out in six different ways, but if Hardison made a list of Top Three Reasons To Be Mad At Eliot For Today, the pool wouldn't even show up on the list, or make a tentative third place tops.

The primary reason Hardison is angry with Eliot? Lack of communication. Because Eliot spend six months being prissy with Sophie for "conning her own crew" by withholding information about the Second David, and then turns around and spends six months withholding information about their mark. Because even when it was clear that they were finally going up against Moreau, Eliot stood quietly. He announced that Hardison and him would take care of the invitation, watched Hardison come up with a plan how to get in, and still didn't say anything. There was presumably a bit of a drive to the hotel, and Eliot said nothing. They were standing by the door, Hardison already trying to get through the first line of security with his plan, and then Eliot starts derailing the plan, as bare-bones as it is, and still doesn't explain anything. Hardison spends the elevator ride down hissing questions at Eliot, but doesn't get an answer or a signal or anything, which is granted the point at which an explanation was long overdue and not really possible anymore.

I don't think Hardison thought Eliot had betrayed him, he still plays his part and probably puts enough of the puzzle together just from the brief interaction he catches between Eliot and Moreau ("He prefers beer"). I don't think he blamed Eliot for getting kicked into the pool, was probably still counting on Eliot to get him out in time. because Hardison can think of plenty of reasons why Eliot wouldn't've wanted to tell them anything, but even more reasons why he should have anyway.

The first thing Hardison does once they're out of Moreau's earshot? Ask for reassurance. Extend an olive branch. He tells Eliot how he got more air and asks whether that was Eliot's plan. It's something Nate would have done, probably, get Hardison into the impossible situation and rely on him getting himself out of it, make that part of the plan. Hardison is freaked, but he isn't angry yet. It's an implied "I did the thing, did I do good? That was part of your plan?" Maybe even "You counted on me getting out of there in one piece, right?" And Eliot, all angry and prickly and vulnerable dismisses Alec, admits, under a layer of sarcasm, that there wasn't a plan, he had no idea Hardison would suck air out of a chair, dismisses his request for reassurance.

Now, the next time we see the two? Hardison is furious. They reunite with the rest of the group and Hardison just bites out "Tell them".

I think it's safe to assume that even after they got out of the hotel, they spend the drive back in silence. Or at least, Hardison asking questions until he realizes Eliot still won't give him answers, Eliot all frustrated himself, just telling Hardison to shut up. Maybe Hardison didn't ask questions and was waiting for Eliot to start talking, start explaining what just happened. Eliot remaining still, and stoic and still not saying a word.

That's why Hardison is angry after the pool scene. Because Eliot had had all these opportunities to open up and explain vital information, trust Hardison with it, and didn't. Even after the fact. Because Eliot betrayed his trust, plain and simple, and didn't even have a plan to show for it. No exit strategy. And they could have come up with one for sure, had Eliot just given them the intel. If not six months ago, then when they split up to start taking down Moreau. If not then, then on the way to the hotel the latest. But Eliot didn't, and didn't even explain after the fact, not until the crew was all reunited again and Hardison's suit dry. Not until Hardison, fuming with anger, hissed at him to "Tell them."

[ Because Eliot may have counted the seconds, but he had no idea how Hardison would keep himself alive, and by all accounts, Hardison, an untrained geek, who can hold his breath for thirty seconds and significantly less if freaking out, wouldn't have survived the encounter according to Eliot's calculations. ]

And honestly? I'm disappointed there never was a follow up. Hardison seems to deflate once Eliot opens up even the tiniest bit ("Don't ask me that, Parker"). He probably gets why Eliot didn't say anything, understands not wanting to bring up memories on a scale of bad he can imagine but will never be through. And then he's busy with a bomb either way. But just because Hardison understands doesn't mean they shouldn't have talked about it again, because after three years of friendship and trust, after months of shared frustration over Sophie, and then Nate, conning them, after "You don't con your own crew", Eliot still didn't tell Hardison anything until it was too late. And even then only gave a sliver of intel once the rest of the crew started pressuring him about it too.

And yeah, that should have left more repercussions than it did.

[no--envies]

Nightless City – An analysis of Wei Wuxian’s accountability

I’ve come across several takes about the bloodbath of Nightless City that don’t really sit well with me. Some people say Wei Wuxian is totally to blame, others that he’s totally blameless, and I personally disagree with both. I think that, like in many other events in the novel, what really happened is more complex.

(All the translations are by Exiled Rebels Scanlations)

First of all, the text shows us that Wei Wuxian wasn’t completely clear-headed even before going to Nightless City, which is normal considering what he was going through. His whole world had crumbled in just a few hours. Everything he’d done until that moment – the sacrifices he had made for what he believed was right – appeared to be for nothing. He ended up hurting the people most dear to him, and he couldn’t even protect those he had wanted to protect. When he could move again after the three days he spent in the cave immobilized by Wen Qing’s needle, for a while he didn’t even know what to do or where to go.

After he got down the mountain, he stood amid the bushes, catching his breath. Bent down, he propped his hands against his knees for a long while before he stood up straight again. Yet, looking at the wild grasses that covered many of the mountain paths, he didn’t know where to go.

Burial Mound—he’d just gone down from there.

Lotus Pier—he hadn’t been back in over a year.

Koi Tower? Three days had passed already. If he went now, it was likely that Wen Qing’s corpse and Wen Ning’s ashes were the only things left.

He stood blankly. Suddenly, he felt that the world had no place for him, despite how large it was. He didn’t know what to do either.

(Chapter 77)

It’s rare to see Wei Wuxian so utterly lost and miserable. What happened was too much for even someone like him – who always tends to look at the bright side of any situation – to be able to deal with it. Since he doesn’t know where else to go, he decides to go to Koi Tower to retrieve the Wen siblings’ ashes, but he doesn’t manage to do anything before he’s discovered and forced to flee. He wanders without purpose for a long time until he arrives at a city gate where he hears a group of cultivators talking about him with contempt, which triggers his anger.

The longer Wei WuXian listened, the colder his expression grew.

He should’ve understood long ago. No matter what he did, not a single good word would come out of these people’s mouths. When he won, others feared; when he lost, others rejoiced.

He was cultivating the crooked path either way, so what exactly did the years of persistence mean? What exactly were they for?

However, the colder his eyes were, the brighter the raging fire within his heart burned.

(Chapter 77)

We see him come to a very bitter realization: no matter his noble intentions and moral integrity, everyone has already made up their mind about him, he would be made into a villain no matter what he does. Before what happened at Qiongqi Path he had managed to keep a positive mindset, since he was doing fine in the Burial Mounds with the Wen remnants. It wasn’t an easy life, but they were safe, they didn’t starve and Wei Wuxian was free to focus on his research and inventions in peace, creating the Compass of Evil and the Spirit-Attraction Flag. He missed his family, but he also found another one. He had people who loved him and valued him, and whom he loved and valued in turn. All in all, he was content. He thought that as long as he didn’t actively seek trouble, the world would leave him alone. But he was wrong. Jin Zixun ambushed him accusing him of something he didn’t do, and everything spiraled down so quickly he couldn’t do anything to prevent it, until he lost control of his demonic cultivation and killed Jin Zixuan.

In this moment, Wei Wuxian feels completely alone. The Wen siblings are gone, his beloved shijie might hate him for killing her husband and the cultivation world as a whole can’t wait to besiege him. If it had been another time, he wouldn’t have beaten up those random cultivators. It’s not like it was the first time he heard awful rumors about himself. The fact that he reacts so violently here says a lot about the state of mind he’s in. Wei Wuxian is clearly looking for a way to vent his anger, so he takes it out on the cultivators who are speaking ill of him. His rage is justified: not only were they saying malicious things about him without even knowing the full story, but they were doing it cowardly behind his back. However, his reaction is somewhat disproportionate to their offense: one of them gets kicked in the face until he passes out from the pain, while another gets his legs broken for daring to speak up. Although he doesn’t kill them, he does terrorize them and in the end he leaves them there immobilized by the spirits he had summoned (if Lan Wangji hadn’t been looking for Wei Wuxian, who knows how long they would have had to wait to be freed).

After this, Wei Wuxian sees the announcement of the pledge conference and goes to Nightless City. I’ve seen people argue that he was only trying to protect the Wen remnants and that the people who were there had already pledged to kill him, so it was self-defense. But is it really the case? Personally, I don’t think what he did was self-defense. Sure, he tried to discuss first and didn’t attack until he was attacked, but defending himself and the Wen remnants wasn’t the main reason he was there in the first place.

The crowd flung curses at him, but Wei WuXian accepted all of them.

Anger was the only thing that could suppress the other feelings within his heart.

(Chapter 78)

All of his pain, desperation and guilt were too much to handle at once, so he tried to suppress them all with anger, and directed that anger at the people who hated him. Wei Wuxian didn’t go to the pledge conference to try to prevent the siege from happening (since he thought it wouldn’t change anything anyway) or to weaken the Sects’ forces. He went there to vent his anger and frustration. Wei Wuxian is not clear-headed here, as highlighted by this passage:

Wei WuXian spun around to dodge the attack and laughed, “Fine, fine. I knew since the start that we’d have to fight a real fight like this one sooner or later. You’ve always found me disagreeable no matter what. Come on!”

Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s movements paused, “Wei Ying!”

Although he shouted the words, any sane person would be able to tell that Lan WangJi’s voice was clearly shaking. However, right now, Wei WuXian had already lost his judgement. He was already half-mad, half-unconscious. All evil was being augmented by him. He felt that everyone loathed him and he loathed everyone as well. He wouldn’t be scared no matter who came at him. It wouldn’t matter no matter who came at him. It was all the same anyway.

(Chapter 78)

In this moment Wei Wuxian believes everyone hates him and there’s no use trying to convince them otherwise – there’s no use trying to reason with them in a diplomatic way because no matter what he says or does, his words will be twisted to fit the opinions of the crowd. He almost welcomes the attack because this way he can attack them back and vent all his pent-up anger. Wei Wuxian is not behaving like his usual self here. He can’t see Lan Wangji isn’t trying to hurt him because his mind is not lucid. This is why he loses control of his demonic cultivation for the second time, injuring Jiang Yanli.

His shijie is the only one who manages to calm him down a little despite his chaotic state of mind. He manages to stop the corpses from attacking everyone and waits for her to tell him what she thinks of him, if she forgives him or not. However, she dies to save his life before being able to say anything, and the whole situation becomes simply too much for him to bear. All of his emotions crush him at once, so in his already half-unconscious state he activates the Tiger Seal, effectively erasing any chance he might have had to redeem himself in the eyes of society.

