#which dance is this monkey supposed to be doing

[cityselcouth]

it isn't midnight yet

pairing: caleb x reader

summary: when you realise the shift in your feelings for Caleb isn't as new as you thought and nowhere as fleeting as you hoped, wanting him turns unbearable. now, it's fifteen minutes to midnight, his birthday is almost over, and all you know is that you don't want to spend any more time avoiding what could be.

themes: childhood friends to lovers, complicated relationship dynamincs, fluff, explicit smut, so much sexual tension and build up, yearning, canon compliant, petnames, profanity, lots of making out, implied first time but whatever, nipple sucking, fingering, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, floor sex like seriously they fuck all over it lmao, a smidge of edging, multiple rounds, yapping during sex, praise kink, mentions of events from farspace deprivation and references to his other cards, mc is painfully desperate which is accurate for this card, they match each others freak

wc: 16.3k (don't look at me i'm ashamed)

playlist: why by shawn mendes, i wanna be yours by the arctic monkeys, dress by taylor swift, ride by somo, birthday dance by josh levi

lyns notes: IGNORE HOW LATE THIS IS PLEASE AND THANK YOU. remember when this was supposed to be short? yep. this is my very self-indulgent adaptation of no-return night! i've watched the kindled so many times it should be considered shameful and needed to be insane about it. i've unlocked levels of down bad previously unknown to man, and i have channelled those exact vibes into mc. happy birthday caleb. god bless.

For as long as you could remember, Caleb had always been just out of your reach. 

In a literal sense, that was completely incorrect. Growing up with him under the same roof meant that all your earliest memories had him embedded in them in some way or another. He had always been around, always ready to catch you if you fell or show you the way back home if you ever got lost. Older, dependable, constant; there was no end to the number of ways you could describe his presence in your life. 

But for the past couple of months, the one you’d say fit the best would be confusing.

“Sooooo, when are you going to be in Skyhaven?”

You gripped your phone a little tighter, pressing a finger to the scanner of your door and pushing it open. “Who said I was coming to Skyhaven?”

“You’ve asked me about my schedule, and my birthday is this week. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.” Caleb’s voice took on that teasing lilt you were so familiar with, and you knew the face he was probably making right now: a knowing grin paired with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“So much for trying to surprise you,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes by the doorway and walking into your apartment. “Can’t you let me at least think I’ve succeeded for once?”

“No can do. Let me know when you’re arriving so I can pick you up.” You could practically hear the smile in his voice. You unzipped the front part of your hunter uniform and tossed the corset into the laundry basket, rolling your shoulders to release the tension you had been carrying around. 

“No.”

A pause. “No?”

“The least you can do is let my arrival be a surprise.” 

He chuckled softly, and for some maddening reason, the sound made you stop whatever you were doing and listen. “Alright.” He relented, light and airy, “I can’t wait to see you.”

The drop in his tone, the way he stressed the word, something about it all made you bite the inside of your cheek hard. “Me too,” you admitted after a second, ignoring how your throat had gone dry. “I uh….gotta go. Bye, Caleb.”

“See ya.”

Ending the call, you heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed onto your couch. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes and stayed like that for a couple of minutes, trying your hardest to calm the hammering of your heart. The feeling was similar to when you were running high on adrenaline while facing a particularly dangerous wanderer.

But why on earth were you experiencing that now? 

Well, it wasn’t just now. He’d say something sweet, or stare at you for a beat too long, and it would feel as if all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, which confused you to no end. You had always known Caleb was a charming person; it was pretty obvious from how popular he had been in school as well as during his university days, but for the most part, you had been fairly immune. 

Lately, however, it seemed like that immunity of yours had worn off, and with it, the rose-tinted glasses you had been wearing your entire childhood when it came to him. As a child, you had thought that his tendency to hover around you and need to always be by your side was simply because he was fond of you. He was the older kid who had to take care of you, and for a while, you had assumed he looked at it as some sort of duty.

But now….

Caleb was the most important person in your life. When the explosion took place and he had been ripped out of it, the grief you felt was insurmountable. You could hardly process the fact that the boy you had turned to for everything was gone, leaving you with a gaping void in your heart that you couldn’t fill, no matter how much you tried. Even throwing yourself into your work hadn’t helped soothe the pain of losing him, because he was so intertwined with everything that made you you, from the way you carried yourself to how you held your gun. 

And then he returned from the dead, except he hadn’t ever actually been dead. The light in his eyes had dimmed, and he donned a uniform that turned him into someone you hardly recognised, but it was still him. The very same Caleb who faced danger with you now tried his hardest to keep you from it, terrified that he’d lose you. He held you tighter, kept you closer, and the way he looked at you was the same as it had always been, but there was something much more intense about it. Less subtle.

It wasn’t like you were any better. All the secrets he seemed to be keeping drove you crazy, and even when he was right in front of you, it still felt like he was worlds apart. You did everything you could to keep him as close as you could, to understand him better, even when it consisted of putting yourself in danger. The fiasco with the chip had been impulsive and risky, but he had gotten you out of it and still didn’t know you remembered everything that had happened. 

Perhaps it was the shock of losing him and then getting him back that caused something to shift inside of you. Now, you noticed how he lingered, feeling it in your bones every time he was around. His touch would have you freeze and hesitate in ways you never would have before. It wasn’t just innocent admiration you held for him anymore; it was much deeper than you thought it could be. At first, you told yourself it was just because you were so relieved to have him back, but as they grew more intense, you knew that those feelings were here to stay.

The territory you were navigating was so unfamiliar, and as a result, you shied away from your feelings time and time again. He’d get closer, and you’d take three steps back, forcing yourself to turn a blind eye to what was right in front of you in order to avoid messing up what you already had. You so badly wanted him to let you in, but constantly stumbled back whenever you felt yourself getting too close to the truth.

And Caleb never crossed the line. It didn’t matter how long he stared or how close he’d pull you, the moment you hesitated, he’d let you go. 

You weren’t as hopelessly oblivious as you let on; you were aware of how he felt because his feelings were a mirror of your own, even if you refused to look at them. You could see it in his eyes, how they’d narrow and go slightly hazy when he looked at you for too long. How his jaw would clench and his throat would bob, like he was fighting a war with his mind. 

Being with him was the most natural thing in the world to you, but it was moments like those that made you feel greedy for more. Your feelings for him weren’t platonic anymore.

And maybe they had never been platonic in the first place. Not really, anyway. Just friends didn’t use your body wash because it smelled like you, or promise not to get a girlfriend because you and Gran were all he needed. Friends didn’t pretend to date each other to ward off other people, and they definitely didn’t get jealous when the other paid attention to someone else. 

Opening your eyes, you aimlessly stared at the ceiling as thoughts of Caleb rolled around in your head. Thinking of him like this had originally filled you with immense guilt, considering the history you shared and how fragile everything had seemed when he reappeared. It felt almost forbidden to want more, a fruit you desperately wanted to taste but were instructed never to touch. It hung from a tree whose branches were much too high for you to reach, even when you stood on your tip-toes.

Just out of reach. 

Sitting up, you pulled yourself together and decided to focus on the task at hand. Caleb’s birthday was in less than a week, and you still had absolutely no idea what you were going to give him as a gift. Frustratingly enough, Caleb was the type of person to never talk about the things he wanted. The two of you had spent almost every birthday together, so you had pretty much given him every gift you could think he’d like, and you didn’t think he needed another three thousand-piece model to put together.

Your life would be so much easier if he were straight with you and just said what he wanted.

About gifts, of course. Nothing else.

“Should I call Gideon?”

Caleb sighed, leaning back in his chair as he examined the hologram reports in front of him half-heartedly. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’? He’s your friend, that’s why.” You snickered on the other end of the call. He could hear you shuffling around in your apartment, knowing how you could never stay still for more than ten minutes. 

“And?”

“I’m trying to plan a party for you.” You said, so obviously exasperated by his demeanour. “Can you not make my job harder?”

He smiled to himself at your grumbling, “Where's the fun in that? Besides, I don’t even want a party. Who else would I even call? Liam?”

Your silence spoke louder than your words ever could. “Right, but I still want to do something big for your birthday.” The pout that was undoubtedly on your lips was audible in the way you spoke, stubborn and insistent. “I want it to be special. It’s the first time we’re celebrating your birthday after… you know.”

Of course, he knew. 

“Have you considered that I only want to celebrate with you?” 

The statement was reckless, but he couldn’t help but indulge in that selfish wish. His twenty-fifth birthday had been one he spent up above the clouds in Skyhaven, alone, and supposedly dead to all who knew him. Honestly, he couldn’t have cared less about other people, but not having you by his side was the thing that hit him the hardest. Now, most of the people he had once called friends still thought he was dead, and his old life was nothing more than a distant memory.

You were all he had.

“Are you sure?” 

You sounded uncertain, like you couldn’t fathom the idea. When you were younger, he always had a party of some sort, and with his high school popularity, he was constantly surrounded by friends, but none of them ever held a candle to you. At the end of each birthday, it would always just be him and you, sneaking off to be away from the crowd and only with each other. As time went on, this tradition dwindled until the chance to get away from it all disappeared.

Even now, it sometimes felt as if he was running out of time; every second with you felt fleeting and precious. He wanted so badly to make up for the ten months he had been out of your life for, because when he found you again, there was so much he realised he didn’t know anymore. 

“It’ll be special if you’re there,” he swiped the reports away. “That’s all I want.”

There was a time when he was sure he’d never be able to let himself want more, even when he subconsciously let himself have it. Every time he pushed against the boundaries he had set for himself, you let him through without a single complaint, even pulling him closer when you didn’t quite understand what you were doing. 

“You’re always so greedy when it comes to my time.” The affectionate lilt in your voice made itself known even through the forced annoyance. He smiled

“You always let me be.”

To say you were frustrated would be an understatement. 

Caleb’s birthday, on all accounts, should have been considered a success. He wore the outfit you had gotten him, he loved the cake, and even the movie screening you had planned worked out pretty well, even if the movie was pretty boring. He seemed overjoyed at every little thing you had done, but to you, the day had felt like a repeat of every other birthday you had celebrated in the past. 

And as a result, as any well-adjusted person would, you had acted like a total lunatic the entire day. 

Instance number one: When he hugged you and said that the new outfit needed your scent on it for people to know you were together. You heard those words and instantly froze, your brain running at a mile a minute at the implication of it, even when you knew that the two of you weren’t actually together. 

Number two: “Eyes on the road.”

Getting caught staring at his chest had to be one of the top ten most embarrassing moments of your life. Honestly, who could blame you when that robot had announced it so loudly? Curiosity was a natural thing, and you were simply fulfilling that, but you were sure he hadn’t missed the follow-up glances you had taken, even if you had done your best to be subtle. Perhaps he hadn’t called you out those times for your sake. 

You didn’t even want to think about the way you shivered when he confessed he was always jealous. Pathetic. Mortifying. You were sure you were going insane, or something along those lines. 

Number three: your incessant questioning. Asking if he was enjoying his birthday, if it had all been to his liking and if he was having a good time over and over again, so anxious. He even asked you if the answer to that question was important to you for some reason. 

Damn him for being able to read you so well. As always, he was right, but it wasn’t the question that you felt was important, but rather the answer that would follow. You desperately wanted to know if he was content with how his birthday was going so far, or if he wanted more. 

But then you glanced at his shelves and caught sight of all the frames, each one having pictures of him and you. You on his back, another with you kissing his cheek at your graduation, him holding the back of your head as he looked down at you with a look in his eyes so achingly familiar that it made you snap out of it. You recalled how, instead of telling him why the question was important, you began talking. 

“Before…” you trailed off, swallowing the knot that appeared in your throat every time you spoke of the explosion. “I took you for granted. You were like the sun, and the sun is just in the sky, always shining. It’s a part of my life, so I assumed it would always be there.” In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were making any sense, but you couldn’t exactly stop now.

A half smile laced his lips. “I see we’re talking about a very serious topic now.” 

You did your best to appear as casual as possible, ignoring the way your heart hammered in your chest as you shrugged slightly. He instantly saw through the facade, and in typical Caleb fashion, poked your cheek playfully, leaning down just a little bit. “The sun doesn’t cease to exist just because you forgot to look up. It’ll always shine wherever you can see it.”

You stared at him when he said that, taking in everything about him. The reassuring squeeze on your shoulder, the gentle way he said it, and in that moment, you saw the Caleb you grew up with. The boy who did his utmost to protect you at every corner, the one whose hand you held onto whenever you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep without him crawling into your bed and holding you. Admirable, dependable, something worthwhile looking up to. 

“But back then, I never thought about how the sun might feel a little lonely, up there all by itself.” Always waiting on you to catch up, but never making it an expectation. You glanced down at your lap as he exhaled in surprise at your revelation, thinking of how even now, just like the sun, he felt so out of reach, even though he was right next to you, forbidden for you to touch. 

“Maybe what drew me in was never the sun or its light. It was just you, Caleb. Even if you’re a dim white dwarf, a supernova, or a bunch of ruins….I wouldn’t care.”

Everything you said felt wrong. Too heavy on your tongue. A confession that would burn your tongue if you ever stripped it back and spoke the truth of it out loud. You didn’t even know if it was okay for you to say all this, however much you draped it in metaphors and flowery language. 

He seemed to be stunned into silence, and taking advantage of this, you forged on. “No matter what happens in the future, I just want us to stay like this.” You wrapped your arms around him, settling into the familiar cocoon of his embrace. “To be able to hold you close.”

There was something so painfully delicate between Caleb and you. A fault line of sorts that you usually tread on as carefully as you could, but today, you had stomped all over it without any grace whatsoever. 

“Y/n.” He breathed out your name after what felt like ages, leaning down until his mouth was just by your ear. “Time and time again, you’ve always allowed me to want more than what I thought was possible.” You could feel his breath on your skin, making your mind go completely blank with its warmth, your own breath hitching as he hugged you back. 

It still wasn’t enough.

That conversation replayed in your head, frustration churning around inside of you until it felt like it was at a boiling point. How else were you supposed to explain any of that behaviour, other than chalking it up to utter lunacy?

Freshly showered, you now stood in front of the mirror, feeling more ridiculous than ever. A sense of restlessness simmered in your veins like an itch you couldn’t quite reach, warming your skin with an insatiable heat. Moonlight streamed through the windows of your room, illuminating the space enough for you not to have to switch any lights on as you inspected your reflection. 

The dress you had on right now was a gorgeous baby blue number that stopped a little above your mid-thigh, made of tastefully shimmery fabric. The straps were black ribbons, tied in pretty bows on top of your shoulders and wrapping you up like a present, deliberately chosen by you for that very detail. It matched the outfit you had picked out for him, but you hadn’t dared to wear it earlier. You even had shoes on, a pretty pair of black Mary Janes that tied the look together.

So there you were, all dolled up after showering and feeling like a total idiot, because what insane person made themselves a gift for someone they weren’t even with? The decision to purchase it had been an impulsive one, the result of another night filled with pent-up yearning and a need for your best friend that you still didn’t dare acknowledge.

