#but i wrote chapter 1

[transanimegirl]

"But you never complained about wearing a girly skirt on stage"

"we didn't know we would have a season 2 or address this so give the writers some slack"

[jeeliebeeliegoomiebear]

On Isolde and Many Doors (and One Key)

Thinking about Isolde and how she feels like she is constantly trapped in a small cramped room full of 1 million doors. Each door represents a presence that haunts her, an identity that lives inside her that calls to her from beyond the grave, a new mask to dawn.

If every person in the world were to have a room, most would have just one door, their own. But not Isolde.

Isolde feels like an empty vessel who is only there to serve as a point of entry for other people and their spirits. She has been forced to become so repressed by her environment, upbringing, and her nature as a medium that she finds it easy to forget herself. Her “self” is not someone she has ever been allowed to know.

The room grows increasingly smaller, claustrophobic and strangling her with pressure as the amount of doorways in it only increase, every new person she meets a new doorway she is plagued with, a new voyeur who has granted themselves full access to her life and her body. Something she is now willing to let them do. It is easier that way. Easier to let someone else command her vessel, something that never solely belonged to her to begin with. An escape from all the pressure, the expectations, the perfection demanded from her. It is something she should do. The duty of someone like her. Something to hide her wretched face from view, to give the people what they want, to uphold her family’s legacy. A performance that was never allowed to end. Each new door lead right back to that.

The only exception is Kakania. The only person Isolde believes has ever really seen her as more than a host for other identities or something to mold into shape, prop up as a set piece. A perfect lady. The star of Vienna. A tragic heroine. A dangerous hysteric witch. A curse manifested. The only one who was ever interested in finding Isolde’s door and that door alone. When she is with Kakania, a new door does not appear in that ever shrinking empty room, although at first she expects it to. For the first time she meets someone and is not greeted with a new ghost to haunt her. Not a door. But a key. A key that Isolde knows can unlock her own door, even when she herself cannot find it.

[poppy-s-rampage]

Once a Hero.

Chapter 1: Too late!

Warnings: Blood, Gore and violence. You can't sue me now!

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Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!

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The Master of time leaned over the unmoving form of his young protegee, forceps needle and thread in hands. The old ghost deftly redid the stitches on the youngest torso. Slowly but surely closing the jagged ‘Y’ shaped wound shut.

‘How did it come to this?’

All it took was one minute of inattention for the young Halfa's timeline to be put in jeopardy. In a single moment of inattention, Daniel’s timeline tangled with another stray unstable one and merged. By the time Clockwork noticed, the timelines were already fused to the point of no return. Reality wrapped to fit the new Frankenstein series of events. So he did what he could, snip at some parts, and twist at others to make it so his protegee could have a chance of survival and still having a goodish timeline.

The gaping wound now finally shut, the old ghost went to treat the boy’s muzzle cuts and throat. The apparatus, when destroyed by the wail, had split open the right cheek’s flesh from the corner of the Halfas mouth, carving a morbid half smile. The boy’s tongue was bloody but could still be salvaged with diluted ectoplasm. The real problem was the throat; it was impossible to currently heal to a usable level with the concentration of ectoplasm he could safely use on Danny.

He was no Frostbite, but he was more than capable of putting back together the young ghost in a Time out. Daniel was too unstable to stay in the infinite realms, his core still too raw for pure Ecto. It would be like feeding a 10-year comatose patient a buffet after being kept alive via IV, transfer the concept to a fragilized and forcefully balanced core, and you get the idea.  It was also a way to better realize the consequences of his mistake. But not to apologize, nothing would ever be enough to fix what Daniel had endured.

Clockwork stopped believing in apologies an eternity ago.

It all had happened so fast, Phantom had no chance of changing the course of events. Ironically, the current timeline was the best possible outcome after the incident.

While his protegee’s original timeline’s parents would have been accepting of his heritage, the ones of the intruding unstable timeline were not. ‘Monsters’ would have been too kind of a word to describe them. Curiosity plagued individuals who could have given Dan a run for his money. The origin of a world’s collapse, the cause of too many deaths, terrifying geniuses with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and slaves of their obsessions. Even their children didn’t hold enough value for them to spare.

Thankfully, this world didn’t come to that and was still salvageable. Unfortunately, too many people have already lost their lives and existence to his mistake.

It had been like any tranquil day in young Daniel's life. He woke up groggy after a night of patrolling, went to school, hung out with his friends, patrolled a bit, saved a few weaker ghosts, stopped a few accidents and then went back home. The young Halfa had planned to finally reveal his identity to his parents- with no little insistence and encouragement from his sister and the reassurance of the previous Freakshow happenings. (He, of course, delayed the moment as much as he could.)

Of course, Clockwork had already watched and analyzed all the possible futures caused by this decision. He had assured Danny that no harm would befall him.

And since every possible happening was in Daniel’s favor, the ghost of time left the timeline out of his watch in favor of fixing yet another mess the Speedster’s had caused.

Seriously, what kind of mentally challenged troglodyte would erase an entire timeline to enjoy a cheap burger in loop instead of buying another!

*Crack*

The forceps broke in his hand. The Ancient summoned another one. Moving to stitch the lacerations on his king’s arms and legs.

It had, sadly, taken a while for the Master of Time to fix the Flash themed issues. It then took him an even longer while to salvage the tangled mess of timelines. He was far too late to save Danny’s loved ones. Humans, even Liminals, were fragile.

—-------------------

The reveal had gone well at first, Jack and Maddie had accepted their son’s new nature. But then the timelines merged, the Fenton parents became one with their alternates and the world was set ablaze.

The youngest Fenton was promptly drugged and knocked out, only to wake up on a dissection table. His parents and a few GIW agents circling him, tools in hand. The hours, maybe days, Daniel spent in these creatures’ grasps were a nightmare made real.

His sister and friends tried to free him, only to be captured and fall victim to the same fate. Amity Park’s younger population mutinied against the agency and scientists but quickly got shut down. Brutally. The city was deemed a lost cause and put on lock down. The elder Fentons and the GIW galvanized by their success, went after every single being standing in their way in the name of science and self-defense.

It was too much for the young Halfa. His every waking moment being haunted by monsters wearing the skin of people he used to know and love. To hear the same people who raised and loved him gloating at the harm they caused his fraid. At the harm they caused him, vindictive. Every ounce of strength Danny had went into figuring out a way to save what he had left. But alas, he was too late.

Everything culminated the moment the agents and his parents reentered the room for the how manyth time. Their make believe faces fixed into a cruel smirk, smiles too wide, eyes too bright and too many teeth. Were the ghosts truly the monsters ?

Black opaque bags were dragged into the room next. A dreadful foreboding feeling caressed his spine. It was different. What were they planning?! What did they do?!

Panic seized the Halfa’s heart, hair standing on end. Eyes wide and pupils dilating as he noticed the strong smell of copper permeating from the bags.  His restrained limbs shaking at the realization of the truth he oh so wanted to deny. 