The point of this analysis isn’t to blame or absolve Wei Wuxian. It’s very easy to empathize with his anguish in these scenes. What he was going through was incredibly stressful and the root cause (the ambush at Qiongqi Path) wasn’t his fault. Even Lan Wangji says he can neither condemn nor justify his actions, but he’s willing to face all the consequences with him anyway.

I told [Wangji] when I went to see him, Young Master Wei had already made a grave mistake, there was no use augmenting it. But he said… that he could not say with certainty whether what you did was right or wrong, but no matter what, he was willing to be responsible for all of the consequences alongside you.

(Chapter 99)

Wei Wuxian isn’t blameless for what happened at Nightless City. I don’t think he’s proud of what he did and all the people he killed, either. The fact that he destroyed the Tiger Seal after returning to the Burial Mounds is quite telling. He definitely didn’t act in the most rational and clear-headed way, which resulted in a lot of people – including his shijie – to lose their lives, but the point of all this is that Wei Wuxian is human. He makes mistakes because no one is infallible, no matter how heroic, selfless and virtuous. Not even he can be totally immune to all the criticism and accusasions, even though he often acts like he is. Wei Wuxian is a fundamentally positive person, so most of the time he can ignore the bad things that happen to him and focus on the good, but this time his situation was simply too extreme for anyone to be able to stand it.

[thiserichann]

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

  He opened the chat and started typing right away.

  LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

 Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

 "Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

  You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You  sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

[kusagrasskusa]

Michael Myers X Short! Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

I wrote this story on Wattpad (@Red_scarfed_person) and decided to post it here lol. If you saw this on Wattpad and don't believe me, you can go to my page on Wattpad and see that in my Messages, I talk about having a Tumblr account and left my Tumblr username there :)

And rereading my old story scared me. If you're here expecting a violent, fearful story, please don't read this. This is full of the sarcasm someone who lacks sleep can muster.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ah yes. Y/N's favorite part of the day. Trying to cook. Was that sarcasm? Partially.

Y/N loved cooking; it was so satisfying to see people enjoy her food. But the part she hated was trying to reach the goDDAMN bowls and ingredients from the cabinets. Why did the construction workers have to put them 17 light years high?

Of course, it wasn't the construction workers' fault. It's just that Y/N is the size of a fifth grader. 4'6" tall. What makes it harder to live being so short? Living with someone who's 6'7."

You see, a while ago, there was a certain incident...

A tall male in a white mask and blue jumpsuit, brown hair and blue eyes, found himself in the home of another. He silently panted in his mask, in pain even if he wouldn't show it. Rolling up his sleeves and pulling up the bottom of his shirt, Michael started checking for severe wounds.

"Damn, you're hot..." Some short woman mumbled, turning on the kitchen light. Michael perked up, pulling his shirt back down and reaching for his knife.

"Oh, damn, wrong time to speak up? Sorry," Y/N said, not even knowing if she was being sarcastic in that sentence or not. Mainly since author-san doesn't know if their being sarcastic or not. Anyway--

Michael started walking towards her with the knife, not running since we all know that Michael can walk and still win Olympic runs. Y/N just grabbed a candy bar in her cabinet, opening it and taking a bit.

Michael was confused as hell. As a result, he stopped walking and lowered the knife. "So, you're not gonna kill me? That sucks since my dept is unbelievably high." Michael blinked quickly in confusion, thinking, then it might not be too high with short you are.

Y/N sighed, then gasped. "Oh wait! You're that boogeyman guy who everyone is scared of!" Y/N said with a small smile. She wasn't sadistic or anything, but she was sorta excited to see him.

Michael just stood there, not even knowing how to react for the first time in his life. Y/N then sighed again, throwing away the wrapper to the candy bar and shrugging. "If you decide to kill me later, stab my neck. It's very sensitive. Oh and my room is down the hall, to the left. And my couch is comfortable if you wanna sleep there."

And with those last words, Y/N walked to her room, closing the door behind her and getting it bed. Leaving a confused serial killer.

The next morning, Y/N yawned as she walked out of her bedroom and to the kitchen. Her kitchen and living room was one large room, the kitchen set to the right near the front door, and the living room on the other side of the room.

Between them is a hallway that leads to a bedroom and bathroom. It was a two story house. The top two floors had an office room, another bathroom, and a storage room.

Anyway, Y/N rubbed sleep from her eyes as she walked over to the stove and grabbing a pan. She also pulled out milk, pepper, salt and eggs and set them ok the counter. But now she needed a bowl to even put those in.

Michael heard noise from the kitchen which resulted in him waking up. He slowly sat up on the couch, turning to face Y/N. He got up and walked towards her.

"Why is this so high up," Y/N mumbled to herself as she tried to reach a bowl from a cabinet. She couldn't even reach the handle on the cabinet. Growling in frustration, Y/N gave into defeat.

But then comes Michael opening the cabinet for her, making her help and turn around. "W-Who the hell are you!" Y/N shrieked, blushing a bit. I mean, here she is, a tiny gal blocked in the corner of the kitchen by a tall, mascular guy.

Memories came flooding back and Y/N remembered who he was. "Ooooh, so you're that boogeyman guy? I remember now...wait... I let a damn serial killer into my house!?" Y/N shrieked again as Michael set down the bowl, turning on the stove.

As Y/N went through her epiphany, Michael actually started to cook. It wasn't until he was done did Y/N snap out of it. He set out two plates and cups, putting the scrambled eggs on them and filling the cups with F/D.

"W-Wait...so you aren't going to kill me? You're really gonna..." Y/N mumbled as Michael grabbed a nearby receipt and pen. He wrote down something, making Y/N shush and lean over at what he's writing.

"My name is Michael. I'm not planning on hurting you anytime soon. What is your name?" it read. Y/N was confused as hell now. Why would he spare her? What is so special about her? I should just be grateful, Y/N thought.

"I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N..." Y/N said, looking up at Michael. She blushed a bit, making eye contact. Michael grabbed a plate and cup and handed it to her, then grabbed his own and sat down at the small diner table. Well, way to go from one thing to another, Y/N thought as she sat down next to him.

As much as it confused her, Y/N still wasn't sure how she was still alive. But she was grateful she was, anyway. She always the tall male attractive, but never had feelings for him until recently.

Even if he'd refuse to get things for her that were high up, give her looks that just screamed out about her being short, and wrote down short on sticky notes and put them everywhere, she fell for him. What a lovely crush.

"Why the hell are the damn cabinets 17 light years high," Y/N growled as she climbed on the counter. Just as she was about to grab a bowl, she yelped when large arms wrapped around her an pulled her down carefully.

"Michael! Hey, let go!" Y/N yelled, trying to be serious despite how much she wanted to smile and laugh. Michael shook his head, hugging her tighter.

Despite how badly be wanted to tease her about her height, he kept quiet of course. He didn't just want a hug, either, he wanted to pull her down so she'd have to struggle to get back on the counter again. As said before, what a lovely crush.

Michael eventually pulled away, taking a couple steps back. Y/N looked over at him with a sour-sweet look, blushing a bit. She crossed her arms, "so, was that all you wanted?" Yeah, is that all you wanted, baka? ≧n≦

Michael shook his head, pointing to the bathroom. Y/N raised a brow. "What?" She asked, thinking for a moment. "You need a towel or something?" Michael then nodded.

Y/N smiled a bit, nodding. She walked to her room, Michael following until they reached the door. Grabbing a towel, Y/N walked back over to him and handed it. "It might be a bit small for a giant such as yourself, but here."

Michael nodded, then walked towards the bathroom and went inside. Y/N smiled a bit, thinking to herself about what he'd look like once he got out. It made her cheeks heat up and her heart beat a bit faster.

And about 15 minutes later, Y/N was back in the living room, watching TV. "C'mon, Saitama, beat the hell outta them..." Y/N mumbled under her breath, watching an intense fighting scene.

Y/N perked when she heard the bathroom door open and looked over. Long story short about that was happening in her mind: bad idea.

"MMMM-" Y/N screamed muffledly, having covered her mouth with a pillow that moment. Her face was red, blushing hard from the sight. The towel covered just enough on Michael to where nothing was shown, but he was h o t. Even the scars on him weren't seen as disturbing or anything.

Michael cocked his head, holding his clothes in his hands. He ignored Y/N's reaction to seeing him, since he only cared about his jumpsuit being cleaned. Of course he would act like that--

Y/N, already knowing what Michael wanted, slowly stood up and walked over. She was figitting, clearly still flustered as she grabbed his clothes. "I-I'll just, uh, go wash these..." She mumbled as she walked passed him quickly, to the washing machine and dryer.

Michael blinked a couple times, thinking about the hell he's supposed to where for the time being. Just the towel?

About five minutes passed, Michael was still waiting next to the bathroom for Y/N to come back. He just wanted something to c h a n g e i n t o.

Alas, the moment finally came. Y/N walked back out after almost crying to herself in the laundry room. Typing this out now made me realize I'm making it sound like Y/N was-- well, if you know, you know. But no, that wasn't happening. Our child, Y/N, was just flustered, ok? Yes, our child. I care about you so much reader and I love your OC even though idfk what they look like. They're a beautiful specimen. :):):):):):) Anyway, back to the story.

"H-Hey," Y/N stuttered as she walked out, waving as Michael. Michael, who kept his mask on by the way, just rolled his eyes from inside the mask, handing her a piece of paper. It said that he needed a change of clothes, to which Y/N just chuckled about. "I-I mean...Do you reallllyyy? Can't you just stick with that? You don't look too bad in it, heh heh."

Michael have her a dull look from under his mask, making Y/N sigh. "Fine, whatever. But let's be honest, I'm not gonna have anything that fits you. You should just stick with that," she said, shrugging and pretending to calm about seeing him like that. She was clearly in a flirty mood, which she sometimes gets like when she wants to annoy Michael.

He likes to out sticky notes everywhere with the word short on it, pull her off counters so she has a harder time getting stuff from cabinets, and put his hand above her head as if he was saying, "You're not tall enough to do ____." So it's only normal she would flirt to get him back. But mayyybe acting like that isn't a good decision on her part.

Michael sighed silently, grabbing Y/N"s wrist softly. "Wha--" Y/N cut herself off when Michael pulled her close, leaning down to get his face close to her's. Then, for the very first time in years, Michael spoke.