Because he was Caleb,  those violet eyes you’ve grown up being watched by and that mischievous grin you had imprinted in your mind, completely impossible to forget. Your Caleb, but not exactly.

If Caleb was the sun, then you were Icarus.

And now, it was eleven forty-five p.m.

Fifteen minutes to midnight. Fifteen minutes until his birthday was over, and as the seconds passed, you could feel yourself being pulled away from the magic of the day. Your cowardice had won, keeping you from acting on all the feelings you had for him out of fear of ruining what you already had. 

Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. What you were so afraid to want was an idea you had only ever let yourself entertain in your dreams, and dreams belonged to the shade of night. Tomorrow would come, those dreams would be forgotten, and everything would go back to normal. Briefly, you allowed yourself to wonder if he was thinking of you right now, like you were thinking of him. When he closed his eyes tonight and fell asleep, would he dream of you too?

You turned away from the mirror and looked around the rest of the room, feeling extremely foolish. Crouching down, you began to unbuckle your heels when–

Footsteps.

You stilled, knowing that the only person the footsteps could have belonged to was Caleb. You had thought that you were the only one awake, but it seemed like he couldn’t sleep either. 

Was there a chance that he was awake for the same reasons as you? Momentarily, you wondered if he was just as frustrated as you were with how today had gone; exactly the same as all the years that had come before– all except for one little thing.

He hadn’t called you Pipsqueak. 

All your life, you had been his Pipsqueak, Pips, his one and only.  You couldn’t remember where the nickname had come from or when he had started using it, but it was a constant in the same way his presence was. You didn’t think you’d tolerate it from anyone but him, but now that you thought about it, he hadn’t called you that for a good while. It had just been your name, plain and simple.

Shutting your eyes, you let yourself be pulled back into that moment from an hour ago, with him holding you in his arms like letting you go would be a crime. You could still feel the warmth of his body through the layers of his clothing, and his heart beating in his chest. You could smell his cologne, and feel the sensation of his breath on your cheek as you held you close, so painfully aware of him as he overtook your every sense. 

The memory wasn’t enough, and right there, with fifteen minutes left for his birthday to be over, you knew that it would never be. 

Greed was a sin, and you were guilty. You wanted more than just the fleeting stares and charged tension that drove you crazy with anticipation for something you knew was never going to come. You were sick of waiting around when it was so clear he wanted what you did, too: to cross that line you had been balancing on for so long now. You wanted to feel his skin underneath your fingertips and sink into your emotions instead of hiding them. 

You wanted him.

The moonlight reflected off the candy tin that sat on your bedside table. Refusing to let yourself overthink this any longer, you picked it up and made your way to the living room.

Caleb was leaning back on the couch, legs spread, one arm draped over a cushion as his fingers drummed against it, and the other toying with the dog tag of his necklace. He hadn’t noticed you standing in the doorway just yet, his eyes trained on the tag pendant with something akin to reverence. He hadn’t even changed yet. 

The sight made your breath catch.

How many nights had he sat like this, looking at that necklace the same way he looked at you? You didn’t want it to be the only part of you he thought he had, because you wanted him to have it all, just as you wanted all of him. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you padded over to him. Immediately, his attention snapped to you as he let go of the pendant, a faint smile tickling his lips at your intrusion. 

“Is this the post-credits scene?”

Of course, he’d make a movie pun. Typically, his goofy one-liners would soothe any frayed nerves, but nothing of the sort happened this time.

“I just….remembered I haven’t given you your gift yet.” You said, mentally chastising yourself for how awkward your voice sounded. His eyes trailed over your figure appreciatively, taking in the sight of you in the dress that so obviously matched what he wore. 

“Right.” He sat forward, rested an arm on his knee, and looked away from you to collect himself, before that easy-going demeanour of his resurfaced once more. The switch was so subtle that if you weren’t so well-versed in every little thing about him, you might not have caught it.  “Well, I’m here.” 

Biting your lower lip, you took another step forward and held out the tin of candy. A minute ago, using it as your excuse had seemed like a good idea, but not anymore. More than anything, you just felt silly. 

Caleb blinked, taken aback at the way you thrust the tin in his direction. Scepticism bled into his expression as he stared at it, and then up at you, trying to figure out what you were playing at. He knew you like the back of his hand, and that included your tells for when you were hiding something, all of which you were currently exhibiting. From your shifty eyes to the way you were biting the inside of your cheek, he had seen it all before. 

He took the candy tin from your hand but kept his eyes on you. The intensity of his stare made that hesitation you were fighting against surge back, and suddenly, you were once again questioning if this was a good idea at all. What if it was too soon? 

“Now that you have your present, I should get to bed.” 

You stumbled over the words clumsily, wanting to get them out as quickly as possible so you could leave and abandon what you had started. Honestly, why on earth did you never think turning yourself into his gift would be a good idea? More importantly, where the hell did you get the short-lived confidence to go through with it? Spinning on your heels to leave the room, you felt an embarrassed flush of heat curl up your neck and travel to the apples of your cheeks, ashamed of yourself. 

He caught your wrist.

All these years, and nothing had changed about you when it came to wanting something but being too shy to ask for it. He had played dumb the whole day, despite being well aware of why your behaviour was so erratic. You were a language he was fluent in, and if there was one thing he was well-versed with, it was wanting you, and from the familiar look in your eyes that reflected what he so often saw in his own, he could only assume one thing. 

But he didn’t do a damn thing about it. At the end of the day, assumptions were just that, no matter how glaringly obvious the answer might have been. He held you close, but he had the patience of a saint and would wait as long as you needed him to.

For a moment, he loosened his grip on your wrist, giving you an out. The silent question was crystal clear through his actions: you could leave if you really wanted to and go to bed….or you could stay.

The two of you had spent your lives running after one another, pulling and pushing, locked in a stalemate of your own making. This was the first time you had ever tried to break free from it, and the first time he had ever tried to keep you there with him. Every other time, he had taken a step back the moment you were spooked, but now….

You didn’t take another step.

When he sensed that you had made your decision, he tightened his fingers around you and pulled you back, closer, until you were perched on one of his legs. You flailed for a second, steadying yourself by placing a hand on his shoulder, the sudden closeness making your mouth go dry.

“You used to always watch me open your gifts.”

He was too close. He wasn’t close enough. The low, knowing timbre of his voice made your head swim, and you barely even noticed how he wrapped his right arm around your waist until he tugged you even closer while he spoke, “And say how much I like them.”

Suddenly, your nose was right by his, almost brushing against each other. Your sharp intake of air wasn’t lost on him, nor was the way you rushed to compose yourself, readjusting your position on his lap so that you weren’t all up in his face. His arm remained secure around your waist, helping you maintain your balance on his thigh. 

Caleb popped open the lid of the tin and held it out to you, pinning you in place with a single look. “It’s not midnight yet. Don’t leave me, not until my birthday’s over.”

Keeping you close had always been of utmost importance to him. You had grown accustomed to him asking you to stay, not to leave, as if he lived every day thinking that you might. 

You were determined to prove him wrong. Picking up a yellow piece of candy from the scatter of other colourful ones inside, you pressed it to the seam of his lips and fed it to him, not daring to break eye contact even for a second, lest it break the spell both of you seemed to be under. Caleb winced once it was on his tongue and narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but there was no mistaking the heat that lay just under the surface of his gaze.

“Lemon flavoured,” he scoffed, equal parts disbelief and amusement, placing the tin on the coffee table. “Whenever you give me candy, it's always the sourest one.” 

Hand back on his shoulder, you succumbed to his gravitational pull and leaned a little closer. “Don’t you like sour things?”

Growing up, you had watched him always grab the sour-flavoured things, from candy to even the sodas he had. Every time he needed to concentrate on something, he’d chew on a lemon slice. He had even suggested that little trick to you several times, insisting that it worked, and you watched and took it all in, just like you did for everything about him. You tucked the information away in your mind and subconsciously made use of it. 

So now, with the way he called you out, you found yourself wondering if he even liked sour things. Caleb saw through your misconception immediately, biting back a smile at your evident uncertainty. The tartness of anything sour helped him focus and grounded him to the moment, but it was by no means a preference. If anything, it was a reflex, one he had developed over the years of denying himself anything sweet.

And the sweetest thing of all was you.

“I think I’ll look forward to more changes after we celebrate this birthday.”

Emboldened, you brought your hand to his mouth, gently brushing the pad of your thumb over the plush of his lower lip. “You can give it to me if you don’t like it.” 

This was as explicit as you were going to get when it came to asking for what you wanted so bad, and he knew it. The ball was in his court, and there was no turning back from here, not anymore. You watched as his gaze sharpened, peering into his horizon coloured eyes as his pupils dilated at the invitation concealed in your words.

His palm found your jaw with such gentleness that it astounded you, causing you to stiffen under his touch. It wasn’t as if he had never touched you before – your relationship (or lack thereof) had always been pretty physically affectionate, so the proximity should not have made you so nervous, but this was so starkly different from every other time he had invaded your personal space. This felt far more intimate than anything you had ever experienced before, and your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned in, a quiet sound escaping him. 

Helpless, frantic even, needing you like he needed air to breathe. It encompassed everything you felt for him and more. For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. Time wasn’t real and didn’t have any impact on either of you as your breaths mingled and a heavy silence settled. His gaze, dark and telling, dropped to your lips, ones you had swiped lip gloss on in naive hope of this, his own parting as he looked into your eyes once more. 

And then, when the clock of life resumed its course, Caleb dipped his head and pressed his mouth to yours. 

You had imagined this happening dozens of times, even before you fully understood the depth of your feelings for him, but your little daydreams didn’t come close to the real thing. Your mind screeched to a grinding halt the moment it happened because holy shit, Caleb was kissing you. 

But the rest of you? The rest of you acted on instinct, all that pent-up yearning for this exact moment coming out all at once. His lips were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care. There was an unmistakable sense of tentativeness to the way he kissed you, only going so far as to press his lips to yours over and over.

You could hardly believe he was actually kissing you, after all the times it had almost happened, only for him to pull away last minute, and that disbelief translated into your body language. Hesitantly, you lifted your hand from his shoulder, letting it hover there awkwardly for a couple of seconds as you kissed him back. Your scattered thoughts slowly came back to you, coalescing until all you were thinking of was him.

When you were sure it was real, you curled your fingers around the nape of his neck and pulled him closer.

Something shifted in that moment, something that neither of you could ever come back from and didn’t particularly care to. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he slanted them over yours, before pulling away just enough to be able to look you in the eyes, half-lidded and swirling with longing. He dragged his thumb over your cheekbone, caressing you like you were a work of art, a marble statue that he was lucky enough to touch, and tilted his head to the other side, capturing your lips once again.

There wasn’t a single trace of his earlier hesitation in this kiss, and the contrast made your head spin. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you melted into him, hyperaware of every little thing he did, and how he tugged you into him. Caleb sucked your lower lip in between his, his tongue sweeping across the plush of it and chasing after yours. You could taste the sour aftertaste that lingered as he plundered your mouth with a desperation that mirrored your own and was still, somehow, controlled. His grip on your face tightened ever so slightly, and you faintly registered him gulping. 

Did he just–

Did he just swallow the fucking candy?

When the two of you broke apart, you knew right then and there that everything had changed. One glance at him revealed to you just how wrecked he was from the kiss, breathing heavily and eyes burning with an intensity that had your lungs empty themselves of all the air inside them.

“Y/n.” Caleb’s voice had gotten lower, huskier.  “I know that’s not your gift.”

Of course, he had figured it out. It wasn’t like you had been subtle about it, but you felt caught nonetheless, cheeks flushing with tell-tale warmth. Your flustered state only seemed to egg him on further, with him tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear as he continued. “I’ll twist your words on purpose and use them to catch you.” 

Although he phrased it like a confession, it wasn’t like this was the first time he was doing it. You were well aware of his habit of driving you into a corner to get you to speak your mind, after all, he had done it all day today, and yet you still indulged him. He and you were two sides of the same coin, crazy about each other in ways that others would never be able to understand, but unable to let it show outright for the longest time. Now that it was all out in the open, a newfound sense of confidence surged through you.

“Go on then,” You pushed him onto his back by his shoulders, your hair falling around your face and framing it like a halo as you gazed down, savouring the surprise that flickered in those all-consuming eyes of his. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Caleb’s earlier self-assuredness seemed to fade at your assumption of control in that moment as he stared up at you, wide-eyed and wanting. You took advantage of the moment, for it wasn’t very often that you left him tongue-tied, your palm cradling the side of his face. 

“Wherever you are, what I always want is for you to be drawn to me…” The words left you in a delicate whisper, like a sinner confessing to her wrongdoings, kissing him chastely as if you were trying to imprint the moment into your memory. “With the weakest gravitational pull.”

Now that was a real confession, one that he had spent most of his waking moments wishing for but never expecting to happen. One edge of his mouth curled upwards in a half-smile.

“Gravity can’t be held responsible for people who fall in love.” The statement took root in your very soul, and it was like a weight had rolled off your shoulders at the acknowledgement. You loved him, so deep and true, and had spent what felt like an eternity fighting against those feelings. In this moment, however, you felt as light as a bird, as if that gravity he had so rightly accused you of blaming had vanished. He reached up, tracing the side of your face with such devotion that it made your chest ache. 

“I’ll remember more than just this.” A promise that he sealed by pressing your knuckles to his lips affectionately. “I’ll always remember that these things came from you.”

You, who were his every dream and wish for as far back as he could recall. All those years of wishing for you on his birthday, hoping that he’d one day have you like this as he blew out the candles, had turned into reality. When morning came, he wouldn’t have to hold onto rapidly fading memories of that fleeting dream anymore. 

You descended upon him eagerly, resuming getting lost in him before he even had the chance to hold you properly. While Caleb had years under his belt when it came to practising restraint and keeping his feelings in check, yours were painfully fresh, effervescent in ways you couldn’t control just yet. They bubbled over the top, bursting forth like soda from a thoroughly shaken bottle.

When the two of you inevitably rolled off the couch, you almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but he didn’t give you the chance with how demanding his kisses were. One hand cradled the back of your head to make sure that you didn’t get hurt, because he was your protector first, and everything else came after. You barely registered one of you hitting the edge of the coffee table, causing the candy tin to fall off, all its contents scattering around on the floor. 

Nothing else mattered, just you and him. 

Caleb braced himself over you, pulling away from the temptation that was your mouth to look down at you. Fingers intertwined with yours as he pressed the back of your hand against the floor, he couldn’t stop doubt from rushing back in, because how could this be real? It felt too good to be true, even though the warmth of your hand under his told him that he was wide awake. He focused on how your hands looked when interlocked, thinking back to all the times he had only let himself hold your hand in secret, when you were asleep and none the wiser.

A single piece of hard candy rolled over to where your hands lay – lemon flavoured, because of course it was. A scoff escaped him at the irony, but its clattering pulled him out of his scepticism-addled mind. 

“See?” He lifted your other hand and pressed it to his chest, the spot right over where his heart lay. “This is how you draw me in every time without fail.” 