The monsters kept talking, taunting and accusing him of something. Blaming him. But he didn’t ‘hear’ them over his ever rising dread.

They opened the bags and his world came crashing down.

Three lifeless barely recognizable corpses. Chest opened in a bloody imitation of a butterfly. Missing limbs and organs. An innumerable number of lacerations. All indicators of a painful and slow death. But yet their eyes remained closed into acceptance and welcoming the relief of death.

He wailed.

Despite the muzzle, despite his already severed vocal cords. The wail coming from his very core blasted everything in his surroundings. The muzzle shattered, the monsters vaporized into a red mist and the walls became debris.

The building shook. The creatures in human skin panicked trying desperately to flee the premise but they were too late.

The latest experimental portal meant to be mass produced by the GIW resonated with the Wail and destabilized. The explosion that followed erased the facility and its surroundings and triggered the original Fenton portal which in turn wiped the city above off the maps.

Every single being died. The GIW agents, the Fentons, the citizens and some of the weaker ghosts. The stronger Phantom rogues weren’t even in the range or succeeded in escaping. The Fentons and GIW were still ‘thankfully’ useless when it came to capturing them.

And then there was Phantom.

Unfortunately or fortunately for him.

Forever the exception.

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Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!

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Author note:

Hello! Thank you for reading! This time I didn't write this at 3 am!

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I wrote it at 5am! Insomnia says what?

[spookyxsprinkles]

if there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks, then i’ll follow you into the dark [chapter 1/?]

hayakawa aki × shy fiend f!reader

-> safe for work (for now) // 4.9k words // AO3. -> warnings: smoking, blood, cheesy, friendship, romance, discrimination, fluff, angst, pining that may or may not be mutual, soft aki, protective aki, eventual smut, eventual romance, canon divergent, fic will get into darker topics as the story progresses but i'll update the warnings as i go, chainsaw man part 1 spoilers.

Devil hunters use devils to kill devils.

The irony was never lost on you. This was a use or get used world, after all.

In the distance, your ears picked up the sounds of a fight. Explosions, rubble falling, metal crunching. It sounded far enough away for you not to worry about closing the convenience store early (not that your boss would’ve let you), but it was still close enough for you to stay alert as you stood on a flipped milk crate, stocking the fridge. The situation seemed to have settled by the time you finished and you allowed yourself to relax.

You were behind the counter reading a romance novel when the smell of dust and blood assaulted your nose, making you look up at the source. The sliding doors let out a melodic chime as a tall man with a top knot dressed in a black suit entered the store, walking straight for the freezers in the back. Your eyes stayed glued to the sword strapped to his back until he was no longer visible from where you stood.

You took a sip from your water bottle before returning your attention back to the book in front of you. Two pages later, you realize you weren’t actually processing the words on the page and, with a sigh, you flip back to try again. You struggled reading the same paragraph over and over until the sound of aluminum cans clanking against the counter top startled you. The man with a top knot (with a sword strapped to his back) had placed canned coffees and an apple in front of you.

“Cigarettes, too.”

Before he could finish pulling out his wallet, you set a white box down on the counter between the two of you. He stared down at the box of Mevius One KS cigarettes with a furrow in his brow and his eyes moved to meet your own.

“I-I have a good nose.” You anxiously look away from him and quickly scan his items, placing them neatly in a plastic bag. “That’ll be ¥4,570.74.”

The man eyed you for a moment, as if studying you, then pulled out his card to insert it into the machine until he noticed a sign with messy handwriting stating that the card machine was out of order. He returned his card back into it’s place in his wallet before pulling out cash and placing it into your outreached hand, his cold fingers brushing against yours as he did so.

“You’re good,” he says quietly.

You suck in a breath at his comment and nod, feeling unsure of how else to respond so you simply thank him for shopping at the convenience store and to have a nice day. You watch his dark form disappear down the street before letting out a sigh of relief as you adjusted the crochet beanie on your head.

+

Two or three times a week, he would come in to buy canned coffee and cigarettes. The two of you never spoke much beyond pleasantries. (“hello,” “good afternoon,” “have a nice day,” “you too.”)

Currently, he was in the back of the store by the freezers. You tried to keep your attention on your book as you absent-mindedly fidgeted with the sleeve of your over-sized cardigan.

It had been a few short months since you started working here, since you first noticed him. The convenience store wasn’t the closest one to the Public Safety office in Tokyo, but it was still frequented daily by people who worked there, including other devil hunters.

Every now and then you’d stop seeing a face come by the shop and determined that they must have been killed on the job. It wasn’t a secret that devil hunters didn’t have very long lifespans, it was the nature of the job. However, you recently found yourself feeling relieved whenever he stepped over the threshold of the sliding glass doors and greeted you in return.

You weren’t entirely sure why you felt that way. He was obviously attractive, though you doubted that was reason for your feelings.

Still, relieved as you may be, you found it difficult to focus whenever the two of you shared the same four walls.

To you, devils had an acrid smell. The stronger the devil, the more offensive the smell was. You were sure the devil hunter was human, but the scents that lingered on him were the strongest you had smelled in quite a while. The smell was stronger on him than it was on most of the devil hunters you encountered.

He must have worked closely with strong devils and the thought of that frightened you. You once heard a group of devil hunters mention a special division in Public Safety that made devils work for them without free will.

You cautiously cast glance his way as he flipped through a magazine, and you wondered if this devil hunter (your devil hunter) was involved with something as awful as that.

+

By now, he must have noticed the way you always avoided eye contact with him. You're sure of it.

You try to read but you simply could not focus and you found yourself looking in his direction every few minutes. He walked around the shop, aimlessly browsing, rather than going straight for what he came for like he usually did. You’re tempted by the opportunity to strike up a conversation with him, to get to know him a little (for better or worse), but you bite your tongue.

You wouldn’t know what to say. The majority of your social skills were learnt through reading books.

You notice that sometimes, when the store gets empty, he stares at you for a few moments, as if he wants to say something, before thinking better of it and exiting the store, leaving you to watch him from behind.

+

You felt your hands shaking more than they usually did whenever he was around. You hoped he didn't notice, though when you looked up at him, you could see him watching you. Your eyes briefly look over at the sword on his back before returning your attention back to the monitor and reading him his total.

You took his money and shakily hand him the receipt, which he takes. You quickly look away and feel his lingering gaze, followed by the small intake of breath. You get the impression that he's about to say something.

You do your best to look busy organizing your space behind the counter. Your hands were trembling, causing you to knock over a candy display. Rolls of mints clattered around your boots and you bend over to pick them up.

You hear the chiming of the sliding doors as they opened and closed and you peeked over the counter to see that he was gone.

+

A few days later, you’re stocking the freezer with drinks. Despite wearing your cardigan and beanie, you shivered as you struggled to reach the top shelves. You forgot to grab the milk crate from behind the counter to help you reach higher, but with the devil hunter in the store earlier than usual, you decided to quickly wrap up stocking so that you could get back to the counter.