"Whatever makes you happier~" Michael whispered in her ear; his voice was low and husky. Y/N turned red immediately, incapable of even coming up with a response. Hold on- a tall, mysterious guy with a good figure pulled me close and now can speak, in a hot goddamn voice at that, Y/N thought.

Michael caressed her cheek, pulling away. Y/N had her mouth slightly parted, her eyes widened. "Yo...You can..." Y/N stuttered, not even able to come up with a sentence. So instead, she just nodded slowly, slowly walking into her room and gesturing for him to follow. Michael smiled proudly under his mask, following her.

Yes, what he did was small but Y/N was the kind of person to be a bit extra about these things. Of course it affected her. Anyway, about five minutes later, Y/N couldn't find anything for him to wear other than a large hoodie and very oversized sweatpants she got from a Plot Convenience Sale, which was kinda tight for him. But at least she had a use for the sweatpants, since that was kinda just in her closet.

Y/N took a deep breath once Michael was done changing, coming out of her room. Of course, she left the room when he got changed so don't think dirty, precious readers. Y/N looked over, smiling a bit with heated cheeks at Michael. The small moment from earlier was still bothering her.

"Does it fit?" she asked, raising a brow. Michael nodded, putting his hands in the hoodie pockets. "That's good," Y/N mumbled, staring at the ground awkwardly. A couple moments of silence later, Michael smiled from under his mask, taking it off while Y/N was too busy being lost in a daydream to notice.

"Thank you," Michael whispered as her kissed her forehead, making Y/N flinch. Because Michael appears to be as fast as light, he was already putting his mask on by the time Y/N looked up. Her face was red again, but even worse than before.

"M-Michael, did you just--" Michael was already walking away, brushing her off. "Hey, listen to me!" Y/N yelled as she caught up to him. Like hell that was going to be a one time thing, Y/N thought. I'm going to see his face eventually, she promised herself.

[wheredafandomat]

Chimera 🌌

Part 11 : Doctor

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6 years ago

It had been just over half a year that you had been an Avenger now. Great would have been a criminal understatement to how everything was going. As promised, whenever you and Loki had a day off, you’d both venture to the library together before stopping for food on the way back to the compound. You had both also started writing small poems to one another about phatic things. You’d both usually try and slip a word in that you didn’t think the other would know the meaning of. Most of the time, Loki would pretend he didn’t know the meaning and you’d explain it to him but his knowing smile never went un missed. Occasionally Cassie was able to join you both however she didn’t much enjoy libraries. Cassie wasn’t much of a reader or writer or lover of much. She liked expensive restaurants and going on missions.

You remembered when Cassie first recruited you. There were over 60 candidates all thinking that they were SHILEDs next greatest asset. Cassie always said how they were either too loud or too unfocused however you were quick, calculating and quiet. She’d often say that determination was evident in your stance and that was one of the main reasons she took a liking to you and helped to train you before you went on any actual SHIELD missions. When you found out that Clint was no longer going to be apart of the Avengers permanently, you knew that Cassie was an easy replacement so when she and Fury asked you to join, you were stunned. Almost immediately you agreed and that’s what brings you here now awkwardly watching her kiss her boyfriend.

“I would very much like to leave” you coughed, interrupting their kissing.

“I’ve always wanted to do it in a library” Cassie whispered to Loki.

“That would be wrong of us.” Loki replied, turning towards you when Cassie tried to kiss him again.

“Don’t stop on my account, I’m going to leave” you insisted, excusing yourself as you stood up.

“Fancy seeing you here” Stephen said standing behind you.

“Hello doctor” you smiled, spinning on your heels to face Stephen who you also had grown accustomed to in your time as an avenger. The constant flirting between you both hadn’t gone unnoticed, especially by Natasha who would always tease you about him. However the flirting was just that, flirting.

“How about we go someplace else, leave these two alone on their day off.” Stephen suggested.

“No” Loki interrupted standing up “we’ll all go.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned.

“Yeah, we’re done here anyways, we might as well all leave together.” He nodded.

“Alright, let’s go.” You encouraged.

The four of you walked out together. Loki and Cassie had linked hands whilst you and Stephens kept brushing past each other. Looking at him, he gave you a coy smile before grabbing your hand and swinging your arm as you walked, causing you to laugh. When the four of you reached near the top of the street, you spotted a crowd of people gathered around someone on the floor. Like instinct, the four of you raced towards the scene, pushing through the crowd of people to see a man laying on the floor and gasping for air.

“STEPHEN, DO SOMETHING!” You shouted.

“Ok everybody stay calm, y/n, phone an ambulance. Loki I need you to get me an outer cannula with an inflatable cuff, an inner cannula and an obturator. Cassie, make some space please.” Stephen ordered calmly.

Your shaky fingers dialled for an ambulance whilst Cassie got everyone to move backwards. Loki had managed to conjure the things Stephen had asked for however there was some sort of altercation.

“Stephen, what’s going on?” You questioned frantically as the man on the floor began loosing colour.

“I’m a neurosurgeon” he said taking a sharp breath “I don’t specialise in what I’m about to do. Right, scrap that. I need a ballpoint pen and for you to take a step backwards y/n.” He requested. Loki handed him a pen and Stephen removed the ink from inside before taking a deep breath and—

“STEPHEN” you exclaimed as he stabbed the man in the throat.

“I needed to clear his airway.” Stephen explained as the man on the floor relaxed as if he was starting to be able to breathe again. The sound of an ambulance arriving could be heard before medics rushed to the scene. Stephen stood from his kneeling position as the medics took the man before you grabbed him into a deep kiss.

“I knew you liked me.” Stephen grinned as you broke the kiss.

“I’m never going to stop calling you doctor now” you smiled. “This kiss is also just me getting rid of all this built up adrenaline from watching you save a life.” You added before kissing him again. The people around you clapped before you and Stephen pulled apart from each other.

“PDAs are disgusting.” Cassie joked.

“Indeed.” Loki added with a grimace.

“Considering we’re all off today, we should have a small celebration in the compound. A few drinks, it’ll be fun.” You suggested as Stephen put an arm around your back.

“I was just doing what I swore an oath to do.” Stephen said, putting the other hand on his heart.

“You’re being modest doctor. Tonight, we drink.” You cheered before the four of you headed back towards the compound.

On the journey back, you could mainly hear Cassie speaking to an unresponsive Loki as you all walked.

“Are you even listening?” She asked, swatting his shoulder.

“Reticence” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?” Loki asked, finally speaking.

“Reticence” you repeated “you’re showing quite a lot of reticence Loki, you’re being uncommunicative.” You tittered.

“I’m impressed.” He retorted with a smile.

A/N: Doctor 🤤 Let’s partayy!!

Tags:

@mischiefsarawr

@nikt-wazny-y

[ybangtannies]

Hiiii I am new t the whole requesting thing so first for everything 🥰 So, here it goes A scenario for yandere namjoon where there’s lawyer y/n who’s hardworking and mature x businessman namjoon who is corrupt in his business ways 👉👈 I dunno if this is okay 🤡

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

“I don’t get it, why don’t we just throw them off and stop having them as our clients? This could end so bad for us, the whole law firm could be affected by their- his antics.”

“We have already talked about this,” your friend sighed not sparing you a look, eyes focused on her phone, “yes, it’s a well-known secret that Mr. Kim’s business is corrupt, and he surely doesn’t make the most legal negotiations but,” now she did look at you, her brown eyes showing the tiredness of having to have this conversation with you, again, “we don’t really have the liberty of saying no to him. A lot of tabloids would be up in no time if we decided to stop representing them which would lead to him surely making declarations against us and that wouldn’t surely end up being beneficial for us. We’re already a small firm, Mr. Kim being our client is a huge deal, most of our - including yours- income comes from his business.”

You sighed, about to reply that yes, you understand her point but maybe if you made public those documents that prove his corrupt ways, the whole scene could be different for the firm and you’d be able to turn the tables, but she beat you and added, “plus, he’s a whole snack, girl, why are you even complaining?”

Not even bothering to answer, you rolled your eyes and let out a groan, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your office. On your way there, you saw your boss, “Good morning, y/n,” he said with a smile, “please remember that Mr. Kim is coming later to discuss some things with you.”

The smile you previously had on your face faltered a little, surely you decided it was better to erase that from your mind and was hoping -in vain- that another thing would have come up so Namjoon couldn’t make it to the meeting. “Of course, Mr. Min, I already have prepared the files he asked me about and possible solutions.”

“Good, it’s wonderful to see how hard you work, y/n. Keep it like that, and you’ll make it big.” With that and another polite smile, Mr. Min walked away from you.

You sighed heavily and finally arrived at your office. It seems that these days the only thing you do is sigh and feel frustrated. Of course, you knew that being a lawyer in a firm meant that you won’t always be working for people you like but you didn’t think that it would entail working with a corrupt businessman without any chance of exposing him or just putting a halt to your contract with him. You knew the risks of doing that, of course, and that it would most likely mean you being fired alongside all your co-workers and put on a blacklist for all the other law firms to know that you weren’t trustworthy. However, that didn’t shake the guiltiness and rage you felt when thinking about how hard you have worked all your life to get where you are now just to risk it all for an asshole that was incompetent enough to do dangerous deals with people he shouldn’t.

You were wrong, though, Namjoon wasn’t an incompetent, quite the contrary actually. He was a very clever man indeed, knowing that having a law firm by his side would most likely help him cover his back in case something was to happen, especially if said firm is small and he is the main source of income.

“Mr. Kim is here” said the receptionist through the phone.

“Okay, send him up here.”

You collected your thoughts and breathed deep, praying you won’t snap at him like it had happened some other times before. It wasn’t just that you didn’t like the way he was managing his company but his personality and overall aura… you didn’t like it, not one bit. No matter how handsome and attractive he was.

A knock was heard in your office, followed by a voice “It’s Kim Namjoon, Mrs. y/s, may I come in?”

You arched your brow looking at him through the glass windows your office had, seeing his dimples showing because of the smile he had on his face.

“You may, Mr. Kim” you spoke in a monotonous voice, focusing again on the screen of your computer.

Namjoon’s smile turned to be more amused seeing your reaction, the one as always: trying your best not to look at him. He opened the door and walked in, closing it after him and taking a seat in a chair in front of your desk, not waiting for you to ask him to do it. You probably wouldn’t, anyways.