He took your chin between his index finger and thumb, not allowing you to respond as he kissed you again, but it was different this time. It was slow, like he was taking his time to memorise how you felt against him. The pendants of his necklace clinked against each other and grazed your collarbone, the cool metal serving as an anchor and keeping you somewhat grounded.

There really wasn’t much space between the coffee table and his couch, which resulted in the position both of you were in right now, with him in between your folded legs. The realisation made the temperature in the room go up several notches, and you squeezed his hand before whispering against his lips. 

“Happy birthday, Caleb.”

His breath hitched as he pulled away, making a show of leaning back to sit on his heels and rubbing a hand over his face. “Y/n….” 

The heat in his voice was not lost on you, making you grin. You propped yourself up on your elbows, batting your eyelashes innocently, as if you were completely unaware of what you were doing. “What? I can’t wish you now?”

But Caleb was well-versed in all your little games, having been the one to play them for the majority of his life. “You can,” He murmured, resting a hand on your knee. “You know very well you can do anything you want to me.” 

What the hell. How could he say such a thing so casually? You felt positively insane at the combination of his words and his palm on your skin, your dress riding up your thighs just a tad. He knew what you were playing at, and if the air between him and you had been heavy with unresolved tension before, it was borderline electric now. 

“This is more about what you want. It’s your birthday.” You reminded him of the fact, waiting with baited breath for the choice he would make. It was probably past midnight at this point, but you didn’t care, and the sentiment remained the same.

He hummed, his hand slipping down your leg to your calf, over the thin fabric of your knee-high socks. “I think I want to kiss you all night.”

An indignant sound from your end. “Thats it?”

You were pouting. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorable you looked right then. 

“You underestimate how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you,” He said earnestly, before his tone switched into something much more patronising. “What? Were you expecting something more?”

You sat up properly, pulling your legs to yourself and levelling him with a glare. “You’re so–”

Caleb tutted immediately at your withdrawal, knowing fully well he was pushing your buttons and enjoying every second of it. He reached out, hands on your waist as he pulled you towards him once more– and you let him, quickly adapting to his lap. “Play nice. Can’t be mean to the birthday boy, now can you?”

“The birthday boy is annoying.”

“And you’re still here, aren’t you?”

As if you’d rather be anywhere else. As if you’d choose anyone else to be with. You huffed, spreading your hands out over his chest as you tried to tune out the impatient voice in your head that wanted you to take his jacket off. You settled for straddling him instead. “I can leave. Go to bed.” 

“You won’t.” The smirk that decorated his mouth, a mouth that you had just kissed, was nothing short of devilish. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled at the mere sight of it. “You don’t want to.” 

Well. He got you there. 

Caleb let his fingertips wander, slipping under the hem of your dress and caressing the skin there with a maddeningly light touch. Leaning forward, he turned his head to your neck and let his lips brush against your earlobe, delighting in the shiver it sent through your smaller frame. 

“Do I get to unwrap my present now?”

Any smart retort you had about wanting to leave flew right out of your mind at his question, the smooth cadence of his voice having anticipation thrum through your veins. It was the way he sounded so sure of himself that riled you up even more, that previous heat rushing back and dancing in the minimal space between both of your bodies, present even with his incessant teasing.

All you could manage was a sharp nod, your desperation for him returning with a vengeance. The heat emanating from your skin was like a drug to him, one that he couldn’t help but indulge, his lips brushing against your pulse point and breathing against it, making you feel near feverish.

“Words,” he instructed, like they were an easy thing to form while he slowly made you lose your train of thought. “I need you to say you want this, pretty girl.”

He was insane to think that you didn’t. You wet your lips, flustered. “I want it.” 

You could feel his lips curl upwards against your skin, one hand sliding up your side and to your shoulder. He then paused, simply toying with the ribbon there for a couple of excruciating seconds, before finally tugging and undoing the bow you had tied. One side of the top of your dress slipped a little lower, and all you could do was bite down on the plush of your lower lip as he repeated the action on the other side, simultaneously loving and hating how he was taking his time. 

The shimmery blue fabric dropped to your midriff, revealing your second surprise: a pale blue lacy bra adorning your skin, a pretty thing you had purchased for the sole purpose of driving the man you were currently sitting atop crazy. He pulled away from your neck, his eyes widening by a fraction as his gaze turned smouldering, his entire form stiffening as he took in the sight of it. 

“Fuck,” he rapsed out, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“You don’t like it?” You cocked your head to the side, knowing damn well the opposite was true and acting coquettish to cover up just how violently your nerves were acting up despite that fact. 

“I like it too much. That’s the problem.” He pulled his gaze away from your lace-clad chest, forcing himself to look you in the eyes and allowing you to see the depth of the emotion that lay in his. It felt as if you were looking right at the heel of a fire as it consumed everything in its path, molten and heavy. To call it desire would have been a disservice, because it was clearly so much more than just that. It was barely concealed longing and awe, and the very thing you had been fighting for as long as you could remember. 

It was love.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, his hand coming up to cup your jaw with tenderness that had your heart stuttering. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this for.” 

Vulnerability cut through the haze of lust that had enveloped him and you, and you were struck by just how quiet his voice had gotten. How he looked at you like you were some divine being he had the blessing to be in the presence of, devoted and mesmerised all at once. Had he always stared at you with such reverence?

“Caleb…” He shook his head as you trailed off. 

“I just–” he swallowed thickly, struggling to get the words out. You recognised the look in his eyes, that barely concealed restraint they always possessed when you got too close, just before he’d pull away and shut down. “I don’t want this to be just–”

“It won’t be. It isn’t.” You caught wind of where he was going with this and shut it down immediately. “Caleb, I don’t just want this, I want you. All of you.”

Exhaling slowly, he let his hands drop to your waist, squeezing lightly. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly. “I’ve imagined you saying that too.”

You wrapped your fingers around his tie, tugging him closer until his nose brushed against yours and you were almost kissing again, but not quite. He was in his head, and you were determined to pull him out of it and bring him back to the present. “Show me what else you’ve imagined?”

He didn’t have to be asked twice.

Caleb met you halfway, kissing you like he was making up for all the times he couldn’t. His lips travelled down your jaw and to your neck, every little nip he gave your skin sending sparks shooting down right to your core. You squirmed in his lap, tipping your head to give him easier access, your obvious eagerness earning a groan in response.

Like a flip had been switched, he lifted you off of him, resuming his earlier position of him being on top as your back met the carpet on his floor once more. His kisses turned hot and open-mouthed, leaving trails of warmth along your fevered skin as his lips moved lower, teeth grazing the junction where your neck and shoulder met. The simple, barely there contact had a shudder run through your body, and you gripped the lapels of his jacket, needing something to hold onto you. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, never wanting to cross any lines you weren’t comfortable with. The thought of him touching you made your head spin, and at your dazed nod, he slowly pushed the skirt part of your dress up, letting it bunch up around your waist. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, hot and sticky, its tendrils spreading through your lower body and leaving your panties damp. 

Panties that, upon seeing, had him cursing under his breath. They matched the bra you wore, telling him just how much you had thought about because– shit, you were in a matching set of lingerie. 

“Yeah, you’re trying to kill me,” he muttered, dropping his head to your chest. You couldn’t help the breathy giggle that left you, the strands of his inky hair tickling the skin of your collarbone. “You’re stunning. Is this all for me?”

“Do you see anyone else around?”

“Good to know you still insist on sassing me even like this,” he muttered wryly, his hand wandering up your thigh and dipping onto the inner side of it. Before you could think about refuting that statement, he began kissing the swell of your breast, trailing downwards and then wrapping his lips around your clothed nipple. Wetness from his tongue seeped through the lace as he swirled it around the already-stiff peak, and as if on instinct, your legs fell further apart, eyes screwing shut. 

He hummed, evidently pleased at your reaction, tugging the bra cup holding your other breast down, exposing the pillowy flesh underneath. Shifting his attention from the one he had been teasing, he gave your other nipple the same treatment, licking, sucking and teasing until you were writhing underneath him, breathing shaky and uneven. 

Caleb dragged his fingertips up the tantalising expanse of your inner thigh, inching closer to where you wanted him most as he continued his ministrations on your breasts. Running his teeth over your nipple, he gently bit down on the sensitive peak, catching you off guard and drawing out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. 

“Caleb,” you barely recognised your voice with how whiny you sounded. “Please just–”

But the rest of your impatient plea would never be heard, because he chose that exact moment to slip his hand up the rest of your thigh and press his fingers against your clothed core. You sucked in a sharp breath, your hips jerking into his touch desperately. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he mumbled against your overheated skin. “Have you been like this the entire time?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, far too turned on to be embarrassed by the fact. “Please hurry up and do something.”

He shot you a wolfish grin at your whining, rubbing the pads of his fingers against your covered folds and gaining a feel for just how desperate you were for him. You looked so fucking pretty like this, spread out and wrecked even when he had barely done anything to you yet, and still begging him for more. The sight was something straight out of a wet dream to him, every bit as sinful and perfect as he had imagined. “So impatient. Won’t you let me take my time with my gift?” 

“We have the whole night for you to take your time,” you shot back, and the implication made his eyes darken considerably. Without wasting another second, he pushed your soaked panties to the side and dipped two fingers in between your folds, letting out a disbelieving puff of air now that he could feel how wet you were directly. Slick collected on his fingers, he swiped it through, bringing it up to your already sensitive clit and applying just the right amount of pressure to make you mewl. 

“The whole night, huh?” Caleb kissed the hollow of your neck, and then higher. “Showing you everything I’ve imagined might actually take that long.”

You scrambled to grasp at his arms as he began to rub your clit, your entire body reacting to the touch it was programmed for him and him alone. He watched in fascination, drinking in every lovely sound you made, from delectable sighs to restless moans. It wasn’t like he intended on being a tease, but he couldn’t help it, drunk on your reactions and wanting to see how many he could draw out of you. 

Caleb let his finger wander back down your folds, swiping it up, down, and through your wetness over and over until you were squirming. The wet sounds had your cheeks burning, nails digging into the stiff fabric of his blazer as you whined. 

“Stop–”

“Stop what?” he taunted, his nail pressing into the underside of your clit. The sound that evoked was one you didn’t even think you were capable of making, eyes going wide and desperate.

“–teasing,” you breathed out. “Stop teasing. I need more.” More of this. More of him.

That was all it took. 

He slid a finger in, almost hypnotised by how smooth the glide was, a disbelieving scoff leaving him as he once again acknowledged just how wet you were. Your mouth fell open, a satisfied gasp escaping it as he buried said finger knuckle deep inside of you. Around him, you were warm and wet and so unbelievably tight that he felt himself grow harder, straining his pants but not caring about it for a second, so transfixed with you. 

His finger was longer than yours, brushing against spots that yours never could. He moved it slowly, pumping in and out of you at a pace that was both dizzying and infuriating before easing in a second one. 

Just when you were about to complain again, he crooked his fingers inside your cunt, and you moaned, “Oh fuck.”

“Feel good?” he pressed a kiss on the spot under your ear, breathing the words against it. “This what you wanted, baby?”

The new nickname had you clenching around him as you nodded furiously. He smirked triumphantly against your skin, increasing the motions as he finger fucked you, revelling in how your body responded so compliantly, truly made for him.

“Yes, yes. Please don’t stop.” You hiccuped, too lost in the sensation of his fingers dragging against your walls to form a coherent thought. It was the way you were looking right now, half-closed eyes caught between intense desire and a certain drowsiness only pleasure could bring about, dress all bunched up around your midriff– a mess, but a beautiful mess regardless.

Caleb had always been terrible at refusing you, so why should he start now? If you asked for something, he’d do anything to get you ten of them. Spoiling you was his favourite pastime, but he was starting to realise that he loved it even more like this, when you were begging him for something only he could deliver. 

When your legs began to tremble, his resolve steeled further, wanting more than anything to push you over the edge. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he mumbled, greedily mouthing at your breasts again. “Love making you feel good.”

His thumb found your engorged clit, rubbing deliberately heavy handed circles onto it. The squeal you let out was so cute, and he angled his fingers a little bit, watching as a shiver spread over your body and your eyes widened. 

A broken wail of ecstacy made its way past your lips as you tumbled over the edge, gushing around his fingers and growing so tight that it had his cock throb at the thought of being inside you. Your pussy was like a vise, sucking his fingers in deep, and he shamelessly indulged you, helping you ride out your high. Once he was sure it was over, he pulled his fingers out and nearly groaned at the sight of your release coating them.

Suddenly, the heat was unbearable. He shrugged off his jacket and grabbed at the knot of his tie, holding part of the fabric between his teeth and yanking the other end until it came undone. 

Witnessing this had two things happen to you at the same time: the first being your sharp inhale, and the second being the rush of desire that flooded your system all at once, shocking yourself with the magnitude of it all. Entranced, you watched as he discarded the tie and popped his collar, only snapping out of your reverie when you felt his fingers curl around your ankles and tug you closer. 

Fuck. 

Within seconds, his shirt was off, allowing you to unabashedly stare at the definition of his abs. You let your eyes wander because, wow, Caleb had always been extremely attractive, but the effects of it seemed to be hitting you all at once.

Having rid himself of part of his clothing, he turned his attention back to you, taking note of the appreciative glint in your eyes. You were perfect, so perfect for him in every single way, and he was going to make sure you knew it before the night was over. He found the mess of your dress and tugged it up and over your chest, uttering a single instruction.

“Up.”

You obeyed immediately, sitting up and letting him pull the material off of you, letting it join his discarded clothing without another care. After all, it was always meant to be peeled off of you, the perfect wrapping paper. Your shoes came off next, and you didn’t know which end of the room they landed up in. Left in only lingerie that barely left anything to the imagination, you had never felt so exposed and somehow still in control at the same time, because being vulnerable with Caleb was like second nature to you. 

“You look so pretty,” he cradled your face in his palms, voice soft and sincere. “I almost don’t want to take it off.”

“Almost,” you noted, teasing. He smirked down at you, snapping the strap of your bra against your shoulder.

“Almost,” he repeated, confirming that he was going to take it off anyway. He knocked your knees apart and settled in between them, resulting in you being eye-level with his chest, the silver of his necklace glinting in the dim lighting of his living room. 

And oh my god.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, a little awed. “It actually has gotten bigger.”

Caleb laughed, flicking your forehead as he gently pushed you back down, climbing over you and planting a kiss at the place he had just struck. 

“Did you think the robot assistant lied?” Amusement coated every syllable, a little muffled as he kissed your cheek, and then your lips, propping his index finger underneath your chin to angle your head better. 

“No,” you finally responded when he shifted his attention to your neck, sucking at the skin and leaving pretty little marks that would turn purple all over it. “Just confirming. You didn’t exactly let me check earlier.” You could feel his lips curve into a smile as he kissed down the valley of your breasts.

“Been thinkin’ about that all day, have you?” He glanced up at you from where he was, eyes alight with mischief. Caught, you decided to evade that question, sighing blissfully as he continued his path down your body. 