Large, pale hands grasp the can from your hand, making you flinch in surprise. You look over your shoulder and see the devil hunter helping you place the remaining drinks on the top shelf. You swallow hard and avert your eyes from him.

“Thank you...” He nodded then went on his way to continued his shopping. You walk back to the register to wait for him. You felt his gaze on you but you didn’t dare look up away from the register you were pretending to clean. Your head hurt from overthinking.

You checked out his items when he brought them over to you, faster than you usually did. You were eager for him to leave so that you could focus on anything other than him right now.

"A box of Mevius One KS, please."

You were too distracted with your own thoughts that you forgot to give him his cigarettes. You apologize and turn in a hurry to reach for them on the shelf, stepping onto the milk crate, but in your haste you lost your balance. You yelped as you fell onto the cold tile, boxes of cigarettes raining down on your head.

The next thing you knew, he’s behind the counter kneeling beside you, scanning you for any injuries before returning his gaze to yours.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help but notice the concern in his voice. It was a stark contrast to the stoicism he usually exuded whenever he was in the store.

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as you looked up at him. You look away again, sitting up despite your butt aching from the fall. You ran a nervous hand through your hair and realized your beanie had fallen off and the devil hunter was staring—right at the pair of fluffy ears on your head.

“You’re…” he pauses, looking at you in a way that was hard to read.

You panicked. You grabbed your beanie from the floor, clumsily hopped over the counter, knocking over the candy display in the process as you ran out of the store.

“Wait! Come back!”

He continued to call out after you, his voice growing more and more distant until you could no longer make out the individual words. Your feet feel like they’re going to give out from underneath you as you sprint along the sidewalk hoping to never see him away.

+

The following day was your day off, but your boss called you in. He fired you for leaving the store unattended and withheld your final paycheck. When you timidly tried to stand up for yourself, telling him that he couldn’t do that, he said he could because you had no human rights as a fiend.

There was nothing you could do about it.

You managed to find another job in a grocery store on the other side of town. It was farther away from your home, but safer since it lessened the risk of running into the same devil hunter again.

A few weeks later, you were working the register when you recognized his scent. Your eyes widened in horror when you realized he had found you. The two of you stared at each other.

His expression was stern and focused. There’s no trace of the gentleness he’d shown last time. A depressing reminder that this man wasn’t just a man and you weren’t just a woman.

He was here to kill you, or worse.

You were frozen in place. It’s only when he begins to approach you that you remember to breathe. You trembled fearfully as he stood in front of you.

“Hey—”

“P-Please don’t hurt me,” you sputtered out from behind the register.

His expression softens, but his eyes are steady, resolute. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s trying to convey some sort of message to you.

“I’m not going to kill you, don’t worry,” he replies calmly. “I’m not here to harm you in any way.”

"But you're a devil hunter... are you here to capture me and force me to work for Public Safety?"

"No."

You don’t believe him and flinch away when he pulls something from his inner suit pocket.

An envelope.

"I realized you were probably scared of being hunted, so I didn’t chase you. I went looking for you back at the convenience store the next day. Your boss said you were fired. I found out he illegally withheld your final paycheck, so I've been searching for you to return it."

Your brows furrow as he places the envelope on the counter. You weren't sure if you could trust him or not. His eyes never left your face as you looked down at the envelope then back up at him. You're not sure what to say or do, but his quiet, patient composure is a stark contrast to his intimidating presence earlier.

He gestures towards the envelope. “You can open it. I’m not trying to force you to join Public Safety. I’m simply making sure you get what’s rightfully yours. You can’t exactly sue him.”

The fact that he seemed so confident that this was going to change everything, that you're going to trust him, sends your brain into overdrive. You don't know what to do.

“Open it," he says quietly. Gently.

You hesitantly reach for the envelope and open it, finding the money your former boss denied you of. You expect him to demand something from you in return, but he quietly walked out of the store.

+

A couple of weeks later, you pick up his scent again as you’re stacking a table with cans on sale. You noticed he was accompanied by two others with inhuman scents. Both strong and familiar smells that you’ve smelled on him in the past. Devils. In the grocery store? Their casual-wear made it seem like they weren’t on official business and based on the way they were acting, the three of them seemed close.

You were nearly finished with stacking the can display, when the devils accidentally ran their cart into the table, knocking over the cans. The devil hunter turned at the sound and came over.

You’re on your knees, picking up cans and placing them back on the table to get them off the floor. The devils snickered, until the devil hunter scolded them.

"Can you two knock it off and help pick those up?"

For some reason that makes you feel embarrassed and you tell him that it’s okay. “It was an accident. Don’t worry, it’s my job to do this...”

His gaze meets yours.

“Hey," he says quietly as he approaches the knocked over cans. After taking a quick glance at you, he begins to clean up the mess while the devils continued to bicker and argue as they stacked, making a competition out of it. The way they carried themselves, like bickering siblings. Not that you would know personally, but it reminded you of siblings in the stories you’ve read. You were wondering how old they were when you realized just how tall the devil hunter actually is; he seems to dwarf the other two.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at the fallen cans lying on the floor. You could feel his eyes on you, looking over you as though checking to see any sign of injuries. You sneak a peek at him, noticing his eyes glancing at the beanie on your head. The beanie that covered your devil ears.

You nod, your timid and nervous nature getting in the way of the moment. He scolds the others and eventually gives them the task of doing the rest of the shopping and offering them a snack reward. They run off excitedly with the cart as he helped you stack the cans. The two of you worked quietly.

He continued helping you for a bit longer, his presence soothing rather than intimidating like before. Then, once you finish stacking the cans on the shelf, he steps back for a moment as though hesitating.

You glance at him nervously, nodding as you chewed on your bottom lip. You wondered if it’d be rude to walk away right now. Probably.

"Are you busy after work?"

Your eyes widen, and you can feel your heart beginning to beat faster. You can hear the others laughing in the distance, clearly not paying attention to the conversation taking place.

"Yes," you lied.

He made a face, as if he could easily tell that you had just lied from your tone and nervous body language, but nodded anyways. He offered to buy you something to eat as an apology for the cans and for being the reason you lost your previous job at the convenience store.

"Will I... owe you?"

"No."

You weren’t sure whether or not you should trust him. So far, he seemed to have your best interests in mind, though you knew that could also be a trick. You decided to take a leap of faith.

"Apples. I like apples."

His expression remained stoic and you felt vulnerable under his watchful gaze. People who knew you were not human treated you differently, saw you differently. To them, you felt invisible and disposable. Like something to be used and tossed away when it became too much trouble. The way this devil hunter looked at you now was different than how he used to look at you when he thought you were a human like him, but it also didn’t feel like he thought of you as something less than him. The way he was looking at you right now made you feel like your heart was in your throat. You try to swallow it back down.

“Apples?” He gives a small nod. "Then I'll buy you some.”

+

He buys you a bag of apples.

It becomes routine.

Whenever he stops by the grocery store, he would leave you with a bag of apples.