Of course, he knew the animosity you felt towards him and while at first that made him a little miserable and he almost lost his mind, with time he started finding it more amusing than anything and viewed it as a challenge to finally get on your good side. Naturally, the desire of taking you with him to keep you in his house was always at the back of his mind and he knew that sooner or later he would have to resort to that if he wanted you to be finally his, which of course he did. Until that moment, though, he would enjoy you being feisty towards him, it was amusing and kind of endearing seeing you struggling and fighting against yourself to not give in.

“How are you feeling on this beautiful day, Mrs. y/s?” Namjoon asked with a grin, if you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s actually interested in your answer.

He’s so hot, y/n! And the fact that he’s going against the law and with your help at that, only succeeds at making the situation even hotter.

That’s the message your friend sent you merely minutes ago, probably when she saw Namjoon was on his way to your office. Message you, of course, decided to ignore.

“It’s been good so far but I’m afraid that a big black cloud has just appeared to ruin it” you answered with a fake smile and felt pride at seeing how his smile faltered. You almost felt bad if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a criminal.

Namjoon cleared his throat, clearly ready to say one of the numerous flirty lines he’s been trying to use on you since the very beginning, but you were faster than him and asked about what it was that he needed help with this time.

“Ah, you see, there’s this huge deal I’m about to sign in two days so I thought that it would be a good idea for us both to go through the contract together and also, I wanted you to redact a confidential agreement.” You hated the way in which he said it, like if everything were okay, as if it was just a normal deal and there was nothing fishy about it. You also hated knowing that he could very much do this with his own men -it wouldn’t be the first time- but still decided to come here to torment you.

That was how time passed: you both going through the contract, making sure everything was in order -or as in order as it could considering there were definitely some fishy things that needed to be disguised or be described in a very vaguely-, you trying to dodge every attempt from Namjoon part at flirting with you and him finding it both amusing and adorable.

You danced in your interior once everything was done and it was finally time for him to leave, looking into your watch you realised it was almost time for you to go home as well and mentally sighed in relief. You got over another day.

“If that was all, Mr. Kim, you’re free to go now,” you said with a tired smile that Namjoon noticed didn’t reach your eyes. He so desperately wanted to make you smile for real, be the one on the receiving end of the cheerfulness he knew you had in you; he’d make sure he was the only one getting it one day. “I’ll send you the confidential agreement tomorrow before lunchtime so you can go through it in case there is something else that needs to be changed for the day of the signing.”

“Just one more thing, miss” he said, getting up from the chair he occupied for almost two hours in your office, “I think it’ll be better if you came to me with the agreement in person instead of just sending it to me.” Namjoon saw the protest and confusion on your face and before you could give him a negative, he talked again “there had been several attempts these past few weeks at hacking my accounts as well as the one of my other employers so I’d prefer it if the agreement could me better in my hands rather than on my email. We’re working on it, but until I’m sure there would be no possibility for a cyber-attack...an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure”

As much as you wanted to say, ‘fuck no, not in a million years I’m going to see you more than was needed’, you obviously couldn’t, and there was no good reason for you to deny his request.

“Sure, I understand it. I’ll be there tomorrow.” Your answer came more tense than you wanted to, but you wanted Namjoon to know of your discomfort at the premise of having to spend more time with him.

“I’ll send a car for you, darling, there’s no need for you to go anywhere.”

With that and a wink, Namjoon abandoned your office, leaving you there hanging, you wanted to refute that there is no need for him to send a car for you, that you can very happily go on your own and have a car that works very well but, of course, he always has to have the last words. You rolled your eyes and groaned, touching the bridge of your nose. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

As Namjoon said, a car was sent your way to the law firm you worked at to take you to his office, or at least that was where you supposed you were going to meet him. But upon seeing the car taking a completely different direction from where it should go, your uneasiness started growing.

“Excuse me,” you called for the attention of the chauffeur, “aren’t we going to Mr. Kim’s office?”

“No, Ms. y/s, I was told to take you to Mr. Kim’s place of residence.”

That fucker, you muttered under your breath. Once you arrived, you couldn’t help but gawk at Namjoon’s place of residence. You were expecting it to be huge and over the top, that’s the kind of house that Namjoon required to have considering the way he carried himself, but this was something else. A whole family could live here, and they wouldn’t even have to see each other if they didn’t want to -and you were referring to a family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and kids.

The chauffeur opened the door of the car for you and was the one leading the way into Namjoon’s mansion as well. The interior was even more dazzling if that was possible: it was decorated in a minimalistic and modern way but there was a hint of old fashioned in some of the furniture. It was exquisite. You were guided all through the mansion until you arrived at the front of two huge mahogany doors, the chauffeur -you felt bad you didn’t ask for his name, he seemed nice- knocked on one of them and from the other side you could hear Namjoon’s voice ordering whoever was at the other side to come in, immediately he opened the door and made you a gesture with his hands for you to go in. You nodded your head and muttered a ‘thank you’ before entering the room. The door closed right behind you.

Namjoon looked up from his computer and a smile quickly found its way to his face upon seeing you right there in the middle of his office. He got up from his chair and moved around his massive table. “Y/n, it’s a pleasure to see you, please come and take a seat,” you did as tell and came near him, smiling slightly when Namjoon moved the chair so you could sit, “I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused you with coming all the way here, some problems came up this morning and I wasn’t able to make it to my building.”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Kim?” You asked more out of courtesy than because you were actually concerned or interested in what his answer would be.

“Nothing you have to worry about, darling,” the paternalistic tone he used made you almost roll your eyes even if you were secretly grateful, he didn’t bother you with the problems of his corrupt business, “since it’s almost lunchtime, I asked my service to bring us the meal here later so we can eat together.”

“There was no need for that, Mr. Kim, I won’t be here much, you’re just required to go through the agreement and then I’ll be on my way to work again.”

Namjoon only hummed and went back to his chair in front of you. Without any further distractions you both proceeded to went through the document and, right as you stated, it didn’t take much time and since Namjoon didn’t really have any objections, you wrapped it up in no more than an hour but, much to your dismay, by that time the food has already been brought up to his office and you didn’t have it in you to deny it when it looked and smelled as delicious as it did.

“Please, try it,” Namjoon encouraged you, both of you have moved to one of the sofas on his office, and he took advantage of it and was now right next to you, “I didn’t know what you enjoy, so tell me if you don’t like this and I’ll ask for the chefs to make you something different.”

Now, that was a lie, Namjoon already knew everything there was to know about you, having made an exhaustive study of your life himself two days after seeing you for the first time; he knew the name of all your relatives, how many times you’d moved, the college you attended, the marks you got, hell, he even knew the name of all your ex-boyfriends and friends that were no longer in your life. You were fascinating to him, and he couldn't wait until he could uncover every single secret you kept to yourself.

“This looks amazing, I’m sure it’ll taste just the same” you said almost salivating, it’s been a long time since you last ate a proper home cooked meal. You could feel the intense gaze of Namjoon on you while you took the fork on your mouth and swallowed the food, you couldn’t help but make a sound of satisfaction at the taste and it was only in that moment that he averted his eyes from you at the sight, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the wine that was brought alongside the meal. “This is amazing! Thank you so much, Namjoon.”

You didn’t even notice you called him by his name or the real smile that was on your face and directed at him. But he did, and he could feel his heart galloping in his chest like crazy, feeling already addicted to hearing his name rolling on your tone without an annoyed tone to it and being on the receiving end of your more than beautiful smile.

You both kept eating and eventually started talking about everything and anything. It surprised you how you found yourself having a good time and enjoying Namjoon’s company more than what you thought you’d ever do. He was still an asshole in your eyes, and you didn’t like not one bit the way he made business, but you couldn’t deny that he gave you an interesting conversation and was funny even when he wasn’t trying to. Eventually though, you started to feel more and more dizzy, and a migraine was starting to form in your head.

“Is everything okay, darling? You’re getting paler by the second” you heard Namjoon voiced next to you, he sounded concerned and was closer to you than a minute before, one of his hands almost resting on your knee.

“Yeah...no, do you happen to have any pills? My head is starting to kill me…” your voice sounded estranged even to yourself and the strength was quickly leaving your body.

Before you could try to fight it, darkness consumed your every sense and the last thing you could feel or hear was Namjoon’s body pressed against yours and his smooth voice calling your name.

After twenty minutes or so, Namjoon finally decided that it was time to lead you to his room and rest your body on his bed. He’s been admiring your face, being this the first time, he has had the chance to do it from such a close distance, delighting himself in how perfect your body felt pressed to his and how from this day on, he’d be able to feel this way for the rest of his life.

He closed the door from his bedroom and locked it just in case, though he doubted you’ll wake up until tomorrow. On his way to the door, he made a call.

“What’s up, Namjoon?”

“I’m going there now, Yoongi. She’s already in my bed resting.”

Nothing more needed to be exchanged between the two men and Namjoon hung up right when he got into his car. Yoongi and Namjoon have been friends since they were both teenagers, having gone through a lot together. When Namjoon received an email with several photos of you he hadn’t order to take and a simple message saying, ‘we are keeping an eye on her too’, he knew he had to do something to keep you safe and it was actually Yoongi’s idea to lead you to Namjoon’s house, drug you and keep you there finally with him. They still had to figure out who the fuck had guessed Namjoon favoured you, but now that you were going to be safe by his side, he couldn’t help but smile silly all the way up to Yoongi’s building.

He knew he had a long way ahead of him until you fell in love with the same intensity, he had fallen for you, but he was sure you’d both get there and be the perfect couple he’d been dreaming of for so long.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Please please please, may i please request a prussia/reader drabble (oneshot?? what ever is easier for you honestly) for the prompt: “Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.”?? thank you so much and i love your writings <3

Hello, Lovely~ Wanted to thank you for your patience. Couldn't quite get the perfect scene in mind till about 1:14 am this morning. Hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request!

In a world that never seemed to rest, tranquility had become an elusive mistress, an antiquated ideal that was valuable for its rarity alone. There were many who would never find such a thing, or would be cursed with just a brief glimpse before it slipped away once more, never to return.

Tranquility was a gift, and you had been blessed in multitudes.

A light breeze was rustling the pines towering above you, scents of the nearby stream, forget-me-nots, and the wisps of smoke from the campfire dancing with it.

So tucked away from everything, you couldn't hear any engines, noisy neighbors, or- most fortunately- the impatient pings from your cell demanding your attention. 