Until you realised where he was heading. 

“Wait, what are you–?”

“You have no idea,” He whispered reverently against your skin, methodically working his mouth over every part of it he could, like your body was a map he was attempting to commit to memory. “Just how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you.” His tongue flicked out occasionally, grounding you to the moment every time you felt yourself fall deeper into a daze. “Was sitting here and thinking of you, cravin’ you so bad. I do it almost every night.”

Every night. The idea made you positively woozy, cementing the fact that all the insanity you had felt in your apartment back in Linkon– it had been mutual. On some level, you had always known it had been, but hearing it like this, in such an intimate setting, made you feel braver. 

“Me too.” A breathless admittance, and it was the truth. It had always been the truth, even before you knew it.

Caleb looked up at you, both his hands slipping underneath your shins and gripping lightly. “I’ve wanted to hold you for so long, to kiss you and hold you and taste you–” he said in a manner that made it seem like he didn’t quite believe he was doing so now, rambling earnestly. “–fuck, can I taste you?”

He paused, letting the question weigh down on you. His path down your body made sense now, and you swallowed, trying to ignore how your pussy ached at the thought of it as you meekly whispered.

“You don’t have to.”

“Have to? Baby, I want to,” he kissed the spot just above your hip. “I’d beg if you asked me to.”  

You were so incredibly shy all of a sudden, overwhelmed by the sheer level of power he constantly loved placing in your hands. You recognised this was his way of ensuring you knew he was unequivocally and absolutely yours, and it set your blood on fire. Before you knew it, you found yourself surrendering.

“Okay.”

Without wasting another second, he pulled those pretty panties of yours off of you, albeit a little regretfully, and tossed them to the side as he settled in between your legs. Faced with your bare pussy, Caleb was convinced that he had died and gone to heaven already, unable to get over just how pretty it was, all flushed and glistening with need. You felt intimidated by how intently he was looking at it, trying to squirm away, but he held you there, large hands keeping you nice and spread out as he began peppering kisses over the expanse of your thighs. 

Then, without so much as a warning, he positioned your legs over his shoulders and licked a stripe up your cunt. Your gasp rushed straight to his head, much like how all his blood seemed to rush south. The taste of your slick made him groan, the sound so uncharacteristically filthy that you could feel yourself flush at hearing it, flattered and scandalised all at once. 

His tongue was tentative in its exploration of you at first, lapping at the wetness that seemed to trickle out of you uncontrollably like it was the finest of wines. He dragged over your entrance and up to your clit, flattening against it. 

“Oh,” you mewled, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging lightly. “Oh, fuck.”

The sensation of your nails lightly scratching against his scalp sent a delighted shiver down his spine, and he tightened his hold on you. He stroked his tongue over the bundle of nerves, once, twice, and continued doing so until you were whimpering uncontrollably. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and this was almost too much too soon, but it felt too good to protest.

Caleb looked at you from where he was, as your fingers carded through the front of his hair and pushed it back, giving him the perfect view of you. Maintaining eye contact, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, a deep sense of satisfaction spreading through his chest when he saw how your eyes snapped shut in pure ecstasy and your jaw fell open, crying out his name so loud.

Your back bowed off the ground, heels digging into his shoulder blades, torn between pulling him closer and attempting to push him away. He was determined to make sure you knew how much he was enjoying this. He groaned, and the vibrations from it elicited a moan from you in return, the two sounds coming together and forming a harmony of pleasure. 

“Caleb,” the way you whined his name was so perfect and breathy, he nearled cummed right there and there.

His wicked mouth continued to work you over the edge, and when you felt his finger prod at your entrance again, you squealed. The sounds coming from your pussy were borderline obscene with how wet you were, your slick mixing with his spit, coating your inner thighs as well. You felt that tug in your gut again as the coil pulled tighter and tighter, on the precipice of shattering.

It was so, so good, but greedy as you were, you wanted more. 

You tugged at his hair, gently at first and partly out of your need to hold onto something tangible to grip onto to stay grounded, before pulling harder, guiding him away from your cunt. 

Amusingly enough, it looked like he was offended at being parted from it, but maintained his gentle tone. “Somethin’ wrong?” 

“I think I’m close again.”

Caleb raised a singular eyebrow. “Sounds like everything was right then.” The pout on his lips would have been kind of adorable if not for the way your arousal coated his lips and chin, a sight so erotic it made you wish you could capture it somehow. 

You let your hands drop to his neck, pulling him back up from between your legs. “I want to come with you.” 

A hungry look entered his eyes, and he tongued his cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echoed, trailing your hands down his chest and abs, your nails grazing his skin with just the right amount of pressure to get him to shudder lightly. You stopped at his waistband, toying with it as your gaze flickered between it and his eyes, silently asking for permission. The ability to have an entire conversation with a single look was something he and you had mastered a long time ago, and this was no different. 

Caleb swallowed and nodded. “Okay, okay. Yeah. I want that too.”

You pushed him to the side, catching him a little off guard as he settled on his back. Sitting up, you straddled him once more, busying yourself with unfastening the button of his dress pants and unzipping them. He caught the slight tremble of your hands and smiled softly, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing a shockingly tender kiss to your forehead. Considering the situation, the contrast of it coaxed a nervous laugh out of you. 

“You’re distracting me,” you mumbled, turning your face into his hand and leaning into his touch. He played coy, thoroughly amused.

“Am I?”

“You know you are,” your hands were splayed out on his lower torso as you took a breather, overwhelmed. He didn’t care in the slightest, pulling you closer and resting his forehead against yours.

“I love being your distraction,” he hummed. “That’s how I know you’re paying attention to only me.”

A kiss to the side of your mouth brought all that confidence back. You straightened, pushing his pants down past his hips and repeated the action with his boxers, revealing his erection.

Flushed and painfully hard, it stood up against his stomach and made your eyes widen, because – holy shit – he was big. Your mouth went dry at the mere sight of it, and he tilted his head to the side, continuing in that soft cadence. “You okay?”

Shit – maybe you should have been the one asking that, because being that hard for presusmably this long had to have been extremely uncomfortable for him. Still, there he was, checking in on you instead. 

Your sweet, perfect boy. The man you loved. 

“I’m good,” you wet your lips, meeting his eyes and finding out just how much he was holding back right there, the purple of his irises almost entirely gone with how blown out his pupils were. “Can I– can I touch you?”

You caught his Adam's apple bob and wanted to bite it. 

I’ve only ever been yours to touch, his thoughts screamed back at him as he watched you wait for his response, but his tongue seemed to have trouble catching up to his mind at the moment. Everything about this was surreal to him, with you reciprocating everything he felt and showing it for the first time. “Yeah, you can.” He said after a beat, and then, as an afterthought, he added, “Please.”

Gently, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his cock, feeling the weight of it in your hand. You didn’t miss the way he inhaled sharply, sucking air in through his teeth at the touch. His eyes fluttered shut, long eyelashes that you envied kissing the skin under his eyes as he tipped his head back. 

Seeing him like this spurred you on even further. You moved your hand a little, up his length, teasing his tip and the slit that leaked precum, spreading it around with your thumb. It made a mess on your palm, but made it easier for you to glide back down his cock, relishing the way he hissed in pleasure. 

Caleb jerked his hips into your fist instinctively, evidently trying his hardest to hold back his sounds, only letting the slightest of moans slip past his lips. You were having none of it, tightening your hold on him as you moved your hand, suddenly feeling playful. Leaning forward, you brushed the tip of your nose along his neck before pressing a kiss against his heated skin.

“Let me make you feel good,” you mumbled, syrupy sweet in your manner of speaking. It was the same tone you used to use with him every time you wanted to get your way, but instead of your usual puppy eyes, you settled for planting lazy kisses on his neck. 

“God–,” he sounded so strained, “Wait, I– fuuuuck”

You were aching for him at this point, now that you could feel him and imagine how he would feel. You ran the pad of your thumb over the vein on the underside of his cock teasingly, sucking on his pulse point, tasting the salt of his skin on your tongue. Briefly, you entertained the thought of lowering your mouth even further, until you had his tip in your mouth and–

Caleb caught your wrist, panting heavily. “Okay. Stop. No more.”

“I barely did anything?!” You protested, and he chuckled airily.

He breathed out your name, and it was completely intoxicating, an octave lower than usual and rough. “If you do anything more, I’ll come.”

“But–”

He turned his face, nose brushing yours as he breathed against your lips. “I’m not coming on your hand the first time we do this.” 

Assertive. Firm. Your train of thought came to a sharp halt, puddling into a mess of incoherence as lust took over. You nodded eagerly, crashing your lips to his again in a messy kiss, all tongue and heat and a desperation for each other that somehow hadn’t burst at the seams yet, but was about to. 

Another roll over, and the two of you were so far away from the spot you started in. Caleb was on top again, both of you caught up in your feverish lip lock. Your hands were in his hair as you pulled him as close as physically possible, and he reached behind you, finally unhooking your bra and letting it fall off, joining the rest of your discarded clothing. 

Caleb lifted your legs and hooked them over his hips, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs as he licked into your mouth. He pushed his hips forward, pressing his cock against your dripping folds and rocking aimlessly, coating himself in your slick. The feeling of the head of his length rutting against your clit had you make a keening sound, one that he swallowed greedily, echoing with his own moan. 

This was real. It wasn’t a dream, your nails scratching against his biceps told him as much. You bucked your hips up against his, and the feeling of you, so wet and soft, was enough to make him feel delirious. 

“You’re perfect,” he said drunkenly. “My perfect girl.”

Oh.

Hearing him say it like that was something else. Calling you his, speaking it into existence to remind himself of the fact as much as it was to remind you, not bothering to ask the question first because there was no need to. Asking you to be his was trivial, especially when both of you knew you already were. 

He hiked your legs even higher as his tip caught at your entrance, nudging at it but not pushing in just yet. Those few seconds were torture, almost what you wanted but not quite. Not yet.

One more kiss. A dulcet whisper of ‘yours’ falling from you.

When he finally sank into you, it was slow, and you could feel it everywhere, your nerve endings on fire. The stretch burned deliciously, a momentary flash of discomfort that he distracted you from with another intense kiss, until it melted into pleasure. Your pussy eagerly welcomed him, hot and velvety around his cock as he inched his way in, even when taking his time was proving to be a difficult task. You felt unimaginably good, and when he glanced down between the two of your bodies, the sight of him half buried inside of you was enough to make him go a little light-headed. 

Caleb buried his face in the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as you pawed at his arms, producing pitchy little whimpers that sounded like music to his ears. A particularly impatient rut of his hips later, he was finally all the way in you. All you could manage were shallow breaths, feeling so full that it made it hard to think straight. 

“Y/n,” there was that drunken lilt to his tone again, muffled against your shoulder. “God, fuck, you feel incredible. I could do this all night” 

His words came to life in your mind, and you moaned, positively high off the praise, your walls pulsing around him happily as you adjusted to his size. “Yes.”

“Yes? You like the sound of that?” He encouraged you to elaborate, even though he knew how your state of mind had to have been then, reduced to nothing more than a puddle. Your entire body was impossibly flushed, and he massaged your hips soothingly, feeling how tense you had gone, clenching hard.

Caleb moved his mouth to your ear and whispered, “Relax for me, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so tight.” 

You forced yourself to let go of some of that tension, breathing deeply to keep yourself at least a little bit relaxed. He kissed your pulse point, feather light, as he pulled all the way out until only his tip remained inside of you. The loss made you whine pitifully, feeling uncomfortably empty now that you knew what it was to be full of him. Lifting his head from your neck, he couldn’t help but smirk when you wiggled, silently begging for more. 

“So impatient,” he tutted condescendingly, squeezing your waist. The glare you threw his way was weak.

“You–”

He promptly shut you up with a deep, measured stroke, ensuring that you felt every single inch of him as he did. Whatever scathing quip you were about to fire at him flew right out of your head, replaced with a humilatingly wanton cry of his name, nearly sobbing in relief when he repeated the action. He had always been like this, pushing your buttons until they were completely undone. 

“I…I don’t think I’ll last long,” you warned breathlessly as he rolled his hips into yours, arching off the floor when you felt him even deeper than the last thrust. Your previously building climax had resumed its course, all that sensitivity coming back all at once. 

“I know, I can feel it.” His hand slipped down your thigh to the curve of your ass, lifting your hips slightly and leaving absolutely no space between the two of you. 

As if to prove his point, you felt yourself clench around him again, getting even wetter when the head of his cock briefly brushed against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You lolled your head to the side, shutting your eyes as you focused on how he was fucking you. He dropped back down, his body dwarfing you as he buried his face in your hair, hips rocking against yours. The space between you, or lack thereof, felt heavy with your mutual need and something else.

Bodies flush against each other, chest pressing against his– suddenly, this wasn’t about pleasure anymore. Your breaths and heartbeats converged into one, skin to skin and connected in the way both of you had longed for, all that waiting and wanting coming to a head in this fragile, beautiful moment. Every gasp was a proclamation of your feelings, spilling clarity over them in a way that words never could. He was yours just as much as you were his, two souls melding into one. 

You would never be separated again.

The words sat on the tip of your tongue, a mere eight letters forming all three of them. They should have been easy to say, but you found yourself holding back, not wanting them to come out like this. Caleb's fingers found yours, intertwining with them and squeezing as he pressed the back of your hands into the carpeted floor. Heavy emotion mixed with the sheer levels of bliss coursing through your veins as he moved inside you, steadily climbing to the peak of its crescendo.

When you came, it was much more intense than the first time, your mind dissolving into a jumbled mess and a ragged moan of his name leaving your throat. You got so tight around him, causing his pace to stutter, and then slow down a little bit, switching into shallower thrusts. For your sake, you realised.

“We– we can stop if it's too much,” he muttered, but the desperate rutting of his hips against yours told you a different story. He hadn’t come yet, and though you were so sensitive to every little movement of his now, it felt too good to want it to stop. You felt insatiable, wanting him to fall apart just as you had and to be the one he fell apart for. 

So you choked out hoarsely, “More.”

“Fucking hell,” his voice had taken on a tone you had never heard before, “Are you sure?”

Instead of responding verbally, you locked your legs behind him, dragging him deeper into your soaked cunt and mewling at the feel of him. 

And then, because you could never resist pushing his buttons, you purred, “Didn’t you say you could do this all night?”

Caleb’s eyes snapped to yours, narrowing slightly at the taunt. The air crackled with a newfound intensity, contrasting the sweet intimacy that you had just shared with him, slipping into darker territory. “I did,” he drawled, pulling out completely before snapping his hips to yours again, the roughness of the move a stark difference from his previous gentleness. You were helpless to the intense waves of pleasure washing over you while he fucked you, succumbing to them with an enthusiastic groan. “You want that, huh? Want me to fuck you all night?”