It was the kindest thing a human had ever done for you.

You craved speaking with him, not really getting much positive attention from others. You felt lonely and wondered if he could tell. You didn't trust humans but you wanted to trust him. You really wanted to trust him.

So, you tried talking to him a little bit. It was awkward and you were as clumsy with your words as you were with your body but in a few months, the two of you were able to have casual small talk. You were so happy to be able to joke with him, even just a little bit.

Your relationship with him grew over time with these simple interactions, these little moments of kindness that he showed you.

This is a stark contrast to the way devil hunters and civilians had treated you in the past. Their disdain for devils would get in the way of your interactions, but you didn’t have that problem with your devil hunter. Seeing him with his devil friends gave you hope.

You looked forward to his visits. His presence is a quiet one. He doesn't expect anything from you, nor does he ask much about you yet here you are, talking almost like... friends.

"Th-Thank you, Mr. Hayakawa." You speak his name for the first time, a bit timidly. You learned it a couple of months ago when he asked to be signed up for the grocery store’s rewards program, but you never said it out loud until now. He had just bought you apples again and you wanted to thank him.

His expression was as gentle as his voice. "Just Aki is fine."

The way he holds himself seems to have loosened up considerably. His shoulders, once stiff and tense, now hang loosely by his sides. He no longer seems quite as intimidating. And you're not sure how exactly, but it almost seems as if his presence becomes... softer.

You nod, feeling your face heat up. "Sorry, th-thank you, Mr. A-Aki..!"

You can't tell if there's a small hint of amusement in his eyes, but then again, he's hard to read.

"Why 'Mr. Aki'?" He asks you curiously.

"Did I say something wrong? Would you prefer a different title?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers.

His eyebrows knit together slightly, as though thinking. “It’s not really needed, I guess. You don't need to call me by any title or honorific. Aki's enough..." He trails off.

"O-Okay... A-Aki..."

You felt your face heat even more from being allowed to refer to him so informally. You have never spoken someone's name so casually before. You distract yourself by stiffly scanning the rest of his items.

He eyes the bag of apples sitting at the end of the register’s moving belt. "Did you want anything else?" He asks, his eyes looking back to you. Your eyes widen and you shake your head furiously, knocking your beanie off balance, slightly revealing the bottom of one of your fluffy ears. Aki eyes it, wondering if you’d notice it in time to fix it before anyone else saw it.

"No, no I'm okay! Really! The apples are good. I love apples. I-I... Thank you, Aki."

"Are you sure?" He asks and from the way his eyes were staring at your cheeks you knew he was aware you were feeling very flustered right now.

Aki’s eyes return to your visible ear. You were beginning to feel self-conscious when he leaned over the counter of the register and adjusted your beanie. “Your ear was showing. Sorry.”

You flinched at the sudden contact and as he pulled away, you grabbed his wrists without thinking. You hold onto him for a moment.

The air around you seems to heat up slightly, the intensity of your gaze rather palpable. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the closeness of the situation and notice his eyebrow raising in confusion. He seemed a little surprised by how close you are to him, but he doesn't back away. The sound of someone sneezing snapped you out of your daze and you released him.

You back away from the register, avoiding his eyes and mumbling a series of apologies before making up some excuse about needing to unclog a toilet.

(Aki watched you run off towards the back. He could still feel the warmth of your hands around his wrists as he left the store).

+

The next few times Aki went to the store, you weren’t around. He asks the manager about you and she said that you took a few weeks off.

Aki wondered why and if it had anything to do with what happened.

+

As the days passed, his curiosity over why you weren’t around grew. He doesn’t know if your last encounter with him had anything to do with that, but he hoped that it didn’t.

Your absence brought about a certain sense of loneliness, and though he’s never admitted it to himself, he starts to miss you and the moments that you’d shared with one another.

+

You return a month later, avoiding Aki's eyes as you scanned his items. You were quiet today.

As you return to your old routine, you feel Aki’s eyes trailing you. He keeps to himself and gives you space, but he’s still observant as you worked. Something had changed in your demeanor. You're being polite but distant, keeping your distance from him and not speaking unless absolutely necessary. You’re not like yourself at all. He doesn’t know why and it makes his curiosity grow even more.

"Is something wrong?" He leans forward a bit, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

"No..." You say quietly as you handed him his change, careful not to touch him.

The way that you speak makes him certain that there is something wrong; he's known you long enough to tell. Your avoidance is what catches his attention however.

You bag his items and another customer sets their items down on the belt for you to scan. There are plenty of people lining up behind Aki, so you turn your attention to the next customer as you bag his items.

“Is this about me?” He asks, once the customers have cleared the line-up. He’d been watching you interact with the other customers and noticed that you weren't behaving this way with them. Only with him.

"Yes," you say hesitantly, "But you didn't do anything wrong. It's me that's the problem..." Your face burns red. "Please don't worry about it."

"Well, now you've got me worried," he replies, his usual stoic expression giving way to genuine concern. "You've been acting a bit strange. Like something happened."

"It-It doesn't feel appropriate to say, so I'd really rather we didn't get into it." You say as you fiddled with your fingers. "It's nothing worth worrying about. Nothing bad happened and I don't think ill of you, Mr- I mean, Aki."

If he wasn’t so worried, he would've quietly laughed at your little slip up. Aki watches you as you fiddle with your fingers, a bit more concerned now. He doesn’t like not being able to figure out what’s been on your mind this entire time.

You’re keeping things vague, and it’s driving him crazy.

"So, this has nothing to do with our last interaction?" he asks you, genuinely curious.

Your face reddens even more, "It... it may have something to do with that..." You look at the clock on the wall before timidly looking at Aki. "If it's okay with you, can we talk about it after my shift ends in 20 minutes..?"

He nods, still trying not to let any emotion appear on his face.

"That’s fine. I'll be waiting for you outside if that’s okay.”

+

Fifty minutes later, you run outside, panting heavily.

"S-Sorry for taking so long. You didn't have to wait." Your hands squeezed at the strap of your cross body bag.

"I don't mind," he tells you. You notice the way his eyes scan your face, as if he's looking for something in particular. Like he's trying to figure something out. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be okay. Thank you, Aki." You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. It all suddenly feels too real and you look down at the ground again. "I-I'm not being weird because you did something wrong. I've been acting strangely because I've recently realized my... my feelings. I'm sorry." You say quietly.

"Ah..." Aki replies softly, his attention glued to you as you nervously chew on your lip. "Can I ask you something?"

You nod. (In your head, you were mentally preparing for him to tell you to work at a different store so that he never has to see your devil face ever again.)

"You said that you've recently realized your feelings, but..." he pauses. "How long have you actually liked me?" There's a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Your ears perk up on your head, shifting your beanie slightly. "Not long! I swear, I promise it's only recent. It wasn't until I went home after the last time I saw you, when you were fixing my hat, that I realized there might be some feelings from my end. I promise I had no ulterior motives during the last ten months."

"Just how recent are we talking?"