It was quiet, as quiet as Nature could be when one is sitting near a babbling brook, their swing squeaking on hinges decades older than themselves, birds of all ages serenading the small patches of sunlight reaching the forest floor.

Your foot trailed along the ground beneath you, a path carving in the soil from the steady back-and-forth of the old wooden swing, your head resting comfortably against Gil's chest.

He had one arm loosely draped on the back of the swing, the other extended as he read his paperback, folded over itself to spare himself a little freedom.

You shifted slightly, just a little, and he instinctively followed, adjusting the blanket across your legs and shifting his own to accommodate your new position, all without once removing his attention from the page.

It was approaching midday, and while you had both agreed on a short hike to visit some waterfall or other, you were finding you had no desire to leave just yet, perfectly content and cozy as you were.

You let yourself relax further, eyes closing as you rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady refrain of his heartbeat. 

The familiar, unconscious dance of fingers against your upper arm made you smile, his decision to shift his free arm almost as reflexive as your decision to open your palm and rest it directly over his heart.

In a time not so long ago, the very thought of being alone in the same room as him would have been laughable, and now you were alone together in some ancient hunting cabin, leagues away from civilization, and completely at peace.

It struck you in that moment just how ingrained he was into your life, your sphere, your thoughts. You never could have anticipated this level of intimacy, and the unexpected epiphany of just how vulnerable that made you left you reeling.

"It kind of scares me sometimes," the words slipped out in a sigh, a wisp of a murmur that faded as easily as woodsmoke. They hadn't even been loud enough to disturb a trio of hares near the truck, and when several moments passed, you were beginning to hope Gil hadn't heard them at all.

It was more a rumbling than a fully coherent query that finally answered you, his eyes still firmly affixed to the Greek text before him. "What's that?"

Without fully lifting your head, you shifted your angle, giving you the chance to study his features- the small indents on his nose from wearing his glasses so much the past week, the single, nearly invisible freckle just by his left eye, the patch of chapped skin on his lower lip, the intoxicating and inexplicable gradients of indigoes and crimsons in his irises.

He hid nothing from you, every perceived flaw and weakness completely at your mercy. And to know that he could see through all of your own barriers, knew you in-and-out more than you perhaps knew yourself-

But there was trust there, and something so strong that- even years after first naming it, after first defining it, exploring it, embracing it- still left you breathless, still rendered you speechless.

For a moment, it did exactly that, overwhelming you in a wave of emotion so strong that you could scarcely think in the face of it. 

But it was a familiar feeling, one so commonplace that you simply sighed again, letting it settle over you like an additional blanket, warmth settling in your veins as you relaxed once more.

"It scares me sometimes how in love I am with you." You traced a pattern with your finger against his shirt, eyes focused on the lupine family enjoying vegetable scraps from the night before. "It scares me how vulnerable you make me feel."

But no. Scared wouldn't be quite the right word for how this vulnerability made you feel. Intimidated, perhaps? 

Irregardless, it was such a good feeling, so freeing to be so fully exposed to someone, to know they saw the worst of you and still-

He was resting his head against your own, silence patiently resting between you, the quiet of the forest yet again remaining undisturbed. He had even ceased powering the swing, apart from a small movement with his toes that was likely from his muscle spasms than anything else. You let yourself relax fully, because no matter how suddenly and aggressively this wave of realization had swept you away in its riptide, he would always keep you safe, always anchor you in the face of whatever storms may come.

"You know it's a two-way street, right?"

As if further testament to his knowing you, the words went straight to the core of it all, exposing his own vulnerability to you, proving just how much he had placed his faith in you.

What a perilous place to be, putting so much faith and trust and hope and care and control in someone else's hands, wholeheartedly believing that they will never bring you any harm, that-

"You're not going to leave me, right?"

The question was so sudden, so unexpected, that you took yourself by surprise, not accounting for the deep, tired exhale of the man so gently holding you. "How could you even ask that?"

You started to try taking it back, wishing for all the world you could keep your thoughts more thoroughly reined in, but he was plowing ahead, the arm that had been resting on the swing coming around you, fingers slipping in between your own. "Do you really think I could leave you?"

By all accounts, yes. Yes he could. 

His claim to immortality was shaky at best, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't get bored of you, that someone pushing near 1,000 would wake up one morning and realise that-

"Where the Hell is all of this coming from anyway?"

You gave it a half a moment of thought, and soon found yourself melting in defeat. "I wish I had an answer, but I honestly have no idea."

He resumed his earlier motion, putting the swing back into a steady glide. When he spoke again, it was as if he were reaching across centuries, finding just the right words out of billions to try to comfort you. "To quote some book I read in some teahouse somewhere quite a long ass time ago: 'Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own.'" Here he paused, a good six seconds of silence as he rooted himself once more to the present, voice lowering to a whisper. "Leaving you? Losing you? It would be like losing a part of myself, like losing the best parts of myself."

He paused again, a seriousness that was only just familiar to you making an appearance, a depth to his words that made your toes curl. "I was lost for centuries, Schatz, never realizing or accepting just how alone I was, how fucked up I was. I waited for you for ages, and didn't even know how badly I needed you until I finally met you. It was like everything I had done, everything I had gone through, suddenly made sense. You were- are- the very thing I was fighting so hard for."

For claiming to have not a hint of romance in him, he still always seemed to have the perfect strategy for disarming you, for charming you, for leaving you even more infatuated with him than you were mere minutes before.

But this pedestal that he had carved for you, these expectations- 

"I'm only human, Gil."

"I know," he murmured.

"I could still get sick-"

"I know," he sighed.

"Or hurt-"

"I know," he growled.

"Or di-"

"I know!"

His exasperation was so unexpected that you swore the whole world had frozen around you, as if the tranquility of the forest had finally been disturbed. 

But no- 

Everything was still exactly as should be; it was only your surprise that had affected your perception. 

In actuality, his interjection had been scarcely more than a rasp, so damaging to you alone as it cut straight through to your soul, piercing through what little armor you still had against him.

He squeezed your hand, an apology conveyed simply through touch, an armistice accepted and strengthened through reciprocation. "'Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own,'" came the quiet refrain, each syllable accented through the dance of his thumb against your palm, each syllable a soft breath that tickled your scalp. You expected him to stop there, his point well made, but soon enough he was murmuring again, words nearly a hum. "'In pain and sickness they would still be dear.'"

You couldn't place the words- who knew if a copy of that book even existed anymore- but it didn't matter. They were exactly what you had needed, the balm for a restiveness that you hadn't even known was plaguing you till a few moments ago. And what's more, you never knew Gilbert to exaggerate, not when it came to matters of the heart. He knew no other option than complete sincerity, maddening some days, endearing most others.

Thoughts shifting, comfort once more reestablished, you shifted slightly, turning your attention to the few clouds you could see through the canopy. "Every atom, huh?"

There was a huff of a laugh, an accentuated exhale that highlighted his exasperation, but the amusement in his reply was tempered by fondness, highlighted with a small kiss above your ear. "Every proton, neutron, electron... Every single quark, if you need me to get technical," he finished in a whisper, slowly, gently, reassuringly, practically an embrace on its own.

You melted against him, giving his hand a small squeeze of gratitude, thoroughly reminded now of exactly why it was okay to share your vulnerabilities, how lucky you were to have found him, to be found, to trust and fall and grow together.

Tranquility eventually, quietly, made her reappearance, bringing with her the blessing of the midday sun.

Thanks for reading!

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 1/57, 97.7k words

Next

I was like “hey brain I’d love to do a shitpost social media au” and then it was like r e w r i t e m i r a c u l o u s

I don’t even know if it really even counts as miraculous anymore so much has changed god damn it --

Rena Rouge had never been so excited for anything in her life.

Of course, at first glance people would find that insane. She was going to a meeting, after all.

But it was the people that were also attending that had her practically vibrating she was so excited.

All the heroes of Paris were to be gathered under Master Fu’s orders. They hardly ever worked together, so having all four (five, including her, she reminded herself) together was pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime event. She wished she was still a reporter, this was the kind of thing she would have killed to report on back in the day…

Still, a part of her had to wonder why exactly they were all there. Master Fu had been vague when he’d called. She had some theories, of course, but all this waiting was starting to shift her excitement into nerves. She attempted to smooth out her tail, but ended up just tucking it under herself to hide her anxiety. Maybe she shouldn’t have come so early.

The first person to show up after her was Carapace. He’d poked his head through the door, the hood of his sleeveless hoodie pulled so low over his face that it partially hid his face. Then he broke into a wide smile and pushed the hood up a little to show the green glint of his mask. He made his way inside and took a seat next to her.

“Salu -- Bonjour!” His confident smile melted into an uncomfortable one. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Salut,” she said, not wanting him to feel awkward.

Besides, that was kind of his whole shtick. Carapace was the relatable hero, the one you could vent about your problems to.

(Well, technically you could vent to all of Paris’s heroes, they didn’t mind… but Carapace was the only one that felt close enough to actually try it with.)

Silence lapsed between them as they sat there. She tried to remember whether she had met him as Rena Rouge or not and he seemed unsure whether she wanted to talk, but they were distracted from their thoughts when Chloe walked into the room.

Chloe just kind of… does that. If Carapace was the personable one, Chloe was the one who felt the most unreachable. She was open about her persona, had to be after everyone found out about it, and exactly how relatable can a mayor’s daughter be? She’d leaned into it, though, opting for golden jewelry and wings that glinted in the light.

Neither of the present heroes said anything to Chloe, and Chloe didn’t acknowledge them.

Was it rude? Technically. But what else were they supposed to do? Chloe had made it clear a week ago that she didn’t like them. There’s no good conversation that can come after you get shit-talked on live tv.

The last person to be on time was Chat Noir. The original hero. He gave them a smile worthy of a model as he slipped inside. “Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” said Rena and Carapace, and even Chloe gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

The leather of his black suit made a high-pitched squeaking sound against the chair when he sat down that made both him and Rena’s hair stand on end (literally).

Master Fu walked in to find Carapace trying to soothe two very frazzled miraculous holders and Chloe ignoring them on her phone.

He sighed and gently rapped his cane on the ground.

Instantly, the room quieted. Chat and Rena snapped out of their shock.

“Bonjour,” chorused everyone.

He smiled tensely. “Bonjour. Where’s Ladybug?”

“Not here yet,” said Chloe. She set her phone down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing in the papers, either.”