The way he phrased it was filthy and so wrong in all the right ways, a dark lilt injected into his tone. Seemingly knowing the effect it had on you, he let go of one of your hands, cupping one of your breasts instead. Instinctively, you arched up into his touch, and he grinned, rolling your nipple under his fingers before pinching it. He savoured the way you whined, wishing he could permanently imprint the sound in his memory as he continued to tease the pebbled bud, tugging and flicking it. His ministrations only amplified the ache between your legs, despite you being quite literally stuffed full of him.

“Come on,” he taunted playfully. “Say it. Say you want me to fuck you all night.”

A rush of shame curled around you, the vulgarity of the statement having you exhale sharply. You reached up and pulled him back down into a kiss, hoping it would distract him, and for a couple of seconds, it seemed like it did. He hummed contentedly, but then broke away and pinched your nipple again, this time harsher than before. 

“Say it, or I stop.” 

That was wholly counterintuitive, especially since that meant he would essentially be blue-balling himself. However, your ability to think logically had flown out the window a long time ago, and you shook your head desperately when he actually began to slow down a little, rolling your hips upwards and babbling.

“I want it– want you to fuck me all night.”

“Good girl.” 

Oh, you definitely liked that, judging by the way your pussy fluttered around him so eagerly. His messed-up hair fell into his eyes as he set a punishing pace, groaning at how silky smooth the glide was. At how you fit together so perfectly. 

And god, you looked absolutely debauched, a vision with your flushed skin and red marks littered all over your neck and chest. The sight of you like this had to have been the very definition of sin, glossy eyes and pathetic little whimpers falling from kiss-bitten lips that encouraged him to fuck you even harder. He forced himself to look away, glancing down at the spot where the two of you were connected and watching how his cock disappeared in you, your cunt hungrily gripping and sucking him back in every time he rocked away. 

“Look at you,” He crooned, notching himself in you completely and staying still for a few, cruel moments.. “Look at your pretty little pussy taking my cock so well. It’s like you were made for me.”

Your sensitivity from the overstimulation had circled back to pure need by now, and an agonised moan left those swollen lips of yours at the stilling of his movements. Your nails dug into his skin, the sting making him hiss. His cock throbbed inside of you, so, so close to coming undone. When you curved off the carpet, he splayed a hand over your stomach and took a moment to admire how large it looked against you, before pressing down firmly. 

“Caleb, please,” the look you threw his way was addictive, so desperate and wanting. How could he ever refuse you, especially when you were looking at him like that? 

“Anything,” he dropped his mouth to yours, breathing out against it and pinning your hips down. His hand on your stomach slid lower, dipping into your folds, dragging your slick up to your engorged clit and rolling it between his fingers. Your shriek of surprise and pleasure was nothing short of delightful. “I’ll give you anything and everything you ask for.”

Caleb began rutting into you again, angling his hips slightly differently now, going even deeper. As a result, he brushed against that spot that had you seeing stars once more, and you cried out. 

“Oh my god, right there– please don’t stop, please, please–!” 

His grip on your hips turned bruising, sure to leave marks, but neither of you cared in the slightest, lost to the overwhelming pleasure. He fucked into that spot over and over, lewd, wet sounds echoing through the living room every time his body met yours. Your vision blurred as you clawed at him, so far gone. 

“Won’t stop,” he groaned, reassuring you that he was now done teasing. “Y/n I– god– stay with me, okay?” He was borderline frantic with his thrusts now, his composure having crumbled away completely and leaving you with a frenzied man, chasing his high and determined to give you another, drowning in the depths of his own emotions. “Don’t ever leave me.”

It was a statement he had spoken several times before, between the lingering stares and tight embraces that lasted a little too long. Constantly asking you to never leave him, holding on so tight in fear that he’d lose you. Somehow, in the midst of the haze of bliss you were caught in, you managed to catch on to what he was saying. 

“Never,” you whimpered, cupping his face and holding him close. “I’m never leaving you, I’m yours.” 

Caleb nuzzled into your touch and pressed his forehead to yours. “And I’m yours.” 

He littered burning kisses over the expanse of your neck, pressing them to your chin and cheeks as well, spilling his affections onto every bit of you that he could. Your fingers found purchase in his hair once more, tugging and using your hold to angle his face so that you could kiss him again.

With one final pass of his fingers over your clit, your third orgasm slammed into you. You sobbed out his name through the waves of euphoria that crashed through your body, setting your entire body alight from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Caleb helped you ride through your high, grinding into you and drawing out the white-hot pleasure that licked at you so tantalisingly. It felt as if you were falling into the abyss, but as always, he was there to catch you.

Caleb came shortly after, unable to hold off any longer with the way your pussy clamped down on him, tight and hot and demanding in the most delicious way. His thrusts slowed down as he lazily rode his high, pumping into your trembling form slower. Your walls spasmed, and he grunted, pressing his lips to yours and muffling your whines. 

The kiss veered into something much softer, just a breathless brush of your lips as you calmed down, head descending from the clouds. He pulled out gently, humming softly when you hissed and pressing his lips to your forehead in lieu of an apology. 

“You’re incredible,” he said quietly. Silence ruled the room for a couple of seconds; the only thing you could perceive was the quickened beating of your heart, and every spot where his skin touched yours. Nothing but him existed in the little world you had created for yourselves, and the two of you stayed like that for a bit, basking in each other's warmth. 

“Caleb,” you murmured his name, the syllables feeling heavy on your tongue. The words you wanted to say so badly stuck in your throat, and your vocal cords refused to cooperate. Those sunset eyes of his found yours, captivating in every sense of the word, and he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it tenderly. 

“I know.” He whispered. “I know.”

But he didn’t. How could he, when you had taken so long to figure it out yourself? He looked at you so lovingly that it made your chest hurt, and you let out a shaky sigh, overwhelmed by how ardent your feelings for him were, how real and messy and intense. You felt like a lone ship out at sea, but Caleb was that lighthouse in the distance, leading the way back home. He was the sun high up in the sky that brightened your days, coaxing you out of the dark and into the light, and you’d gladly burn just for the chance to stay close to him.

And so when your lips met and your thighs straddled him once more, there wasn’t any teasing. He smiled into the kiss and cradled the back of your head as you descended further into the darkness, into your feelings and into him.

The sun was rising. 

Early morning breeze slipped through the gaps in the windows of his balcony, but you barely felt the chill, focused on the way the glass reflected your figures. The slowly brightening sky made it seem as if both of you were bathed in a warm glow, and with how you were leaning back against him, you felt that glow within, too. You traced the outline with your finger, feeling the condensation catch and drag, dripping down the window panes. 

Caleb pulled you back into his arms, lying down with you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. You settled on your stomach and propped yourself up on your elbows. In the hazy morning light, you took a moment to study him.

“It feels like a dream.”

His gaze was steady when it found yours, his voice soft in an almost awestruck manner. “You dreamed about me before?”

“Of course. I dreamed you called yourself a dummy and promised to follow me around like a little tail.” You couldn’t help letting a quip slide now that the heat from just minutes ago had subsided. Now, you were clad in his shirt, the very same one he had discarded so eagerly, and he had on pants, but was shirtless. You reached out and touched the dog tag pendant of his necklace, toying with it between your fingers. 

Caleb was a man of his word; you always knew that, but you had learned just how determined he could be that night. As promised, he remained entangled with you all night, until your joint gasps and moans of pleasure had imprinted in your memory. It was the culmination of all those years of waiting, hoping, and wanting so hopelessly, and he showed you all of it. You let him, digging your heels in the dirt and refusing to run away anymore. 

He scoffed in amusement, trailing his touch upward and gently massaging your shoulder blades. He looked so lovely like this, dishevelled hair and cheeks flushed pink from the exertion of your earlier activities. A choked-up feeling invaded your throat as you got serious, dropping the pendant.

“I also dreamed that your signal was lost in a tunnel. There was only darkness, nothing else…” Your eyes hardened as you thought back to your fear of losing him and how badly the explosion had shaken you. Part of you didn’t know why you were bringing this up again, but the other half made it crystal clear: all that grief and fear was a fundamental stepping stone in your relationship with him. In order to admit it, you had to let it all out. “And then….I couldn’t find you anymore.”

Your voice was small and unrecognisable. You interlaced your fingers together and swallowed the lump that was steadily building in your throat. You felt him shift a little closer, closing his larger hand around both of yours and squeezing.

“That day will never happen.”

His touch was comforting, the motion of his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand bringing you an inexplicable sense of peace. “Losing signal, not being able to see what’s around me– none of that matters.” He dipped his head closer to yours, his lips curving upwards just slightly. “My flight path is in your hands, and I already know my destination before I take off.”

His voice was soft, like he was afraid to speak any louder lest it break you. Your breath caught, lower lip quivering at how sweet he was. You were speechless, but that was okay, because he wasn’t done. “There’s only one place I want to reach. It doesn’t matter what obstacles stand in my way.”

Caleb lifted one of your hands, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and you almost fucking cried from how tender the action was, the emotion in your chest practically bursting out of it. Then, he pressed your palm against his heart and whispered, despite him and you being the only two people around, so reminiscent of the way he’d let you in on secrets when you were children.

“Its coordinates have been recorded here a long time ago.”

How had he dissolved all your lingering anxiety so easily? It felt as if he had caught it and tucked it out of your sight. Suddenly, you felt light again, and everything you had been trying so hard to say burst forth. Keeping those feelings to yourself for any longer would drive you crazy, and you needed him to hear them coming from you straight. 

“I love you.” 

The three words tumbled out of you gracelessly, but that imperfection made it real. Your vulnerability made your voice tremble, but you didn’t care, and neither did he. You saw the light in his eyes brighten and his grin widen as he pressed your hand against his chest harder, letting you feel how his heart sped up. 

You had called him the sun, but if he was the sun, then to Caleb, you were the moon. Incandescent, radiant, beautiful and for the longest time, it truly did feel like he had been chasing you through the skies, only to have to settle with glimpses at interludes and intervals when the evening reigned. Having to keep his love for you to himself during the day and letting it breathe during the night, when no one could see it in the dark. Now, those two celestial bodies collided, and the result was a supernova.

And it was as easy as breathing for him to say: “I love you, too.”

A watery giggle left you as you leaned forward and rested your head on his shoulder, nuzzling against him. He turned his face, resting his cheek against your forehead for a couple of seconds.. 

“I didn’t get to make a wish before blowing out the candles at the restaurant. Can I make one now?”

A perplexed look took over your features, and he had to resist kissing the furrow of your eyebrows away. “You had your eyes closed for so long, but you didn’t make a single wish?”

Although you were making fun of him for it, you got to your feet and padded to the kitchen, ignoring the soreness between your legs as you grabbed a cupcake. Finding a candle, you inserted it on top and lit it, before making your way back. As you plopped down, you asked, “Do you want me to sing ‘happy birthday’ again?”

He sat up and shook his head. “No, it's okay. I already know what I wanna wish for.”

Caleb cupped your hands that held the cake, leaning forward. The flame on the candle flickered as your only witness to this precious moment, and his infectious smile spread to you. You could see yourself grin in the reflection of his eyes, and it only made you smile wider, subconsciously leaning in as well. 

“I wish we’ll always fly under the same sky and be in each other’s lives.” He glanced at the candle. “And I’ll wish that every year, I’ll follow these coordinates on this day as I venture through the darkness. All because they’ll lead me back to you.” 

You were beaming when he blew the candle out, eyes shining with how deliriously happy you were. It was a look that, up until this point, he had only ever seen in his dreams. Placing the cupcake down, you drew closer and settled into his arms again. It was a new day, his birthday was over, and he was a year older, but none of those changes were the ones that mattered. This was the only one that did.

“In that case,” you whispered, nose brushing against his as you looked into his eyes. “I’ll wait for you to find me every year.”

The sun had risen, and for the first time, Caleb didn’t have to wake up.

fin.

[nikkilbook]

Oh, also also!

Anti and JJ. There are parallels in their canon appearances, since both were originally introduced in Halloween pumpkin-carving videos, and JJ’s video glitched a few times, particularly after he cut his hand/finger with a knife. I think he may have gotten the classic OG!Anti black eyes a few times, as well as threatening the audience with a knife? Tradition holds that he was yoinked by Anti immediately after that video, whether to be tortured, brainwashed, or to return to his ally’s side should he have been evil. Some people thought he was actually Anti in disguise, or was possessed by Anti. I can’t remember JJ’s original video super clear, so I can’t remember if he disappears at the end of the video or not. Seán’s done disappearing acts like that in other videos.

JJ’s muteness/nonverbalism. I’ve seen it both as a product of him being the embodiment of a silent film character, and having magical subtitle cards that pop into existence, and as him having had his throat cut by Anti, a la Say Goodbye. I’ve also seen it as a congenital condition, where his vocal chords are just borked for some reason, and as the result of some other throat injury/trauma, like throat cancer or something else requiring surgery. I don’t know that I personally have seen it as a symptom of a neurodevelopmental thing like autism, but I’m sure it’s out there. He does mouth the words “help me” along with his sign in JJJJ, for whatever that’s worth.

We have confirmation that JJ is/was at some point held against his will, possibly in his puppet show booth (see the JAMESON JACKSON’S JOLLY JAUNTS video, Halloween 2019, which is where he asks for help in ASL/BSL—probably BSL, but the sign is the same in both languages). The puppet theme seems to align with the puppeteer!Anti theory, but I don’t recall anything in that video that explicitly references Anti, except maybe a reference within the puppet show to a demon?

The JJJJ puppet booth had the card suite symbols on it, same as the ones drawn on Marvin’s mask. This led to some theories that Marvin was actually the one keeping JJ trapped, whether to keep him safe from Anti, or to keep others safe from him.

We don’t know how long he’s been in that booth, but a common theory is that, whoever is keeping him there, they stuck him in immediately after his appearance on Halloween 2017.

JJ’s time powers. I think he looks at a pocket watch/fob watch at some point in the OG video, but this theory seems to have been built primarily around the fact that both of his videos are in black and white, mimicking old silent films from the early 20th century, complete with caption cards, as well as the way that he and Jack’s “universes” seemed to collide and/or overlap one another, as the video began with Jack getting ready to do another pumpkin when he seems to sense something going weird. In the moment of the switch, you could see film strip frames, like a movie projector that wasn’t quite up to speed yet, and Jack and JJ both had their arms up and flailing, like they were falling and trying to grab onto something. So I’ve seen JJs with time powers, sometimes his watch being a focus item of some kind, and I think I’ve also seen him with like, movie powers, almost, like he can cut and splice time the way you could a film strip, or pause/rewind/fast forward.

Henrik’s field/discipline/specialty. In his OG appearance, where he was playing a game of tabletop Operation, his name comes up as Henrik Von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS. The general assumption is that he’s some kind of surgeon, given Operation and the implication that he saved Chase, but Operation is kind of full-body, and Chase would have required him to be some kind of neurosurgeon, given it was a shot to the temple. KJSE would have also required a full-body knowledge, since it involved system failures across the whole body. People also have him being Jack’s primary physician during his coma, which is ANOTHER specialty. On top of this, our most recent Henrik sighting had him working frantically in a dark room, with a desk covered in papers, with a computer screen showing what sort of looked like, to me, the time vortex from Doctor Who. I think there were also visible equations that had something to do with time. (IRIS also seems to have had something to do with research time travel). So generally, people seem to have Henrik as both a medically-capable doctor and doctor of the sciences, possibly of something like theoretical physics. With all the different specialties, he likely has multiple MDs and PhDs. He’s usually the smartest person in the room, and he knows it (see that “MVP, FFS” bit).