"...Actually, maybe I did have an ulterior motive. No, not maybe. I did have one."

Your ears moved under the beanie, knocking it off of your head. Your ears lay flat against your head, like if you did something wrong.

“Really?” Aki raises an eyebrow, "What was your ulterior motive?"

"I…” You spoke quietly while staring down at his shoes. “I wanted to be your friend."

There’s a long moment of silence.

“...That’s an ulterior motive?” he asks, a hint of amusement returning to his voice. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

"Of course it is..! It was something I wanted that you didn't know I wanted. That's the definition, right?" Your face is red and your ears twitch but remain flat. "You were always so kind to me and whenever I saw you and Power and Denji behaving so familiar with each other I-I wanted that too." Your voice cracked and your eyes welled with tears.

Aki’s kindness meant the world to you and you wanted to be a part of his world, too.

He picked your beanie up off of the ground and dusted it off before placing it back on your head, carefully covering your ears for you.

“It is technically an ulterior motive,” Aki admits. He looks away from your eyes, to the ground between the two of you. “Is that really the main reason you kept talking to me?”

You nodded while trying to make yourself look at his face,

"I like you, in both senses of the word, but the platonic meaning is what I value the most. You've treated me with kindness and patience, even when I pretended to act like I was bad at my job just so I could have a few extra seconds of time with you."

Aki's expression softens.

“Do you want to come over my place for dinner?”

“Huh!?” Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at his sudden question, “Where did that come from?”

“Denji and Power will be there, too...” He trailed off.

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for the offer, though. I appreciate it but I don’t want to impose.”

“You won’t be imposing.”

He walks you to his car and when he unlocks it, you open the door to the backseat. He says you could sit up front if you wanted to. So you do. He helps secure your seat belt since you weren’t doing it quite right.

“Sorry. I’ve never used a seat belt before.”

“Never?” He asks as he maneuvers the car around the parking lot.

“Never.”

He stops, waiting for a chance to safely enter the street and takes that moment to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “You can open the window, if you want.”

Your ears perk up, pushing the beanie off of your head and onto your lap. Aki tells you which button to press and soon enough, your window was all the way down.

“Thank you, Aki.”

He nods, making a noise of acknowledgment as he turned the car onto the street. You stuck your head out the window to feel the wind whipping at your grinning face. And as Aki drove the two of you to his home, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t mind getting used to this.

[screenshotsonpinterest]

Thinking about how the extent of Tedros and Agatha’s relationship problems is them rehashing the same insecurities for 6 books and could have easily been resolved if Sophie had LET THEM BREATHE FOR TWO CONSECUTIVE MINUTES

[nyaagolor]

Knowing now that Krauss was on a business trip from the time Natsuhi was given Lion until after Lion's "death" and has No Idea about Lion makes the entire situation uproariously funny to me because it implies one of three things:

Everyone assumed Krauss was so obedient to / scared of Kinzo that he would accept the situation without question, so they just didn't bother telling him because they didn't want to deal with him until he got back

Kinzo and Genji had so little faith in Krauss' intelligence that they figured they could just convince him that Lion was his Actual Biological Child and that Natsuhi had just been hiding a hidden pregnancy for the past 9 months

Genji and the other servants were so busy dealing with Kinzo's grief and Everything Else that they just Forgot

[goldentigerfestival]

Genealogy of the Condemned/Convicted novel manga first chapter is done and ready to go!

You can read it here and here (second link is recommended for the notes page specifically).

Things to be aware of with this manga:

This is a short manga of six chapters. It doesn't cover even the entire childhood arc, let alone the whole novel.

Some lines are taken directly from the novel, while others were similar but not identical, and others were changed to fit manga style dialogue bubbles.

Not everything in the manga is 1:1 with the novel, but it's all pretty close.

I hope you enjoy!

Translation by me.

Scans by @suguelya.

Cleaning by Jenners and myself.

Typesetting by me.

[noxusstrap]

"I'll Get It Right This Time" An Ekko Time-Travel Fix It Fic

Ok so Hi! This is my first time ever dipping my toes into Tumblr posting besides just coming on here and reading some godly one-shots.

Im posting my fic here, as well as AO3, just in case!

Hope you guys enjoy!

CHAPTER I : THE BOY WHO SHATTERED TIME

Ekko felt like he was gonna hurl.

 Heimerdinger wasn't supposed to- he wasn't supposed to sacrifice himself like that, Powder wasn't supposed to come in during the process, wasn't supposed to see the real him, and he was so sure he wasn't supposed to see the expression she made at him so full of Love and Affection; but it all happened and he didn't know what to do now. He always thought himself to be the most sensible and sane of his former friends; but, now? Now he just wants to go back to his Jinx and save his people.

But the Universe had other plans.

He felt the hairs on his neck begin to stand up and he instinctively knew. The Hex Core was acting up, and he didn't know what to do. All it took was a single glance at the Z-Drive before everything went white.

_____

The first thing he could feel was the paved road beneath him, followed by the sounds of a bustling street and that distinct smell of Home.

It worked. 

Ekko sat up and silently cheered.

He was back! Only-

He paused and looked around, and everything was bigger than what he remembers, and that's when he noticed it; his hands were tiny. His child-like hands were just barely hanging onto the Z-Drive, or rather, what remained of it. The Hexcore glowed softly within the now shattered confinements of the Z-drive. The monkeys seemingly rusted like they've been used for decades rather than just a handful of times and all he could do was stare.

Oh Janna.

The device worked alright, but it worked too well, now; he's stuck in the past with no way back to the future.

It was supposed to only be four seconds…HOW COULD IT HAVE THROWN HIM OVER A DECADE TO THE PAST?!

“Fuck,” he sighed, just barely stopping himself from banging his head against the alley wall; he wasnt going to look a gifted horse in the mouth; he had gotten a once-in-a-lifetime chance and he was going to milk it for all it was worth. First things first, he had to figure out what day he was sent back to, and more importantly, what can he prevent from happening this time around to benefit the future?

Just as he was about to take a step out of the alley, he paused. He took a small glance at the Z-Drive; it was too big to disguise it as anything, and it would look suspicious if a small little child was carrying a device that looked like it could be worth millions even though it was severely damaged. He looked around, ducking between the dumpsters in the alley before finding a satchel, it was big enough to hold the broken Z-Drive but not big enough to arouse suspicion.

Ekko hummed, put the machine in the satchel and made his way out of the alley.

_____

His body instinctively carried him to Benzo’s Pawn Shop though his mind was absent, stirring with thoughts and possibilities of a different future, one where Jinx, Vi, Vander, and everyone else are still alive and well; it was dangerous to hope for that future. (he wanted to hope so so so badly-)

His thoughts come to a halt when they reach Jayce and his dear friend and partner, Viktor. He knew there was a universe out there where Hextech was never invented and it was an almost perfect world; of course he would know, he lived through it.

He paused right at the entrance of the shop, everything he could hear around him quieted to a light hum.