Master Fu nodded a little bit and took a seat at the head of the table. “We can wait for her. There’s no rush.”

Carapace hesitated before raising his hand. “There’s… a bit of a rush. I was procrastinating a college app and it’s due tonight…”

“It shouldn’t be long,” said Master Fu.

This was true. About five minutes later Ladybug burst into the room, panting softly. “Bon… jour...”

“Thanks for finally showing up,” said Chloe.

No one knew for sure, because Ladybug’s eyes were completely white, but they got the feeling that she was rolling her eyes.

“There was an akuma.”

“Really? There was nothing on the news…” said Rena, genuinely confused, but she trailed off when she realized that maybe getting one of your childhood heroes in trouble was a bad idea if you wanted to have a good relationship with said childhood hero.

Thankfully, Ladybug didn’t seem all that annoyed. “That’s because the news anchor and her crew got swallowed by it before they could get any information out. Anyways, it’s dealt with.”

With that, Ladybug took a seat in the last open chair. There was a beat as she smoothed out the red and black folds of her dress and then she crossed her legs and smiled at everyone.

Master Fu sighed and shook his head, slowly placing his cane in his lap.

“Now that everyone is here, would anyone like to guess why?”

The heroes of Paris stiffened a little bit. That sounded a lot like they were in trouble. They didn’t want to be in trouble.

Rena slowly raised her hand. “Is it… because of what Queen Bee said last week?”

The heroes’ expressions soured a bit at the memory. The video of Chloe trash talking all of them to an interviewer had blown up, and now they could hardly do anything without having at least one reporter hounding them for a response.

None of them could give any, though Rena was sure at least some of them were tempted. The public was supposed to think them all friends, or at worst friendly coworkers. It gave them hope, seeing them all working together for team ups, and analyzing their friendship dynamics kept them relatively distracted from the fact that it had been six years since the first hero had first arrived on the scene and they still had virtually nothing on Hawkmoth.

But now that illusion had been shattered (and trust her, she knew a lot about illusions). Akumas had been more active this week.

“That’s precisely it. Thank you, Rena.” Master Fu regarded them all carefully. “What do you think we should do about it?”

Really, they’d had no clue what to do about their image.

Chloe hadn’t been joking, she’d made that plainly obvious, so saying she didn’t mean it or that was just the type of friendship they had wasn’t going to work…

“Act more like friends…?” Said Ladybug when no one spoke up.

Master Fu nodded.

“Oh, so more team ups or something?” Said Chat.

Carapace shrugged. “Don’t know how much of that I can do, since I’m the only one that can consistently get in the water, but…” He shrugged again. “... sure, I can do that.”

The old man drummed his fingers on the table lightly to bring their attention back to him.

“Yes, that, too, but I was thinking something more… convincing.”

Rena decided that she definitely didn’t like the way his eyes gleamed.

“So, until you manage to defeat Hawkmoth, you will all be living together.”

Everyone opened their mouths to argue but he held up a hand to silence them.

“And you’ll be doing it publicly, posting regular content about it to a social media platform of your choosing…”  He put his hand down. “Now you can complain.”

The teens all immediately started attempting to talk over each other, their voices steadily increasing in volume as they tried to be the one to get their complaints heard.

Rena was silent. Part of her thought that she should be complaining. She had siblings, after all, she had a life outside of heroism… but she couldn’t help but smile. She would be living with her childhood heroes (for a long time, probably, because the Hawkmoth situation was not getting better)! And, really, her sisters could get annoying at times. She’d love an excuse to get away.

So instead of arguing she leaned back in her chair and watched everyone else.

Chloe was the most passionate about it, her jewelry flashing with every wild swing of her hand. Her voice was the loudest, but with the other voices in the room and the fact that she was literally buzzing in her anger it was hard to make out what she was saying.

Chat seemed distressed and Rena could see his mouth saying “I don’t think I’d be allowed to” repeatedly even if she couldn’t hear him over Chloe’s screeching.

Carapace’s face was set in an uncharacteristic frown as he complained. Sure, of those voicing their complaints, he definitely seemed the most relaxed, but the fact that he was frowning was in itself proof of just how upset he really was.

Ladybug was quiet, though she didn’t look particularly happy about it. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as if she was holding herself back from yelling as well and her fingers worried at the hem of her dress.

After a minute of this, Master Fu raised his hands for silence and instantly got it once again.

“Are you done?”

The general consensus was ‘no’, if the looks on their faces meant anything, but they nodded anyways.

“Good. Chat Noir, I’ve already worked everything out with your dad, we’ll discuss it more after the meeting is over.”

Chat relaxed a bit.

“Carapace, your schooling will not be affected. In fact, you’ll likely have a better college experience since all your food and toiletries will be paid for by me.”

Carapace’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he considered this.

“Queen Bee, must I remind you of the fact that you’re on thin ice as it is?”

Everyone’s eyes shot to Chloe, who had paled considerably. Her angry buzzing quickly lowered to a dull hum and she settled back into her seat.

Master Fu seemed sated by this, and he looked at Ladybug and Rena.

“And I’m assuming I don’t need to convince either of you?”

Rena shook her head instantly. Ladybug took her time to consider, but eventually shook her head as well.