JJ being British instead of Irish! He seemed to use old-timey British slang in his videos, and Seán said he was supposed to be kind of like Charlie Chaplin, who was an English silent film actor (hence JJ’s mustache). I’ve only ever watched like half a Septicart video, so I have no idea if JJ is canonically British, or if that’s still just fanon.

Anti’s connection to/power over cameras. Evidence includes the glitches in videos and thumbnails, the Overnight Watch (ominous CCTV video feed array), the way he directly addresses the audience and calls them out for “just watching,” and the IRIS mega video (again with the ominous CCTV footage). I’ve seen several stories where Anti seems to horde technology, being able to travel through it or see through camera lenses or even using them as resting places when he is forced to be incorporeal after using too much power. And obviously, there’s everyone’s favorite mega-fic that has us as the audience watching and interacting with the characters through Anti’s cameras. Cough cough, wink wink @my-brothers-corrupted

Anti also hijacked the Tumblr posts that introduced the different parts of the 2019 Ego Art Weeks, changing words around or bolding things or adding zalgo effects and declaring it “Anti Art Month.”

Also because of the potential technokinesis/technomancy above, Anti is often pitted against Jackie with his deep web/hacker skills.

Anti being able to possess people? He seems to influence the behavior of Jack, JJ, and Henrik in Say Goodbye, both of JJ’s videos, and Kill Jacksepticeye. However, it’s not 100% clear in SG whether the body is Jack possessed by Anti, or an Anti who is a doppelgänger for Jack. There are the snippets of aberrant behavior for JJ, but in JJJJ that could be the effects of conditioning rather than possession, assuming he’s been locked up for the two years (our time) between the videos. There is a moment near the end of the video where we see JJ with literal strings around his wrists and possibly his neck, a la a marionette. With Henrik it’s a little more like possession, because (meta) the game allows you to either order tests and try and save the patient, or introduce pathogens and such to sabotage and kill the patient, and Henrik seems to blackout every so often to reveal that Jack has gotten worse. There’s also a moment where it jumps to Henrik pulling a cable away from his neck, confused as to how it got there, so Anti is controlling at least Henrik’s physical movements, but whether that be from within him, meat-suit style, or from without, puppeteer style, it’s unclear. IIRC, when Anti appears at the end to call us out for “just watching” and give the “I am eternal”/“I am a turtle” line, he hijacks the feed and appears as the Jack doppelgänger with the slitted throat, as opposed to speaking out of Henrik’s mouth.

Also. The turtle line. Combined with the possession aspect, Anti is sometimes depicted as being able to/being forced to bodily possess animals, or being capable of shapeshifting into an animal or other people (hence the doppelgänger theory). In the IRIS mega video, during the cycling CCTV shots that intersperse the Chase interviews, a hallway is shown a few times. As you get further into the video, you see a turtle just moseying down the hallway. This turtle may or may not be Anti.

The thing about the audience giving the characters power/life force vs forgetting them and causing them to fade. During the lead up to Say Goodbye, at least specifically within the month of October, Jack did a thing where, whenever he came across the word “Anti” in a game, he’d be like “Ooh, you know what that means—” and then move on with the game. When Say Goodbye came around, Anti said something about the audience calling his name. In KJSE, when it seemed like there was no hope, Henrik reached out to the camera and begged the audience to save Jack, and in JJJJ, JJ’s “help me” sign is directed to the audience. There’s also the 2019 Ego Art Weeks, where us asking about why the schedule didn’t include Anti and why the posts seemed to imply he wasn’t there, etc., seemed to summon him and cause him to hijack the end of the event.

i have seen people put together some background canon info about the egos and their appearances over the years, which is awesome and a huge feat, but I just wanted to compile some popular headcanons and fanon interpretations that might be relevant if someone new was trying to get into the fandom, or even that we may see references for in new canon. it's our CULTURE okay??

Chase having two kids: when Sean released CHASE he announced that Chase canonically has/had one child, but in Chase's original video he referred to Stacy taking the "kids," which lead to the popular interpretation that Chase had two young children. you might still see this around

Henrik's backstory: likewise, Sean used to make occasional references to Henrik having an ex-wife and possibly kids. some people consider this canon and others don't, because it was just in random gameplay vids, but you might see it referenced

Anti is a turtle: an OG ego meme. when Anti says "I am eternal" in Say Goodbye, it sounds like "I am a turtle." Sean saw this and reacted to it in a vid, and now there are occasional turtle references

Queer egos: obviously this is tumblr and queer headcanons abound. in my experience, the most popular interpretations include Jackie being trans and Marvin being mlm. you will see this frequently in the fandom

JJ's mutism: JJ first appears in a silent video with captions like an old-time movie, but Sean didn't confirm that he has mutism until later, and also incorporated British Sign Language in his most recent video. older portrayals of JJ - or less inclusive ones - might not feature his mutism. additionally you may encounter a variety of magical or practical aids to help him communicate. oh, and you might also hear JJ called Dapper Jack - we were the ones who named him Jameson Jackson!

Eye color: throughout the years the glitches that suggested Jack might be making ego content frequently featured changes in his eye color. Sean has had brown, green, pure black, and mismatched eyes on different occasions. it's unknown if these correspond to particular egos, but Anti has appeared with green, blue, and black most frequently

Henrik being tortured for nine months: after Henrik was attacked by Anti during a video, Jack posted a bloodied postcard depicting a beach in Germany. this lead to the popular conception that Henrik was taken by Anti and may have been tortured by him. the length of time between seeing him again was nine months

Jack in a coma: this is more canon than fanon, but we've been saying that Jack's been in a coma for years and years now, pretty much since Anti first got his hands on him. Jack later had a voiceover in a video where Chase told Jack he needs him to wake up.

shipping: some of the most popular ships include Marvin/Jackie and Chase/Henrik. you'll also see some Darkiplier/Anti. although the egos all look the same, there's no canon suggestion that any of them are related at this time.

friendships: Chase canonically refers to Jack as his friend, and the fact that Henrik tried to help save Jack has led to the popular conception that he and Chase at least know each other, and are possibly friends too. the others? no clue. oh except maybe probably Anti is holding JJ captive who knows

Phoenix Marvin: Jack once referred to Marvin as a phoenix from the ashes in a tumblr post and we all lost our minds about it. great motif. and of course he wears the cat mask, so you'll see a lot of Marvin with cats or being able to turn into a cat. his magical powers are not canon yet, so you'll see a huge variety, as well as magic or superpowers for other egos too

please feel free to add on to this!! I'm curious what would stand out to everyone else if they were trying to share the fanon with someone new

[inseobts]

Captain’s Orders (Even the Silly Ones!)

luffy x gn!reader

because his captain’s orders are actually for the silliest reasons

words count: 1.2k

tags: fluffy, sfw, humour, gender neutral

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The sun hangs high over the Thousand Sunny, casting warm rays over the deck as the crew goes about their daily business. It’s a relatively peaceful day—no marines, no sea kings, no sudden ambushes. Just the sound of waves and seagulls filling the air.

Which means it’s the perfect time for your captain, Monkey D. Luffy, to start handing out ridiculous orders.

Standing at the ship’s railing, Luffy puffs out his chest and grins wide “Alright, everyone, listen up!” he announces, hands on his hips.

Zoro, who is in the middle of his nap, cracks one eye open “What now?”

Luffy ignores him and points dramatically at you “Y/N! As your captain, I order you to give me a kiss!”

You blink “That’s… not how captain’s orders work.”

“It is now!” he declares.

The crew collectively sighs. This is nothing new.

Robin chuckles behind her book “He does have the authority, technically.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway “Fine...” Stepping forward, you place a quick peck on his cheek. Luffy beams like he just won a fight against an admiral.

“That’s the spirit!” He turns to Sanji next “Oi, Sanji! Captain’s orders! Make a cake for y/n!”

Sanji flicks his cigarette “You do realize I would’ve done that anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun if it’s an order.” Luffy snickers.

Sanji sighs but heads to the kitchen nonetheless “At least he has good taste in orders.”

Nami crosses her arms, smirking “Luffy, shouldn’t you be giving real orders?”

Luffy tilts his head “These are real orders!”

“No, I mean actual captain stuff! You know, navigating, battle strategies, anything remotely useful?”

Luffy gasps as if she just suggested something absurd “That sounds boring.”

Franky walks past, adjusting his sunglasses “Honestly, I kinda respect it. Most captains would be barking orders about ship maintenance, but this guy? Priorities.”

“EXACTLY!” Luffy shouts, fist-pumping “See, Franky gets it!”

Chopper giggles “So what other ‘important’ orders do you have, Captain?”

Luffy taps his chin in thought before his eyes light up “Brook! Captain’s orders! Play a song so y/n and I can dance!”

Brook laughs “Yohoho! Of course, Captain!” He grabs his violin and starts playing a lively tune.

Luffy immediately grabs your hands, spinning you around the deck. “C’mon, y/n! This is fun, right?”

You laugh, stumbling slightly as he twirls you “Okay, okay, but you’re supposed to let me lead sometimes!”

“Nope! Captain’s orders—I get to lead the dance!”

Zoro groans, rubbing his temple “I swear, this idiot is impossible.”

Usopp sighs, sitting on a barrel “I don’t know why we even act surprised anymore. Hey Zoro, wanna dance?”

The ridiculousness continues for the rest of the day.

At dinner, Luffy slams his hand on the table “Captain’s orders! Everyone eats dessert first!”

Nami glares at him “Luffy, you always eat dessert first since y/n told you it's their favourite”

“Yeah, but now it’s an order!” He grins before stuffing his face with cake.

Later, when you’re sitting at the bow of the ship enjoying the breeze, Luffy plops down beside you and rests his head on your lap. He looks up at you with that signature playful grin “Hey, y/n”

“Hm?”

“Captain’s orders.” He pokes your cheek “Be happy forever.”

Your heart melts a little at that one.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair “Aye aye, Captain.”

The days pass with Luffy continuing to abuse his “captain’s orders” for the silliest reasons. At this point, the crew has learned to just roll with it—or, in Zoro’s case, ignore it completely.

Today, the Sunny is gliding across calm waters, and the sun is blazing. Too hot to train, too hot to run around, and too hot to do anything productive. Everyone is lazing around in the shade, enjoying a rare, peaceful afternoon.

Then, Luffy stands up suddenly from where he’s been sprawled out on the deck “ALRIGHT, CREW! NEW CAPTAIN’S ORDERS!”

The reactions are immediate.

Zoro groans, rolling over onto his side to pretend he’s asleep. Nami rubs her temples like she already has a headache. Sanji exhales a long puff of smoke. Usopp leans back against the railing, looking mildly concerned.

You sit up from your spot beside him “What is it this time?”

Luffy points dramatically at the sky “It’s too hot. Captain’s orders—everyone in the water!”

Robin raises a brow over her book “That’s just called going for a swim, Luffy.”

“Yeah, but this way, it’s official,” he argues.

Franky grins “Well, can’t argue with that. LET’S GOOOO!” He cannonballs straight into the sea, sending a massive splash over the deck.

Brook laughs “Ah, I’d love to join, but I’ll drown!”

“Just float in a barrel or something!” Usopp suggests.

Chopper looks hesitant “I guess I could use a break…”

“I will not be getting my hair wet” Nami says firmly.

Sanji is already setting out towels “I’ll get drinks ready for when you guys get back.”

Luffy turns to you and grins “Y/N! Captain’s orders—you have to jump in with me!”

You shake your head with a laugh “Luffy, you can’t swim.”

“That’s why you’re coming with me!” Before you can argue, he grabs your hand and leaps off the ship, taking you down with him.

The water is a refreshing shock against your skin. When you surface, gasping, Luffy is already grinning like a fool “See? This is fun, right?”

You splash water at him “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.” He laughs, flailing his arms to stay afloat “Now hurry up, I’m gonna drown.”

You sigh but swim over, letting him cling to you like a koala.

“Oi, Luffy, stop abusing y/n as a flotation device” Usopp calls from the deck.

“It’s fine. Captain’s orders” Luffy replies smugly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You shake your head but smile, letting him hold on.

That night, after dinner, the crew is gathered on the deck under the stars. The sea is calm, and Brook is playing a gentle tune on his violin. It’s peaceful—until Luffy decides to disrupt it.

“Captain’s orders!” he suddenly announces “We’re having a cuddle pile!”

A collective groan echoes around the deck.

“No way in hell” Zoro says immediately.

Nami pinches the bridge of her nose “Luffy, not every order has to be something dumb.”

“Yes, it does” he insists. Then he turns to you with a grin “C’mon, y/n! Captain’s orders—you have to cuddle me!”

You sigh, already used to this, and pull him down beside you. He immediately wraps his arms around you like an octopus.

Robin chuckles “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in following this order.” She sits down beside Nami, and soon, Chopper is curling up between them.

Brook lies down on the deck “I have no body heat, but I’ll participate in spirit.”

Usopp grumbles, but even he leans against Franky.

Zoro, of course, remains at a distance with his arms crossed.

Luffy sighs happily, nuzzling into your shoulder “See? Best captain’s order ever.”

You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it” he repeats, grinning up at you.

You roll your eyes but kiss his forehead “Yeah, yeah. Captain’s orders.”

[slowd1ving]

Kim Dokja with a Sung Jinwoo!Reader and their supporting constellation is Six-Eared Macaque

BAKHT ⁺ ✦ KIM DOKJA

"An existence as lonely as yours... chance has not been kind to you, it seems." It was neither choice nor good fortune that flung you into the rift that divided worlds: suspended in a limbo not of your own making, in a world with no dungeons like yours but 'scenarios' instead. Only the Story reaching its [◼◼◼] and you protecting the protagonist would guarantee your return, but how were you supposed to do that when the 'protagonist' you were meant to protect kept dying? honestly it's been a while since I read both solo levelling and orv so the plot is a bit hazy. I told myself to focus more on the actual interaction so it wouldn't snowball into storybuilding like the rest of my works... but alas... honestly this ask was extremely interesting like I've never read journey to the west but a sung jinwoo/six eared macaque collab??? damn me when I focus on tense first encounters rather than the lovey dovey aspect of relationships.. jokes aside it does get somewhat soft at the very end fun fact bakht refers to fortune in arabic, or rather finding luck in 'chance'; which unfortunately our reader doesn't seem to have a lot of... art by @ 1L9l2Aa8UCL0IGJ (blackbox) on x! pairing: kim dokja + sung jinwoo gn reader warnings: canon typical danger, mentions of death, also they're not really on the best of terms initially?? quite graphic depictions of blood wc: 2.7k

ORV MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Tonight, the wind carried only premonition in its whispers. It started like all the stories did—the ones that reached your ears, at least. Beginning as a gentle breeze, the songs twining past and future turned coarse as a gale once they encountered the pixelated appendages that seemed to have a life of their own: six downy auricles that were unable to decide whether to stay in the virtual realm or materialise themselves. 