Just because Hextech went bad in one future doesn't mean we can't have good Hextech ideas and innovations. We just have to stop whatever the fuck Viktor did with the Hexcore; whatever it was. And- maybe bring Heimerdinger into this mess he made.

Ekko smirked and pushed open the doors. The ding of the bell rang resolutely throughout the small shop, and his false bravado fades as quickly as it appeared.

What if Benzo’s already Dead?

What if I arrived so much later than I predicted?

Was Powder still Powder?

Is Vander still Alive?

What if-

“Hey little man, where have you been all day, ey?” 

Ekko slowly looked towards the back of the shop, where the noise originated from. He knew that voice; he knew it better than anyone, but he couldn't just let himself hope before seeing him for himself.

He clutched the straps of the satchel holding the Z-Drive and took a single step towards the back room, before he could take another, a hand emerged from the back. He KNEW that hand.

And then he saw him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back to the shop, you just ran off and it’s dan-” Benzo gets cut off by Ekko slamming into his stomach at nearly sub-human speeds for a hug. He stumbles slightly, taken aback at the sheer strength Ekko showed, and lightly chuckled. “Woah there! Almost made me fall there, when did you get so strong Little Man!” He teases. 

Ekko let out an inaudible whimper, tightened his hold just a little more before releasing Benzo.

“Always been this strong Benzo.” Ekko’s voice miraculously kept an even tone despite everything in him wanting to cry and bury his face into the arms of his pseudo-father.

Benzo knew something was bothering Ekko, and he knew it had something to do with whatever he was carrying in that satchel of his, but chose not to pry, he could tell me what's going on if he really wanted me to know, he reasoned. Instead, he nuzzled Ekko’s hair and hummed, nodding to himself before slowly making his way to the back of the store.

“Listen kid-” Benzo stops in his tracks and calls over his shoulder, “Whatever you do, just be safe.” He smiles, and with that, he leaves. Ekko tries to get his body to move, to do anything, but it refused to listen. All he could do was watch the man he admired so much go back to his work.

Calm down, you need to calm down,Ekko chided himself, trying to psych himself up.

Everything’s okay, Benzo being here means Vander hasn't died yet, that means Claggor and Mylo are still alive and Power is still Powder. Ekko looked around the various shelves of knick knacks and useful items, his eyes gliding through them before stopping on a particular piece of hardware. It looked familiar, but where had he seen it before?

He narrowed his eyes, his mind fixated on this one piece; he knew this was before the deaths of everyone he loved but why was this specific piece of scrap ringing some sort of bell in his brai-

It was the last piece Jayce bought from them to complete his work.

Ekko felt bells frantically go off in his head; this means he was sucked back two months before Jayce’s apartment got blown up, two months before Ekko told anyone about the young scholar he scammed over the last couple of mechanisms needed to complete a project, two months was all he got to work with.

He cursed silently, his mind scrambling to make a cohesive plan with the amount of time he had at his disposal. If he could fix the Z-Drive, it would make his life so much easier, but as he took a single glance into the satchel, he decided it was best to leave that particular project on the back burner for now. He wouldn't even know where to begin with the Z-Drive without Heimerdinger's help, and even then, this wasn't his Heimerdinger anymore, this wasn't the brilliant Professor casted out of the Council; this isn't the Professor who found solace and companionship within the Firelights; this isn't the professor who sacrificed everything for him to be here right now.

Speaking of the Firelights, would they even be able to form now that he’s trying to fix everything? Would he be willing to establish the Firelights again for the sake of providing a sanctuary for the people of the Lanes? Oh without a doubt. But, he muses, it would be a couple of years from now that it would happen; for now, he needed to think of what to do, and he needed to write it down fast.

He scrambled to his little hideout on top of the shop, his fingers gliding through the first piece of paper he could find at lightning speeds, his mind running a hundred miles a minute, trying to formulate a plan that's feasible in two months, or 8 weeks, or if you really want to get technical, 1,460 hours. When he stopped writing, his hand was cramping, seemingly bruised from all the back and forth on the paper, but his mind was clear and his heart was finally beginning to hope for a better future this time around.

EKKO’S PLAN FOR ABSOLUTE WORLD DOMINATION (SAVING EVERYONES ASSES)

Stop Silco from mass producing Shimmer (Stop Silco in general by ANY means necessary) ((I want whatever they had in the Other world to happen here))

DON'T LET POWDER BECOME JINX! (maybe recruit her in his plans?) ((who is this ‘Isha’ girl I keep seeing in my dreams of my reality? Was she real? Why was she with Jinx?))

Prevent Jayce from fucking things up this time around (maybe help out with his experiments? Perhaps give him a reason to not fuck up the trade with Zaun with the Hexgates?)

Never let Claggor and Mylo die this time around. (They deserve a better future than what they got)

Get Heimerdinger to help turn Zaun into a Utopia (he mentioned doing so much in such little time? Was he the one who made Zaun a better place?)

Re-Establish the Firelights in case things go awry.

Fix the Z-Drive whenever possible (I don't want it to malfunction and bring more problems with it)

He looked at the now hung plan on his wall. He had two months to do everything on his list, and if they tried to stop him, he would make it EVERYONE'S problem. He knew the first thing on his agenda was regrettably the most time-consuming; but he couldn't afford to waste more time. He had to find a way to stop Silco even if it meant killing the guy, (he knew he had some good in him; he saw it in the alternate timeline, if he could just figure out what cause him to turn good in that timeline, it would make his life so much eas-). He had everything on the line, and he wasn't going to LOSE this time.

Let the games begin. Ekko smirked.

Am I gonna go insane writing this? Oh ABSOLUTELY!

Do I Care? FUCKKKKKK NOOOOOO!!!!!

Let me know what yall think; its my first time posting kinda nervy..

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

Happy Holidays, have a chapter 4!

Summary:

Jayce has a question to ask.

[cdam10]

Damn...

"Stanford didn't mind being a bit agressive this time."

I just made this, be kind, I explain myself more pretty in writing 😭😭😭 Ford is being a bitch man, he just wants his muse being in the wall oml

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

>pt. 4 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[platoapproved]

He had wondered before, if cooked human flesh would be any more palatable to a vampire. What about vampire flesh? Just how badly was Marius going to gag, when Daniel force-fed him a slice of his own sautéed dick?

Chapter 2 of the Marius Killing Fic! Now with 100% more cannibalism and Armand and Daniel domesticity. Get you a fic that can do both? Anyway, hope you enjoy, you beautiful sickos. 💚

[kimis-gloves]

Runnin’ Home to You: Part 2 - read pt 1 & 2 on ao3

100 follower special!!

warnings: swearing, mostly fluffy plot and then they get it ON at the end, 18+/Mature Audiences. oral sex m!receiving, max speaking dutch😫

word count: 2681

Max and Charles stood there. Charles was lost in the depths of max’s eyes, unable to find any words to say to him in this moment.

“I’m sorry I came so late. I didn’t mean to disturb you this way.” Max forced out, still unable to piece together exactly what he was doing inside of Charles’s apartment.