“Great. Now, shall we talk logistics?”

~~~

Taglist:

@nathleigh @mialuvscats

[bevioletskies]

the first time (ever i saw your face)

summary: On their six-month anniversary, Apollo and Klavier decide to pose a seemingly harmless question: what did they think of each other when they first met? As it turns out, the topic is a little more complicated than they originally thought.

word count: 4.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day one of seven (prompt: "firsts"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings. Mild spoiler warning for the end of Apollo Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol. Fic title is from the song The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Roberta Flack.

“...why does this look like something out of a direct-to-streaming movie adaptation of a YA novel that has a three-star average rating on Goodreads?”

“If you’re trying to say you don’t like it, baby, you could just say so.”

“No, no, I - I’m actually kinda into it. It’s like we’ve walked onto the set of a staged proposal, though if you ask me to marry you right now, I will start laughing.”

Klavier sighed. “I’m starting to think the phrase ‘romance is dead’ was invented specifically for you.” Nevertheless, he tugged gently on Apollo’s hand. “Come on, liebe, I got our favorite snacks, I queued our favorite movies...and before you ask, nein, there is no engagement ring, so stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m not...totally opposed to getting married, you know,” Apollo added as he followed Klavier. “It’s just...it’s a little early for me. This is only our six-month anniversary, after all.”

“Fair enough,” Klavier hummed, the two of them settling down in their spots. He’d learned long ago that Apollo wasn’t one for flashy, photo op-worthy dates, that he preferred more intimate, low-key settings. And so, for their six-month anniversary, Klavier had taken them to his family estate. He had cleared out the conservatory overlooking the garden of all its furniture, filling it with blankets and pillows, drapes and string lights, and a projector whose screen covered the entire back wall. It reminded Apollo of what he himself had done for their three-month anniversary - because apparently, he was that kind of person now - when he’d planned a weekend’s stay in a cozy lakeside cabin. “A conversation for another time, ja?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Apollo draped one of the blankets over his and Klavier’s laps, then lowered his head to rest on Klavier’s shoulder. Smiling, Klavier turned to briefly kiss Apollo’s temples, then reached for his laptop so he could start the movie. They spent the first fifteen or so minutes in companionable silence, sharing a bag of popcorn and a bottle of wine while they watched, until Apollo eventually spoke again. “...weird, isn’t it?”

“The movie? Not particularly,” Klavier shrugged. “If anything, I’d say the plot twist is a bit predictable.”

“No, not the movie. I mean...this.” Apollo gestured aimlessly. “You and me. Us.”

Klavier’s expression darkened somewhat. “Are you...having doubts about our relationship, Apollo?”

“Wh - no, no, not at all!” Apollo protested, sitting up. “It’s just...I guess it’s mostly weird for me. Like, if someone told me, say, a couple years ago, that I was gonna be in a relationship with you, of all people...hell, can you imagine if someone told me that on the day we met? I-I wouldn’t believe it!”

“You weren’t shy about your distaste for me, true,” Klavier agreed, his slight frown relaxing into an amused smile.

“I don’t think that’s an...entirely accurate assessment of, uh, of how I felt,” Apollo said carefully.

Now it was Klavier’s turn to straighten up, looking at him curiously. “Really?” he asked. “Then what did you think of me when we first met?”

“You first,” Apollo retorted, seemingly on instinct. He then softened. “I mean, only if you want to. I’m kinda curious.”

“I don’t mind,” Klavier reassured him, setting down his wine glass so he could squeeze Apollo’s hand. He hesitated, thinking it over. “...I expected to hate you from the very beginning, to be perfectly honest. And, for a moment there...I did.”

Apollo’s eyes widened. “Wh...what?”

“‘Disgraced Defense Attorney Dismantled By His Disciple’, I believe the headline was,” Klavier continued. He then smiled wryly. “A bit dramatic, if you ask me. But then again, I’m not a big fan of alliteration, so I might just be biased.”

“Did you really hate me?” Apollo’s shout had dropped to a mere whisper. “Because...because you didn’t wanna believe it, did you? About…what had happened. What he’d done.”

“It wasn’t all bad memories, all the time, you know.” Klavier gently released Apollo’s hand so he could brush his hair out of his eyes, though he kept his head ducked low. “We had our moments, him and I. We weren’t close, but...we weren’t estranged, either. In fact, I...I first heard your name from him, not from the papers.”

“He told you about me.” It wasn’t a question. “I guess I should’ve suspected, but I never really knew what your relationship was like...before. I mean, he never once mentioned having a brother, so I kinda assumed…”

“As everyone does,” Klavier shrugged, far too casually for Apollo’s liking. “Anyway, your question was about you and me, not me and him, ja? He told me all the usual things people have to say about you - loud, eager to please, a little bit sensitive. I didn’t think much of it at the time, other than the fact you had a strange name.”

Apollo rolled his eyes, sinking back into the cushions. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Glad to know I made a great first impression.”

“And then when the headlines came along...and Mama and Papa called…” Klavier’s face darkened once more; he cleared his throat. “I looked you up. I hadn’t bothered when I first heard your name, but I had to know. Still, I...I found almost nothing. No photos, no social accounts...nichts. Just a single line on a college graduate roster and the same articles I’d been reading before.”

“...I see.” Apollo fiddled with the ends of his blanket, just so he would have something to do with his hands. “So, when we finally met in person…”

_____

The first thing Klavier noticed was Apollo’s eyes - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, though in the sunlight, more akin to the color of honey. Those eyes of Apollo’s, curious and maybe a little bit accusatory, narrowed right at him as he arrived at the entrance of People Park. He internally winced at the sight of Apollo’s companion, who was arguing with the police officer standing guard at the scene. Despite the time that had passed since he last saw her, he could never forget Trucy Enigmar-now-Wright.

Are you working for Phoenix Wright now? Klavier wanted to ask as he approached them. Why? Don’t you know what he’s done? Don’t you see what he’s become?

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” he said instead, leaning forward to smile somewhat condescendingly at them. Klavier was momentarily struck by how similar they were - how their hair was the exact same shade of brown, how the dusting of freckles across their identically shaped noses matched too perfectly, how their furrowed brows and perplexed frowns were one and the same. The only difference was their eyes, hers more the color of a stormy sea. Perhaps there’s a song lyric there? Klavier mused to himself. Ach, now is not the time.

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said disbelievingly, his eyes now widening. His arms, previously crossed tightly against his chest, fell to his sides. The motion caught Klavier’s eye, drawing his attention to the glint of the golden bracelet sitting on Apollo’s left wrist. He wondered if there was some sort of significance to it, what with the way Apollo clutched it tightly with his right hand.

“Ah, fräulein,” Klavier continued, his eyes flickering back upwards. He wondered if she knew him, if she recognized him at all. Clearly, Apollo had no idea who he was; he wasn’t sure how to feel about that just yet. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?”

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy complained, huffing. She brandished an envelope in Klavier’s face, nearly swatting him on the nose as she did. He flinched slightly, surprised by how brazen she was. “We even have a letter of request!”

Klavier’s smile softened into one that was a little more genuine. He couldn’t help but be instantly charmed by her. “You must be exhausted, standing out here. I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, brightening. Apollo looked skeptical in comparison, his intense gaze traversing the length of Klavier’s body. Usually, he would have preened at the attention, been flattered by the obvious interest and maybe made a show of looking back, but he knew that wasn’t what Apollo was looking for. I am not him, Klavier thought fiercely. I am not the one you trusted, the one who taught you everything you know. I could never -

“By your leave, officer,” Klavier said with a nod and a wink. He barely heard the officer’s affirmation over his own thoughts. Then, he turned back to Trucy and tilted his head towards the park. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Trucy’s giggle was sweet, melodic, as she happily followed him through the entrance. He made a show of lifting the police tape for her to duck under, which she seemed easily amused by. Apollo, meanwhile, was left standing on the street, staring at them incredulously, before he finally seemed to register what was happening. “Hey! What about me?!” he cried. His voice gets raspier the louder he gets, Klavier couldn’t help but observe. Interesting.

Once Apollo had caught up, Klavier turned to grin at them both, teeth clenched beneath his lips. Trucy was rocking back and forth on her heels, beaming back, while Apollo had braced his hands on his hips indignantly, like he had something he wanted to say and was just waiting for the opportune moment to say it. Ach, those eyes, those hands, those freckles, Klavier thought rather stupidly. Wait - you’re not supposed to think he’s cute, Klavier, hör auf!

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” he remarked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the flash of a white lab coat further into the park that told him he needed to leave if he didn’t want to be reprimanded - or worse, Snackoo-ed.

“Thank you! Will we see you again?” Trucy asked, hopeful.

Klavier hesitated. Apollo still hadn’t said a thing about the obvious elephant in the room, still staring at Klavier like he was a ghost. He wanted Apollo to say something, anything, to ask questions, to start the conversation that he himself admittedly didn’t want to take responsibility for. But Apollo was clearly stunned into silence, and any courage Klavier had had when he first walked up to them moments ago was long gone.

“Ask the wind, fräulein. I'll be riding on it,” he said, shooting them one last saccharine smile. He could hear the click-click of Ema’s shoes against the cobblestone as she approached. With that, he turned and left, his chest aching in confusion.

_____

The silence was heavy, heavier than Apollo expected. Klavier had turned the movie volume down long ago, leaving them with nothing but the sound of their own quiet breaths. “Makes sense,” Apollo finally said, shooting Klavier a sympathetic smile. “To you, I...I jumped ship from one corrupt defense attorney to another. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the time, right?”

“Part of me wanted to confront you right then and there, but I didn’t want to do it. Not in front of everyone, especially not in front of her. But the other part of me...I just wanted to learn more about you. To get to know you before I decided whether it was a battle worth fighting. Whether he was worth defending.” Klavier then smiled back; now it was his turn to drop his head onto Apollo’s shoulder. “Besides, you were cute, and I’m weak.”

“‘Were’, huh?” Apollo teased, nudging him. “Well, I’m glad Trucy’s presence, your curiosity, and my cuteness apparently deterred you enough to walk away. To think, what would you have done if you didn’t think I was cute - ”

“Achtung, you’re such an arschgeige sometimes,” Klavier groaned, laughing. “Anyway...I got my answer in court soon enough. I could trust you, and he...he wasn’t worth defending. Not one bit.”

“No, not at all,” Apollo agreed. “Still, I’m...I’m sorry, Klav. Not for what I did, I mean, I-I had to, but just...how it all played out. How messy things got. Whenever we, y’know, come here to see your parents, I still see that look in their eyes. It’s that face that you make when you think no one’s looking.” He swallowed. “Mr. Wright says Trucy does that, too. Less now that she’s got me and Mom, but…well.”

“It wasn’t you, Apollo, it was me. It all started with me believing he wouldn’t lie to me.” Klavier’s laughter was bitter now. “Anyway, I’m starting to think we’re all a little too observant for our own good. None of us can ever let things go, nein?”

“We’d be horrible lawyers if we could,” Apollo chuckled, rubbing Klavier’s arm reassuringly. “But fine, fine, I’ll stop psychoanalyzing you now. It’s my turn, anyway.”

“I want to hear this,” Klavier said, snuggling closer. “Lay it on me, baby. Tell me how you fell for me in two seconds flat.”

“I’m gonna lay into you in two seconds flat if you don’t let me talk,” Apollo said dryly, elbowing him again. “I, uh, I don’t think I remember it as clearly as you do, but…”

_____

“Excuse me, coming through.”

It was a voice, a smooth, musical voice, polite but firm, that caught Apollo’s attention first. He turned in its direction, confused by how familiar it felt, how similar it sounded to another voice he knew, but with a light, lilting cadence and a strangely affected accent whose origins he couldn’t quite place.

“Ah! It’s you! Mr. Gavin!”

Apollo’s eyes widened, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, then narrowed at the sight before him. Striding towards them with a swagger in his step was a man who, as far as Apollo could tell, was supposed to be behind bars. Only, his skin was a few shades darker, his hair a shade or two lighter, and he was wearing, for reasons Apollo couldn’t fathom, eyeliner and leather and chains instead of a neatly-pressed suit and wire-rimmed glasses. Who’s THIS guy? Apollo thought, his stomach turning.

“I must say I'm used to being inspected by the ladies...but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man,” the man said, leaning in close; his smile was a little wider than Apollo would have liked. Apollo also didn’t want to think about how pretty he was, how long his eyelashes were or how smooth his skin seemed to be. This can’t be him, Apollo decided, though he was still frozen in place. He could only vaguely feel Trucy’s fingers tugging gently on his shirt sleeve. No, it can’t be - it’s not - but who -

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said stupidly. He felt a phantom pinch on his left wrist; he released his arms from where they were crossed so he could rub the spot where it hurt, though the moment he touched it, he realized he hadn’t been in pain at all. The man’s eyes flickered down, following his fingers in curiosity, before moving back up to continue smiling beatifically at Trucy.