Most of the time, they hid in the umbrous kingdom—much like the rest of your shadows. When you donned the façade of the humans from Planetary System 8612, the tales you could eavesdrop on were mere gossip slinking in from the future and the bygone past—tidbits of paltry information that were perhaps divine retribution for not proudly donning the Six-Eared Macaque’s ‘crown’, as he seemed to put it. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, the mellifluous litany of your flute was sharper than usual as you idled the time away. Tonight, with only the vast night shielding you and the countless shadows skulking on the rooftop, their dance appeared wilder. There was frenzy in the air, and prophecy tainting the cold, canorous wind. 

It tasted acerbic. 

‘Danger… horizon…. Dokja….’

The frequency soured the melody that brushed past the fur of your six-ears, and they flicked, irritably. 

[The Fake Monkey King warns of something afoot.]

“I know,” you bitterly commented. Something was always afoot when it came to this world in which you did not belong. Falling past the veil separating a dungeon from nothingness wasn’t meant to happen. Your system subsequently trapping you in this limbo until you reached [◼◼◼◼◼], too, wasn’t meant to happen either. Let the Story run its course and protect its ‘protagonist’, and this dimension will naturally collapse just enough that you’ll fall through back into yours. 

Kim Dokja, you’d repeated like a mantra while you lost your mind—over and over while your system glitched and protested in this limbo. Over and over, while he died and died and died some more. You’d bought and earned and fought for various potions, weapons and clothes to help him with his scenarios—leaving them in his vicinity where you knew he’d stumble across them—but it was all so fucking futile. 

Each time, he returned past the veil; each time, you sank into a deeper mire of restriction. You hadn’t spoken to another soul in months: imprisoned in the very shadows you controlled. It wasn’t as bad, initially: you could still talk to people uninvolved in the ‘Story’, the poor souls dubbed as extras—so long as you didn’t cause any ripples with your actions. If Dokja was accounted for through both the soldiers in his shadow, and the whispers that reached the six ears that fanned out behind your head, it would be fine. 

‘Hazard… kilometre north of Dokja’s camp….’

A kilometre. You’d be quiet. You always were. 

Dokja. Dokja. Dokja. Your face soured as you exchanged places with Beru: ready to silently act as his guardian shadow, though if he was determined to sacrifice himself… Both of you would pay a price.

The silence in the city was razor-sharp and just as deadly, to the point you could hear the ionic buzz of your summoned demonic knives. Their ozonic scent bitterly filled your mouth, which only amplified the acerbic profanities mingling on your tongue as you glanced around for the danger. What danger? You’d be damned before you were sent back to that empty desert to reflect your wrongdoings. There was no chance to gain anything there—just endless time, chipping your sanity away and stirring up derision for the one who couldn’t solve anything without dying. 

Because in the end, both of you would pay the price, and he didn’t even know it. He became a constellation, while you were shackled to a prison that was never of your own making. 

Examining the wreck of this urban landscape that felt too much like the Seoul you knew, you came to the abrupt conclusion that there was nothing. Even when your six-ears flicked this way and that, it was too silent. Not a whisper, nor any trace of danger lingered in this space; such an occurrence was nigh-impossible in the scenario-laden dome of this city. 

[The Prisoner of the G◼◼◼en Headband expres◼◼◼◼ his mistrust.] 

Sun Wukong. A flash of hatred that was not your own wracked your body, complete with a burning envy and something far more insidious than anything you’d ever experienced, 

Crackling messages began interfering with your system screen. You’d only seen this once—when you accidentally intruded on the fringes of the ‘Star Stream’ as an ‘unauthorised one’. An anomaly if you ever saw one. 

“There’s nothing,” you muttered callously, scraping the tip of your blade against concrete ruins. If it had been a false alarm, then it was time to leave before you risked paying the penalty. Your job was simple—keep watch of the ‘protagonist’ from the shadows, and make his life somewhat easier. 

[A nameless constellation argues that advertisements are simply a part of life, and that it’s not a big deal to build suspense.]

That’s weird. The messages were getting clearer, but the warning signs that typically appeared in the system windows weren’t there. 

Your own supporting constellation was far too quiet as you sheathed your knife in the shadow dimension—the darkness cradled the weapon softly before it vanished, though the familiar whish could not soothe the unease that distorted your mind. Never had the six-ears failed to pinpoint hazards, as close to omniscient that they were.

“Got you,” something—someone—whispered from afar, the moment you stepped on the next broken slab of pavement and triggered a tripwire. A paltry toy, golden string that was incandescent in this darkened city, wrapped tightly around your body; right before you were shoved against a concrete wall. “You’re not the only one to see the ‘outcome’.”

Stand down, Igris, you commanded as the stranger continued to press into you; you could sense the turbulent shadows growing even more agitated at your position, though all of them could feel the ease with which you could’ve snapped out of the rope that was no more than a thread. The stream was eerily silent, while the glassy window only you could see kept its cold azure colour—nothing like the glaring scarlet that informed you of your penalty. 

Who is this? 

In the darkness, you made out the shape of a mouth pressed into a thin line. Dark hair partially swept over the stranger’s eyes, while a long white coat draped itself over his shoulders. But it wasn’t the garb, nor was it the features that alerted you of just who this was. 

It was the umbrous cloud of his soul, the very one you’d been tracking all these weeks. 

“Kim Dokja,” you greeted, half-placidly, half in intrigue. If he could bend the rules of life and death to suit him, you supposed that bending some more rules wouldn’t hurt. The interest was quickly replaced by irritation—for this was the very charge that had continuously shackled you to the in-betweens of the Seoul dome. Not quite a human from this planet, nor a monster—just an abominable anomaly that didn’t belong in this ‘Story’ at all. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

There was a polite smile on your face, but he only scoffed in disbelief. “What the hell are you playing at? Who are you? You think leaving all those materials for me to find will somehow increase your chances to survive? Why are you doing this?”

Incredulity laced each syllable. The Ugliest King stared hard at the face of the Shadow Monarch, though he didn’t know it. 

You sympathised, you really did. Having someone trail after you (though he hadn’t mentioned your shadows—did he even notice them?) and leave you useful items might have been convenient to some, but chronic overthinkers (as Beru had reported to you from his shade) wouldn’t see it as such. 

But it wasn’t like you had a choice not to, either. 

“I just want to get back home.” For the first time, there was a hint of the welling annoyance that seeped through the cracks in your courteous expression: in your grinding molars, in the slight squint of your eyes. Babysitting this guy should have never been part of your job.

Don’t affect the story.

You pressed your lips together to avoid the tide of complaints that swept in. Why do you keep dying? Do you know how much it sucks whenever you do? Why the fuck was I put on babysitting duty?

“Just take the things,” you gritted out instead; to which a sharp blade stung the side of your neck. Quick, but not quick enough to pose a true threat to you. “They were annoying to farm, you know that?”

“I never asked for them, nor do I need them to reach where I want to be. You were never in the original— I can’t exactly trust you now, can I?” he scowled—more ill-tempered than Beru had included in his periodic reports. In a mere second, you surged: as fluid and fast as quicksilver, slamming the guy you’d grown to abhor into the cold, harsh asphalt. There was no apology dripping from your lips this time, only a snarling, bloodied grit of teeth when the penalty began etching into your skin as a direct consequence of laying hands on the ‘untouchable’ protagonist. 

Sensing your distress, the six-ears materialised around your face—like they were countering the drip-drip of sanguine that slinked from your nose and onto the shirt of the man beneath you. You watched as you sullied the protagonist you were forced to stay away from—tainted in a way that was sure to finally end you. His dark eyes, too, traced the motion of each crimson rivulet: chest rising and falling desperately as he felt the very real, razor-sharp edge of his own knife lightly against his jugular. 

“Listen, I never asked for this either,” you hissed. “Believe it or not, I too want you to reach the conclusion of this shitshow so I can get back home. You need to stay alive for that. I’ll wait.”

The pressure in your head intensified. 

“I don’t know how you got past the restrictions on me—” Your grip on his shirt loosened as carmine began seeping into the system window. “—but I can’t stay here any longer without repercussions. Neither can I interfere with the story nor escape this hell—” Dark spots began floating in your vision, and the blade sliced into the concrete a hair's breadth away from his neck with a low-resonating chime. Maybe this was your only chance to make your job easier, without the loss of sanity that came with rule-breaking. “—but if you can’t trust me, trust that your accomplishment of your goal will allow me to get back to my own world as a result.”

“Wait–” Your body swayed as you stood, feeling the familiar frequency of the Stream boot up against the fine down of the six-ears. I don’t have time, you wanted to say, but iron was beginning to leave your lips too. 

[The Prisoner of the Golden Headband complains loudly that fraternising with the enemy is a horribly stupid move, pulling out his hair.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire is unsure of this development, and would like to be filled in on this stranger’s connection with the Prisoner of the Golden Headband..]

The Star Stream was… clear. Not filled with static like it had been before, but cogent enough that you could observe each message coherently. 

[The Star Stream has its eyes on you.]

A terrible foreboding surfaced, while your chest constricted with the sudden onslaught of red that assaulted your eyes—a cacophony of warning signs, all targeted at you. 

“What is that?” A hand that wasn’t yours reached for the crimson glow, and you jolted as the cerise shattered: reverting back to the familiar blue interface. The ache in your head, too, vanished—yet the buildup of fatigue was still present in your hazy mind. Though, the only thing you could register was the change in his voice as he observed the screen, an inkling of understanding as he watched the characters fade from existence:

Protect the ‘protagonist’ Kim Dokja. Let the Story run its course, and you will be able to return to your home world. 

{The Fourth Wall quietly observes the remnants of its meal.}

Gone, in a wave of his hand. That same hand, now held out to you as if it hadn’t just erased weeks’ worth of strain from your body: long, deft fingers reaching out to you. You could only stare as the world grew dim around you, as a faint voice brushed past the soft fur of your six-ears. 

‘Error… error… due to unprecedented actions ◼◼◼◼ taken by the protagonist, the system has now… updated to provide for a deuteragonist model… consi◼◼der standby… updating… updating… ◼◼◼◼◼◼   ◼◼◼◼ objective updated… reach the [◼◼◼◼] alongside deuteragonist Kim Dokja to catalyse homecoming.’

“What the hell… did you do?” you slurred. The misguided loathing towards him had dissipated into a tumultuous state of frenzy; you could feel the shadows within stir with the agitation of your mind, though you fought to keep your cards at bay. Rather than the hilt of your familiar sword, you thumbed the worn edge of your flute in a last bid to stay calm. 

“‘Reach the [◼◼◼◼] alongside deuteragonist Kim Dokja to catalyse homecoming’, huh?” The incredulity you felt at him repeating the words that only you ever heard was overshadowed by the bone-deep exhaustion you felt. 

“Was… being honest,” you mumbled for the last time, fully expecting to feel the frigid asphalt as you collapsed and your eyes came to a close. The lingering penalties had finally taken effect, yet you didn’t quite hit the hard concrete like you anticipated. Rather, you collided against a wiry frame that, despite its initial gauntness, was far warmer than anything you’d felt in these apocalyptic weeks. “I might’ve died if I continued interfering.”

“You won’t die.” The words ghosted over your ear as he stared down at the person in his arms who’d been tracking him for weeks. They’d been a constant pain and irritated him to no end, especially with all the gifts he received that he’d never read about in TWSA; and there was nothing he hadn’t read about in TWSA save for the epilogue. “I won’t let you.”

His very headache was now slumbering in his arms, with only the ambition of going home on their mind. 

What a lonely existence. 

Maybe you heard him. Maybe you didn’t. All he knew was that he was crafting an epilogue that would shake this very world to its roots, and perhaps there was a small, you-sized shape cut out just for the person snoozing their little heart out. He had a feeling he had only breached the outermost layer of you; peeling back only the very dermis to reveal someone far too overpowered to compete with most of the dome. 

Dokja’s thumb traced the bloody lines staining your face. You could faintly feel them; then, abruptly, the citrus smell that lingered on him grew sharper. Closer. A soft pressure applied itself to the crown of your head: fleeting, silvery. What was that?

It was everything that had been forcibly taken from you after you were brought past the void. 

With something that was suspiciously close to a smile, your mind drifted away in the arms of someone who both damned you and saved you. 

　⁺ ✦

“If Igris and Yoo Joonghyuk fought, who would win?” 

“Igris,” you answered without missing a beat. There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in your face as you opened your mouth, and it was so strong that he almost believed that your Commander could beat the true ‘protagonist’ of this world. “And if he lost, I’d win for him.”

This! This was his chance to get back at that squid bastard! 

“...Want to test your hypothesis?”

[bbrainr0t]

For when you flower III

Masterlist

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x Greek!woman/reader x Emperor Geta

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, hints of PTSD/bad mental health, imbalance in the relationship (sexism, oppression, etc.), toxic, violence, mentions of blood, death, and slavery

Tags: Enemies to lovers (?), slow burn (?), triangle drama/love (but no incest!!), unhealthy/toxic dynamics, slave x masters, no use of y/n, 1st person narrative

Summary: The senate calls and Caracalla drags his new pet along. It all seem so harmless, but not in the eyes of his brother.

Word count: 3k

A/N: Seriously thank you guys for all the support. I love answering asks and comments and hearing you guys' opinions. So really, thank you. I am afraid that I cannot stress it enough. Thank. You.

Dictionary for this chapter:

Pithekos = Ancient greek for "monkey" (Pithekon is the accusative form) Operae = Latin - plural form of "opera" which can translate to "business" Kaos = It is what the greek believed happens when the world is out of order (if you were to - for example - act like a god, breaking the 'holy laws' and therefor committing 'hybris') Paidion = Ancient greek for "little child." (but sadly enough also ancient greek for "young slave") Hellas = The ancient greek name for Greece

He says those words with such delight. It’s like a drug to him, intoxicating him time and time again. Rocking from one foot to the other he chirps and sings: “meus flos, meus flos, meus flos!”

It’s been like this ever since he woke up from his slumber. His mood had changed from erratic to ecstatic. But still, he is but a child dressed in the skin of a man. There is both so much and so little to him. It sort of pains me to watch him like this. An unfamiliar woe in my seas of troubles. I try to drown it.

He arranged so I would have some bedding on the floor, not far from his bed. Some thrown straws packed neatly into a rectangle, covered by a sheet and some fur.

When we entered his chambers at night, there wasn’t much to see. The sun had gone down and the moon was out of sight. I was left to wonder and fear in the shadows; no sleep came to me. I was afraid of what he might do to me, if I did fall asleep. Yet his touch didn’t feel like filth when he caressed me with such ease. I try to forget.

This is not the emperor, I am watching, that I am sure of. The only thing hinting of such horrifying picture is the room here, shinning in the sunlight. There’s a twinkle of torment.