As Charles guides them back to the couch, he’s wondering what max could be apologizing for. Max was more than perfect for Charles and Charles would open his door for max at any hour for any reason, even if it meant pushing aside his aching heart to help someone whoo was a friend first.

“It’s okay, max. I’m not upset that you came. I’m glad you chose to come here rather than doing something dumb.”

“I dont know where I went wrong with kelly. I thought everything was perfect. I gave her everything she wanted, but in reality, I guess she just wasn’t everything that I wanted.”

“What do you mean max?” Charles questions, he along with everyone else, was under the impression that Max and Kelly were the duo, together forever, through thick and thin.

“I mean, is she inst the person I love, she int the person I long for after a hard race or a long meeting? Shas not the one I crave to smile and laugh with. I don’t feel the way about her that I feel like I should. I messed up so bad by loving someone who I wasn’t in love with. I dont know what to do Charles. Im for certain the one I love doesn feel the same way, and it hurts so bad. All I want to do is to show him how much he means to me, but I’m afraid that doing so will destroy my bond with him.”

“He?” Charles muttered, not even meaning to as he was so caught off guard. Max Verstappen is in love with a man?

“Yes, he, Charles. Im in love with a man and he doesn love me back, big surprise!” max said with a forced laugh, which wasn’t a laugh at all. Charles could hear through the laugh. He could tell that max was struggling so he could only do what he does best.

“So tell me about him,” he mumbled, with so much care to hear who this mystery man is that has max on such a grasp.

“Wha- Oh. Him. Well, to put things short, he’s everything I wish I could be. To me, he is my definition of perfect. Every moment I spend with him is like coming up for air after almost drowning. When I’m with him, I’m truly myself and I don’t see myself being that way around anyone else. The way he stares at me when we’re side by side, the look of hope in his eyes, just begging for me to let him by one time, hoping for a chance at something..”

As max carried on, Charles began to wonder who this person could be, he almost starts to get jealous that this person has obtained so much of max, parts of max that Charles thought he would never see until his thoughts are cut short by something max says

“... And god does he look fucking stunning in red”

And that’s when it hit him. Max was in love with Charles, and Charles was in love with max.

–

When max saw how Charles looked at him after he accidentally blurted out a crucial part of Charles’s identity, he feels his breathing start to deepen and his heart race faster than he’s ever gone in his car.

“Well, he sounds like a catch,” Charles chuckles with a quick wink in max’s direction.

“Yeah.. he really is, I guess”

“So, what are you going to do about it? You can’t know for sure until you ask him yourself and honestly max? Youre amazing. You have the best qualities a person could have, personally and physically. He would have to be stupid to not feel the same way about you”

Max hasn’t noticed how close Charles really is to him. He can hear the soft sounds of air escaping from his nose. Charles’s silence is something he could drown in for an eternity.

“Max, you okay? Do you nee-”

That’s when it hits max. Charles was talking about himself, of course he was! How could he have not noticed all along, how perfect Charles was with accepting him into his home in the darkest hours of the morning. He cuts the blue-eyed darling off with something Charles finds to be unexpected from max, to be so upfront with what he wants.

Max cuts off Charles with a kiss, not as passionate as max had hoped but soft and delicate, enough to hopefully convince Charles to kiss him back.

And he does.

Charles cups his hands on max’s jawline, opening his lips ever so slightly to invite max in. max adds a touch of appreciation by embracing the kiss and tasting the freshness of Charles’s mouthwash. He can’t help to think to himself what kissing Charles would be like when his mouth tastes like max.

As they come back up for air, the heavy breathing and light pink flush on Charles’s cheeks drives max absolutely mad.

“That’s what I’m going to do about it,” max utters, barely over a whisper as he can’t believe he just kissed the love of his dreams, and he kissed him back.

–

He finally admitted it. Charles thought all along that he was just being delusional, or crazy. But he knew that the way max grabs onto his waist way too early for way too long for a podium photo, or the way max smiles and blushes while he’s spraying Charles with the champagne of winners. Even how he chooses to talk to Charles over everyone else when he has the chance to. It was so obvious, but everyone told Charles not to believe what he thought. Max enjoying the view as drips fall from Charles’s features a bit too much, looking more Charles than Charles ever has.

But max however, looks fucking amazing right now. Lips puffy and panting, cheeks covered in a mild blush, and looking at Charles like he might explode if he doesn’t kiss him again.

So he does. Charles goes back for the second kiss. More desperate than the first and both clinging onto each other with a deep need for each other on themselves. Max pushes Charles lightly to lie down on the couch, but Charles insists on taking max into his bedroom as he would rather not fuck his dream guy on something that would take impossibly long to clean up. He’d rather wash his sheets. Charles finds himself getting off track as he’s leading max down the long hallway towards his bedroom.

Max admires the art Charles has displayed on the walls, as he also noticed Charles’s beautiful piano in a separate room along the way, he’s wondering just how beautiful Charles would look spread out, bent over the thing he adores so much, but not nearly as much as he adores max.

As soon as they both step into the well-decorated room, of course Charles has better taste than I probably will ever have. Max is thinking to himself.

He’s standing shyly in the middle of Charles’ room as Charles, painfully slow, makes his way towards max, resting his hands on max’s broad muscles.

“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to tell you how much you are to me,” Charles says, voice deep and rasped with desire.

“What do you mean?” max knows exactly what Charles means, he just wants him to say it so that it can be real.

“What I mean is, I have had my eyes on you for so long, our entire lives max. What I mean is I have watched you grow into who you are and I’ve only fallen harder and harder as times gone on. The amount of nights I’ve spent thinking about the way you touch me with what I was made to think was simple innocence, friendly rivals, was actually so much deeper, and that means more than anything to me right now. More than a championship, more than my seat at Ferrari. I will do absolutely everything to make sure you are loved every day and to protect you and our relationship. Whether that means pretending like nothing has changed in front of the media, I will do it because if it means I get to have these moments with you, then I will do it happy.”

“Charles, i don't know what to say or how to say what i want to”

“Dont say anything, just fucking kiss me right no-”

That was everything Charles needed. He didn’t need words from max to know he felt the same because the way max immediately grabbed onto Charles’s waist, the familiar touch feeling so much more intense right now than it ever has bin. It’s filled with need and want from max, almost as if he’s hoping to never let go of Charles for the remainder of his lifetime. His tongue diving deep into Charles’ mouth, tasting everything Charles had to offer as if it was his last meal. He quickly pushed Charles onto his bed, letting him get himself comfortable before putting his obviously larger body on top of Charles’s.

“Youre wearing too many clothes,” Charles demands

“Oh- Okay..” max stumbles back, balancing himself somehow on his legs, which felt like jello after hearing everything Charles had to say.

“We don’t need to do anything. I do not want to pressure you, but you should know I’m a virgin”

Max was surprised that he was shocked at his. He didn’t want to assume anything, but he had thought Charles would’ve used his beauty to his advantage by now.