“Ah, fräulein,” he said; he was practically simpering now. “What is a sweet morsel like you doing in such a dismal place? Can I help?” Apollo barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course, he internally sighed, he’s one of those guys.

“Yes! The police man officer fellow here won't let us in!” Trucy whined, shoving the envelope in the man’s face. Apollo had to bite back a laugh at his startled expression, a contrast to his otherwise indifferent smile. “We even have a letter of request!”

“You must be exhausted, standing out here,” the man murmured sympathetically, eyes sparkling. He seemed intrigued, though Apollo couldn't blame him. He supposed he and Trucy looked like a completely mismatched pair. “I will take you to the scene of the crime.”

“Ooh! Really?” Trucy exclaimed, her entire face lighting up. Apollo tried not to smile himself; her energy was infectious. Then, the man’s words finally clicked in his mind. Wait - really?! But why would he - how can he - who is he?

“By your leave, officer,” the man ordered, winking. A pleasant shiver went down Apollo’s spine, one that he was trying his best to ignore. No good was going to come out of that train of thought, not when this man was clearly someone he needed to worry about - though in what way, he wasn’t sure yet. He seemed too generous, too open. Whether he was a police officer, a detective, or, god forbid, a prosecutor, Apollo didn’t trust him not to lead them astray, not one bit. “Very well. This way, fräulein.”

Before Apollo knew it, the man was walking away with Trucy in tow, leaving him behind. “Hey! What about me?!” he shouted, jogging after them. By the time he caught up, both of them were grinning at him amusedly, as if watching him trip over his own feet was some hysterical inside joke. Huffing, he braced his hands on his hips, ready to open his mouth and protest. The man’s gaze briefly travelled down to his hands once more. What’s that all about? Apollo wondered, confused. What’s he looking at? Is it my bracelet? It’s not that weird, is it? Wait, or can he tell that it’s -

“On that note, enjoy your investigation,” the man said, speaking a little quicker than he did before. He suddenly seemed distracted, like he couldn’t wait to get away from them.

“Thank you!” Trucy chirped, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Will we see you again?”

“Ask the wind, fräulein,” the man said, recovering. He seemed almost too focused on Trucy, like something about Apollo bothered him. Maybe he already knew who Apollo was, what Apollo had done. Was he angry? Resentful? Waiting for the right moment to strike? A shiver of a different kind tingled throughout Apollo’s body at the very thought; the phrase “kill them with kindness” was coming to mind. “I'll be riding on it.” He then left without another word, leaving Apollo to stare stupidly after him, his heartbeat in his throat.

“...who was that?” Apollo exclaimed, stunned, as if he wasn’t confused enough by everything else that was going on. His mind was racing with possibility, with anxiety that he really, really didn’t need. Before he could get into it, however, his jumbled thoughts were quickly cut off by Trucy’s surprised cry.

“Eek! Apollo, look - a c-corpse!”

_____

“...interesting,” Klavier said after a moment’s silence. “Did she really think the mannequin was a dead body?”

“Seriously, Klav?” Apollo groaned. “Surprised you didn’t fixate on the part where I thought you were pretty.”

“‘Were’?” Klavier echoed mockingly, grinning. His expression then sobered. “So...mixed feelings all around, it seems. I suppose it shouldn’t be all that shocking, though. We weren’t...total strangers, after all.”

“You practically were to me,” Apollo murmured, tangling his fingers in Klavier’s hair. Klavier leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment. “At least you knew I existed, while I...he never…” He then shook his head. “Y’know, I-I’m not sure if I really wanna think about this anymore. Not if it makes us think about him.”

“It’s not one of our happiest memories, nein,” Klavier agreed, humming. “I like where we are now...where we can trust each other. There’s little I hate more than ambiguity. And not knowing how I was supposed to feel about you…”

“Sucks, right?” Apollo let out a hollow laugh. “But at least we were on the same page, in a, uh, weird way. I guess that’s always been our thing. Even when you’re driving me up the wall in court - which is all the time, so don’t even question me, I see that look on your face - we’re, y’know, generally working towards the same goal.”

Klavier’s fingers danced along the length of Apollo’s forearm, tapping out a rhythm that Apollo couldn’t quite pick out. “I’d like to think so. I was never really sure until...ach, well. You remember.”

_____

Apollo was still trembling as he exited the courtroom with Trucy by his side. She was putting on a brave face for them both, but he had a feeling that she was more torn up about what had happened than he was. He wanted to comfort her, to reassure her somehow after they’d learned the truth behind her biological father’s death, but for once, he was completely speechless.

“Polly?” Trucy’s voice was tentative. “I’m...kinda hungry.”

“I...oh.” Apollo looked at her curiously. Out of all the things he’d expected her to say, that hadn’t been one of them. “Do you wanna get something to eat? We could go to Eldoon’s if you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” Trucy reassured him. Her face then lit up. “I was actually thinking about the courthouse café! We can get cake and drinks and stuff. A little sugar goes a long way!”

Apollo smiled softly. “Sure, Trucy. Whatever you’d like.”

And so, they found themselves a small table at the courthouse café - and maybe calling it that was rather generous on Trucy’s part - with two thick slices of Swiss rolls and tall glasses of milk tea. Admittedly, Apollo still felt numb, but Trucy’s running commentary of her thoughts on the trial kept him going. “Now all we need is for Vera to wake up,” Trucy said, gripping her fork with determination. “I’m still so worried about her! What if she doesn’t - ”

“We can’t think like that, okay?” Apollo said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “We gotta have hope. That’s all we can do, you know?”

“I guess,” Trucy murmured, chewing her bottom lip fretfully. She went quiet for a minute or so, poking at the last bits of her drink’s half-melted ice with her straw. “Hey, um...Daddy says he’s meeting up with a friend later today, and he wants to have dinner. And when he says ‘friend’, he usually means Mr. Edgeworth. You know, the prosecutor?”

“Yeah, I’ve definitely heard of him.” Apollo sat up a little straighter at the word ‘prosecutor’. In his stupor over the whole ordeal, he’d barely spared a thought for Klavier; he could only vaguely guess how he was doing. “What about him?”

“I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d wanna...join us?” Trucy suggested. He’d never seen her so hesitant before. “For dinner, I mean.”

“...oh.” Apollo paused. “No, uh - not today, sorry. I should really go home and sleep all of this - ” he gestured aimlessly “ - off. I feel like I need to sleep for, like, three days straight.”

“Sure, of course,” Trucy nodded, smiling faintly. “But….you’re still coming back to the agency, right? Maybe not tomorrow, but like...in a few days?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely,” Apollo promised, surprised by how quickly he’d responded. In all his hesitation, his doubts about law and what it was meant to be, what it could be, he was finally starting to feel like the Wright Anything Agency was where he belonged.

After they finished eating, he and Trucy parted ways after a long, much-needed hug on the courthouse steps. Apollo then went to fetch his bike from the rack adjacent to the courthouse parking lot, only to spot a familiar face lingering nearby, seemingly in no rush to leave.

“...Gavin?” Apollo said carefully.

Klavier turned sharply at the sound of Apollo’s voice. His smile was a touch too wide, his eyes suspiciously glossy. “Ah, Herr Forehead,” he greeted, ducking his head; his voice sounded trapped in his own throat. “Good show in there, as always. You never fail to impress.”

“Thanks. Hey, um - I’m surprised to see you’re still here,” Apollo commented, taking a few tentative steps closer. “Don’t you have somewhere...better to be?”

“Not really, nein.” Klavier let out a short, forced laugh. “I have paperwork to do, I’m sure. But it can wait.”

“...right.” Apollo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks, by the way.”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung? What for?”

“For agreeing to summon your brother, and...y’know, everything after that.” Apollo found himself oddly fascinated with a few stray pebbles on the ground, nudging them around with the toes of his loafers so he wouldn’t have to look at Klavier’s face. “Look, I-I’m not gonna pretend like I know what you, or Trucy, or Mr. Wright are going through. I’m mostly on the outside looking in, so. All I really know, if I know anything at all, is that, uh...we did the right thing. Yeah?”

“Ja.” When Apollo looked up, Klavier was also deliberately looking elsewhere, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. He’d displayed a whirlwind of emotions back in the courtroom, but none of them were quite the same as the bitter expression he was wearing right now. “...Apollo?”

Now it was Apollo’s turn to do double-take. “Huh? Wh-what is it?”

“Danke schön. For...everything. I honestly don’t think I could’ve done...any of that on my own,” Klavier confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “And I think I...I think I’m going to take a little time away from the prosecutor’s office. Not for long, mind you. Just...I need some time off. A week, maybe two. Some distance, some perspective...it would make a world of difference, achtung.” He then turned to face Apollo directly for the first time since they started talking. He looked tired, defeated, even. His posture, his expression - Apollo felt as if he was seeing an entirely different person standing before him.

Without thinking, Apollo took the last few steps forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Klavier and pulling him close. Klavier let out a startled noise; then, he hugged Apollo back, sinking his weight against Apollo’s, his forehead dropping to Apollo’s shoulder. His exhale was long, unsteady. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Apollo said, fingers digging into Klavier’s back, his face buried against Klavier’s bicep. “And if you ever wanna talk about it...I-I mean, I’m sure I’m not your first choice, but still. I’m, uh, I’m around.”

“Danke,” Klavier murmured, barely above a whisper. They stayed like that for a moment, maybe a moment too long, just holding each other in the middle of the courthouse parking lot for anyone and everyone to see. Klavier’s breath trembled against Apollo’s ear; Apollo half-expected his knees to give out from underneath him. Then, he slowly detached himself from Apollo’s grasp, carefully schooling his expression into something more Klavier-like, something brighter and blander, his teeth blindingly white in the mid-afternoon sun. “Anyway, I should really get going. That paperwork isn’t going to take care of itself, ja?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, don’t I know it,” Apollo said, letting out another strained chuckle.

“Until next time, then,” Klavier said smoothly, winking. “Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Forehead.” He didn’t wait for Apollo’s send-off, instead turning and heading over to his motorcycle, humming and twirling his keychain expertly between his practiced fingers. Apollo watched him peel out of the parking lot, silently wondering if he’d said all he wanted - no, needed - to say.

_____

“Of course I remember.” Apollo held Klavier just a little bit tighter. “But, y’know, again - not our best moment. Not by a long shot.”

Klavier lifted his head from Apollo’s shoulder so he could kiss him briefly, gently. Apollo smiled against Klavier’s lips, cupping his jaw so he could bring him closer. “But I’d still say our first kiss is more of a memory worth reminiscing over. Wouldn’t you agree, liebe?”

“It was a little dramatic for my taste,” Apollo teased, pulling back so he could affectionately nudge his nose against Klavier’s cheek, his fingers lightly pressed into Klavier’s sides. “But you’re into that sort of thing, so I’ll give it a pass. Still, let’s just agree not to cry all over each other ever again, okay? It was honestly kinda gross. And wet. And not in a fun way.”

“You’re saying you won’t cry when I propose?” Klavier asked, pouting exaggeratedly. “Because ach, I know I will.”

“Who says you’re proposing?” Apollo retorted, grinning as he prodded Klavier in the chest. “What if I get there first? What if, while you’re getting down on one knee, I just whip a ring box out of my pocket - ”

“Then I really will lose my scheisse,” Klavier murmured, his lips ghosting across Apollo’s skin. “I’m going to hold you to it, baby.”

“Can’t guarantee it’ll happen, but I’m definitely gonna try,” Apollo said, turning his head to capture Klavier’s lips once more. The two of them exchanged slow, lazy kisses for a few minutes, fingers loosely tangled in each other’s hair. In the background, the movie continued on, long forgotten; not that it mattered, seeing as they’d watched it together many times before.

Eventually, Klavier carefully detangled himself from Apollo. He passed him his wine glass, still half-full, then reached for his own and lifted it above his head. “To making new memories, ja?”

“Are we really cheers-ing ourselves? That’s pretty self-serving, literally,” Apollo said dubiously, though he still raised his glass all the same, amused by Klavier’s dramatics. “But hell, why not? To new memories that don’t involve us crying, sneezing, yelling - ”

“You make us sound like absolute disasters, achtung,” Klavier protested, chuckling. “We’re not that bad, are we?”

Apollo took a sip of his drink, then leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed against Klavier’s, his wine-stained, kiss-bitten lips stretched into a fond grin. “Nah. I think we’re doing just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my first entry for Klapollo Week 2021! I've never participated in any fandom challenges/events before, so I'm super excited to see how this goes. My plan is a little overambitious, with all seven fics set in the same continuity, but in a different order. For example, this fic is actually the last, chronologically speaking, while day seven's fic is set in the middle. If you're wondering why they were crying during their first kiss, you'll have to wait until then 😉

Don't worry about any of that, though, you don't need to read the others to follow along! Day seven is technically a sequel to day five, but it can be read as a stand-alone, though I think it packs more punch if you read it after day five. They're also the longest; every other fic averages out to about four to five thousand words, whereas five and seven are over ten thousand words each. Brevity is the soul of wit? Not in my Google Docs, I am wordy as hell.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️