“I was hoping someday, this.. Would happen. I guess I was right,” Charles said with that cheeky smile that always made max go crazy.

“Well lucky you charlie, I am too.”

“But I thought you and kelly-”

“Never, it never felt right to do it with her. But this?? This feels so fucking incredibly right, Charles. I can’t explain, i just need to show you..” and that he did as he quickly removed the remainder of his clothes. Charles finds himself staring in awe at max’s built figure. Broad shoulders and a perfect shape, thighs that could kill him if he wanted to. Max feels his desire as he mumbles.

“hall die eraf” - *take those off*

“English please, Maxie,” Charles giggles, but blushing at the sudden rasp max’s voice always has when he switches to dutch

“I said take those [clothes] off. I don’t like to repeat myself so I suggest you listen close, charlie.”

“Yes sir”

“Sir? Thats new,” Max hums

“Yes.. sir” Charles says in a more sultry tone, hoping to tease max as he drops his shirt off, leaving both in just their obviously sponsored boxers.

“Jij bent zo mooi charlie..” - you’re so beautiful

“Max.. I can’t understand you” Charles pouts as max takes a few steps closer to him, eyes roaming all over his lean but controlled figure. He really does look so beautiful like this, only for max too.

Max takes a moment to admire the Monegasque before he pulls him in for a deep kiss, this time not lasting long before max finds his hands trailing down Charles’s bare body, leaving soft but wet kisses along his jawline, smelling him in a way he never has before.

—

Before max could stop him, he found himself being pushed onto the bed by Charles, sitting as he watches Charles drop down to his knees, meeting the level of his thighs, he rests his head down on max’s thick thigh & max ruffles through his hair for a second before Charles starts to leave small kisses along max’s thighs, slowly leading up to where his boxers. Charles gives a max a look that speaks more languages than max can while he’s drunk. Max nods in allowment as Charles struggles to pull the tight boxers over max’s thighs and ass. Max’s already hard large cock springs out and Charles lets out a small gasp, in excitement and in worry as to how he’s going to fit all of the max inside of his mouth, let alone anywhere else..

Charles watches attentively as max’s cock leaks pre cum when Charles starts to lick the base of his cock.

“Charles, please don’t be a tease.. I promise we will have so much time to try things. I just want to feel you right now, please mijn liefje” - my love

“Yes, Max,” Charles spits as he takes Max's cock in his mouth. He sucks on his cherry red tip as he tastes the slightly salty taste of max’s pre cum in the back of his mouth. There’s nothing that tastes as good as max does, as well as there’s nothing that looks as good as max does. His breathing growing heavy as he takes in this fresh sensation that Charles was giving him.

“You taste so good, Maxie..” Charles hums before deciding he’s ready to attempt to fit max’s length in his mouth.

“You don’t have to take it all at once, i get it, its pret-”

“Youre so big, max, I fucking love it. I can’t wait to feel it stretch me out n fill me up with your cum” Charles says with a whine that leaves a chill up max’s back, worsening as Charles takes him in his mouth again, this time going deeper and deeper until he’s reached the slight fuzz of max’s cleaned up pubic hair. he smiles- or at least tries to when he feels the tickles against his face as he's mildly gagging on max’s cock, there's nothing that he could be doing right now that he would enjoy as much as this. he could live with max’s cock down his throat. After a moment of getting comfortable, Charles starts to move his head up & down along max, letting his dick lay flat and heavy on charles’ tongue. The more Charles starts to see how desperate Max is, the more he gives him.

“oh- fuck char- fuccckkk-“ max hisses as he cant even create a sentence when all he can think about is how fucking good charles feels on him.

Accidentally jerking his hips up, charles pulls off of him and continues to stroke his cock with his left hand and that's when max notices that charles has been jerking himself off this entire time, both are painfully hard for the other as charles gives max those doe eyes that drive him mad. It's not long before Charles goes back to sucking on Max's length when Max has to let him know that he's not gonna last much longer.

“charlie please, baby, i'm not gonna- hnnn- not gonna last much longer..” Max whines

Pausing for a second, charles says lewdly “please finish down my throat maxie, i need to taste every bit of you..” and with that max did. a warm surge of thick & sticky fluid runs down his throat and as charles swallows it max cant help but stare in awe at how almost innocent charles looks after he just fucked his dick like that. soon after charles finishes himself and finds himself laying with max, not a word said but they know by now that words aren't necessary. they already know.

“Cha-“

“Quiet max, please. Its 5 in the morning, im fucking spent. Get some rest and we will talk about all of this tomorrow”

“Alright, Goodnight Charlie”

“Goodnight max”

With that, they both drifted to sleep with limbs entwined with limbs. heart beats & low, synchronised breathing filled the room along with an aura of belonging. This is where Max wants to spend the rest of his life, with charles. vulnerable and raw. all will be complete in the world of max verstappen as he sleeps, unknown to what would happen when he woke up.

thank you so so much for 100 followers! i appreciate every one of you ❤️ i really hope you guys enjoyed this, i had fun writing it:) please lmk if you would like to see more of this duo & look out for new content soon!

likes, reblogs, comments & kudos on ao3 are always appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

- Alex

[smply-sktchng]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 74 with Excerpts from Mystic by Sylvia Plath

“The air is a mill of hooks —

Questions without answer

…

I remember

The dead smell of sun…

Once you have seen God, what is the remedy?

Once one has been seized up…

…

Used utterly…

What is the remedy?

…

[kiramyssu]

Fling poly vampire au !!! I'm kind of writing a fic about them, idk if I will ever finish it though (More info abr the AU under the cut)

In my AU there is an old vampire tradition where vampires give away their immortality by letting their loved one kill them, as a big gesture of love, so Dice wants to get a lover eventually just because he doesn't want to live forever lol

Dice is a human for the most part, Ramu&Gen are trying to trick him initially but he figured out they are vampires since day one tbh but never mentioned, so he just goes "uh, yeah sure" to whatever excuse they make about the subject, he doesn't mind them "lying" to him because the feelings Dice has for them are honest!! And that's enough!!! (Big fan of fling poly dynamic Dice being accidentally super honest about his feelings about them, while ameyume explodes internally over it)

Ameyume dynamic is, they start working together but don't really trust each other much, but eventually they get closer, then because Ramu is weak and needs blood often Gen offers his own, and Ramu always treats the humans he drinks blood from like lovers, so by usual he gets very flirty with Gen, which drives him insane (he thinks Ramuda is not serious about it and is being insensitive about Gen's feelings, while Ramuda IS serious, he just didn't think labeling what they have was necessary😭)

[youling-the-ghost]

GUESS WHO JUST WROTE A TITCH AND DEREK FIC!

well technically this is just chapter 1, but hey it's still (nearly) 3k of Aubgergine Goodness so it still counts

Anyways if I don't post an update for a while (a while as in longer than a week or so) you guys have my permission to spam my DMs to get me to update. I need y'all to hold me accountable.