The bed big enough to fit three people with silk on silk. Marble on the floor, on the ceiling, the walls and the magnificent pillars - taller than any man can reach. There’s a table with papers not only on top but all around like they’ve been disowned and thrown with a violent temper. There are curtains of brown, gold, and white – vases decorating between every supposed opening, guarding the windows like soldiers.

And then there’s him.

Not the child-emperor but a statue of a man, greater of him. The instance I let my eyes ponder in the light, he stood out like a sore thumb.

It’s a man with a big and bushy beard and beautiful, almost black locks falling on top of his marble toga, colored in a golden brown. He holds a staff with two teeth, a bident, proudly but also somewhat stiffened. His muscular arms tense and alert.

At night, the burdened spoke of his name, but not of one of those I know of. He whispered it so quietly: “Serapis.” Not a roman name, but still, he must’ve been either foolish or brave when saying this God’s name.

The God of the underworld.

No mortal man who seeks life should speak of his name. But what respect does the burdened have? I wonder, and I know I probably should not. But the Gods know that I can’t help it.

I am still seated on the bedding and feeling a bit of disarray. A part of me longs for the mystery liquid. I yearn for silence within. I grow sadder of watching the burdened dance before me. I wonder, how long will it take before I become like him?

He grabs at his hair and at his clothes. His feet deciding to take a break as he pats over to a mirror. It looks as if he has a sudden realization that he must tend his body – but only to the extent that he has servants to help. Privileged.

He calls upon aid which shocks my core. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice me. He is too distressed with himself. I’ve never seen a man so lost before.

Women and men come running and I get to watch as he gets pulled apart and put back together. It makes me sick to my stomach.

I grab at my knees and close my eyes. To myself, I mumble a prayer to the Gods above. I will not let go of the hope that they someday will hear me.  It’s oh so fragile, but I know that all it takes is a prayer for a miracle.

In my mother tongue I pray to pull these riches off him. That the gods shall rob him of what he himself has robbed. I pray that the injustice gets undone, and that Apollo guides me to resolve this myself. I will no longer be of bad health, I pray. I will not become mad like him.

“Apollo, you, the god of healing diseases, if there is no guidance to be given then ready your bow to pierce my heart. Show me the true nature.” I hold onto fear as I mumble. I must not feel betrayed just yet.

Lies, trailing down my cheek as tears.

A wind rushes the curtains and the door to the room opens abruptly, followed by hurried steps. The sight I meet when I once more open my eyes is no miracle. It’s the other one.

“Caracalla, you’re missing the meeting with the senate. It’s disrespectful of you to be absent.”

This one bears a crown and is less fattened in his cheeks. His face is less glassy and more rigid with a deep line between his brows. They have the same hair, but two so distinctive faces. His eyes are tinted black and brown with all seriousness. He bears garments of royal colors. The color of the sea and the color of the sun.

He bears a crown like Apollon.  

“Brother!” Caracalla cheers and smiles widely, revealing a golden tooth that I hadn’t noticed yesterday. He opens his arms, supposedly greeting his brother by showing off. He is wearing the proper clothes but no crown. The color of blood.

Something clicks inside of the other, because he barely opens his mouth before he forces it close and clenches his fist tightly, knuckles white. He forces his eyes closed before sighing heavily. This is no brother, but a caretaker, stressed as revealed by the many wrinkles on his face. No white paint can cover the burden, he must bear. The burden of the dead and the burden, taking form of his brother. Or so he is signaling.

I remain quiet to try and stay invisible.

“Let’s go.” The other, who’s name I’ve forgotten, sighs.

I don’t need to know his name, I know what he has done.

“Can I bring my new pet? I call her flos.” Caracalla refers to me. The other now knows of me. But my name is taken and replaced.

“I do not care what animal you drag along with you.”

“She is NOT an animal!” The burdened snaps, his mask dropped completely. He has stepped closer to his brother, pointing at his chest.

“I DO NOT CARE!” The other yells back, spitting in Caracalla’s face. The veins in his neck almost popping. His fists now whiter than the makeup on his face. He bares his teeth like a lion while drawing a quick breath. “Get yourself inside the hall. NOW.” He pokes Caracalla’s chest before storming out.

The burdened is left to stand there shocked. A tear in his eye that he is quick cover as he removes the spit from his face. “I hate him.” He claims.

Caracalla spots me once again and he sighs, almost shallowly. “Do not listen to such a man, meus flos. He is no good.” Then he says something, I do not understand. “Come. Stand.”

I refuse to show that I do understand. The last thing I want is to be his pet.

“Come on.” The impatience shows on his restless fingers. Something in me calls me to hold them. I am once again conflicted. What is happening to me? I stand up slowly.

He examines me before calling over others to help me. With standing. With my clothes. My looks. They decorate me. Touch me. A panic grows. But they are quick to be gone again.

“Better.” He grabs my wrist and drags me with.

As I walk, I hear jewelry jingle. Not his. But mine. I’m wearing their blood. The pain. It feels as if the gold burns into my skin. They are chains of slavery. Bondage to suppress me and yet they complement my skin so beautifully. It’s a beautiful irony. I yearn for freedom, for death. I see my brother and I see his blood. Maybe he is in this gold or maybe it’s the Gods.

They killed him. Right now, I don’t know if it’s the Gods or the twins. Right now, I fear both. But right now, one is more righteous than the other. I do not know which one.

My blood is boiling beneath Caracalla’s touch. I pull my hand, and he lets go. He’s caught up in his head or maybe he is not. He cares, does he not?  I see my brother in the reflection of his earrings. The lifeless limbs. I do not see the romans; I only see the roman who’s showing my brother. All the symbols are melting into one another.

We walk into a big hall, filled with old men, with filth, and with a stench of death and intensity. It’s those who they call the senate. The dead dream, the Romans call the Republic.

They stare.

“My emperor.” One of them bows and Caracalla lifts his chin proudly, giggling as if he didn’t just shed a tear, one hand over the other. “Accompanied by…?”

“My new pet.”

I hate how proud he looks, flashing his golden tooth. All grief gone from his face. I hate how that comforts me. His smile is holding me upright, hollow is my heart.

I spot the other as he spots me. His eyes widening and yet he looks as if understands. I do not know what. An anger rages in the dark orbs that is his eyes.

“Does she speak?”

Caracalla steps aside and looks at me. He doesn’t seem to know either. Maybe he wonders the same. They do not even know my name.

“She does not.” The other speaks. “She’s mute. You know, how women and pets are supposed to be.”

It’s the first time that I am grateful for him. And hopefully, the last time. The words do not hit as hard as they probably should.

Caracalla clears his throat and nods, agreeing. “Yes. Geta is correct. Flos is mute.”

Of course, his name is Geta.

“What a pretty name. Flos. Like the flores!” The senator tries to encourage this behavior. He acknowledges me and goes back to his seat.

Caracalla shows me to a seat, a bench far away from the assembly, seated next to a dressed pithekos. Like a pet, with a pet.

“Flos, this is Dondus. Now. Behave while I take care of operae.” And so, he leaves me in the company of this tiny animal, eating away. I feel a slight embarrassment.

Following Caracalla with my eyes, I see Geta. He is staring me down with such fury, but he also seems amused by this sight. In him I see the Roman responsible for the death of my brother. The abuse of my land. But he is disguised as a god - Apollon.

I once heard that the Romans truly believed that they, the emperors, were a vessel of the gods. I didn’t believe it at first, because it felt as if it was a nothing but a joke. How would they be the voice of gods, when they do not even seem to experience the agony that they crown the people with? It’s what makes us humans. For there is an order to follow or else kaos will reign – but it just seems that the Romans, the filthy, fit the Gods to their needs. Not the other way around. It’s revolting and distasteful. Disrespectful towards what they claim to be the divine.

They certainly act as if they were Gods. They serve up blood for dinner and expect respect. They bear their crowns and decorate their houses with their furniture. They claim the things that they want and expect people to deliver.

Perhaps they remind me too much of the Gods. However, they are present, my Gods… seem not to be. No, I must not think of such foolishness.

I mutter another prayer. This time for just a sign for them to be present. The pithekos nibs at me but I do not pay it any attention. I pray for a clear sign – for light to disappear, so I can hide in the shadows, and they can light a little candle for me. “Help me, hear me, Apollon, bring darkness over this house, so I can see your light once again.” Yet I’ve never seen it before, but I do not stop my praying. I am desperate, truly desperate. Thoughts about the misplaced empathy towards the burdened slightly disturbing me, so I pray them to take it away. I hope.

And after a while, it darkens. My eyes are closed, and no light seems to shine through my eyelid. A spark ignites inside my heart, turning to a flame. I pray a little more intensely. I feel a presence other than the pithekon. My chest burns.

“What darkness do you seek?” It’s spoken in my mother tongue but broken. It’s a stern voice as I would imagine but so furious.

I quiver. “Darkness over Rome.”

There is a dark and deep laughter. I feel my hands being grabbed and my body thrown towards the floor. My hip slammed towards the cold and hard floor beneath. I hear the pithekos shriek. The jewelry as well. I catch my head before it hits the floor. My fire distinguished. I open my eyes, full of fright, and look up to see the other, Geta. His eyes filled with hatred and dusk. His jaw sharp, but not as sharp as the blade he looks to be pulling from his belt.

“NO!” The burdened Caracalla yells. He jumps to my defense and pushes Geta. He saves me.

It visibly shakes Geta to his core. Something, he hadn’t expected. At the sight of his brother, he removes the blade out of sight, showing that there’s still a part of him that cares. A part of him that is human.

It is there I shall strike, when I get the chance.

“She’s practicing idolatry, brother.” He speaks Latin once more and steps up to his brother, clearly the one with the overhand. They bicker and spit.

First, I wonder how he knows of my mother tongue, then of how dare he, the filthy, use it against me and the gods. And then I fright of the chance of the assembly’s judgement, and what this judgement would lead to. Torture? Death? Or worse.

“You lie, you said, she was mute.” Caracalla corrects Geta. Does he not remember the night? “You are attacking MY pet, MY property – for NO reason!”

“Caracalla-“ Geta furrows his brows so that the line in between becomes darker. “I only said that-“

“You lie! Now leave her alone! Flos has done nothing wrong. She cannot talk.” Caracalla seems to believe his own words so much that he also seems to forget that they weren’t his. He seems so possessive of me. What horrid thing is happening in his head?

Geta seems on the other hand to give up on his brother but not on his anger. He looks at me with such burning fire. It’s like he heard my prayer, like he was tormented by my words. He whispers something to Caracalla that I cannot hear. An order of sorts. And Caracalla looks as if he understands. As if he agrees. I fear.

He turns to me and nods a servant over, who helps me up on my feet against my will. “You are to be escorted back to my room. My brother says you are distracting us.” I hate what that might indicate. What that must mean. My clothes, my body, now infiltrated by filth.

“Apologies, senators.” I hear Geta say. I see him whisper something to a guard.

One of the guards dressed in purple come over and grabs my arm, harshly. “Careful.” Caracalla corrects him. And the guard just nods, his grip not changing any bit.

He escorts me out, but not towards the room from which we come from before. He leads me towards a dark part of the palace. A part which not yet has seen the light of day, where all the dirt is kicked under.

Marble slowly turns to stone. The air thickens. I am led to a room filled with other slaves, but not one dressed like me. I am now the one sticking out like a sore thumb.

The guard leaves me without a word. Confusion strikes as well as discomfort. The others look at me like I am one of them, the romans, and I can not defend myself. My throat is dry like the desert that I seem to be surrounded by. No hope.

But beneath the sand, I hear a familiar voice.

“Thank the Gods, they let you live.”

Mother tongue. It’s the old woman. The woman, which I now believe was sent by Hera. My heart flutters. The world flashes with stars. I cry. And she grabs me. And holds me. It’s like I hear the Gods’ song. The lyre plays with joy. Internal victory.

“I am here now. I have you, paidion.” Her touch is like a mother. I let myself melt into her touch and sob into her shoulder. And I stay like this for a while. For however long she lets me stay there. “There… there…” She pets and undo my hair. Freeing the weight from off my shoulder.

I pull back to look at her face and see how she slightly has livened up. Her cheeks now rosy as her eyes, which are fighting every urge to cry. The dark hides any other imperfection the light before bestowed her. In here she is perfect in every way. She is a mother. A mother of the land, Hellas. I’ve longed for this comfort. I’m home in the shadows.

Next chapter

Taglist: @syraxnyra, @omg-hellgirl, @t6gse370, @duckyhowls, @littlemissholy, @naysha140, @lover-rep-fanfic

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚞𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎

drunken monologues, confused because it’s not like i’m falling in love i just want you to do me no good and you look like you could the look of love, the rush of blood the “she’s with me”s, the gallic shrugs

⤷ denki kaminari x reader

⤷ denki calls reader “ma’am” once as a joke (no pronouns used), brief mentions of alcohol and small descriptions of anxiety, title and lyrics from arctic monkeys’ “no. 1 party anthem”

you didn’t feel like going out tonight. 

you had told denki this much when he barged into your room after you’d declined his million calls, instead finding you buried under a mountain of blankets just a few hours away from midnight on the 31st. 

not the best way to start the new year, he’d pointed out. you had only grumbled, tossing over in your bed and ignoring him. 

you’re surprised he’s not at the party right now. surely everyone else you two know is there, if the pictures mina, sero and kirishima had blown up your phone with were any indication. 

denki nudges your lifeless body and your grumble again, louder this time as he plops himself down on your bed beside you. 

“come onnn, it’s new year’s eve! you can’t go into a new year moping around like this, you need to get out and have some fun!”

unfortunately, he makes a pretty compelling case. it was something stupid that had you in such a bad mood, and getting out would probably do you a great deal of good. but then again, the party…the lights, the crowd, and ugh not even to mention the noise…

it’s like denki can sense your dilemma, the crack in your stubborn attitude, and he jumps at the opportunity to sway you. 

“pleeeaseee, you said you would come!” he whines, tugging on your arm insistently. 

contrary to popular belief, denki is actually very hard to say “no” to. 

you narrow your eyes at him, but you can’t muster up any malice in the face of his big golden eyes. 

you hold out for another couple seconds, internally debating, but he just keeps pouting and you know he won’t leave you alone until you agree and his hands on you are so warm and he’s so infuriatingly cute and—

“ugh, fine!” you groan, pushing him away so he can’t see the way you flush. “go away so i can change!”

“yes, ma’am,” he replies quickly with a cheeky smile. “so bossy.”

the party is in full swing once you two arrive, and it’s not even midnight yet. it’s packed, just like you thought. you stick tight to denki's side as he weaves through the crowd with a smile, ever his charming little self. his body against yours as you clutch his arm is the only one that doesn’t make your skin crawl.

it takes a few drinks to loosen you up, but once the tension has bled from your shoulders you’re out dancing with mina and jirou like it’s nobody’s business. 

you’re not sure at what point denki left your side, but it tugs at the back of your mind that even though you’re enjoying yourself, you kind of miss him. 

you try to shrug the odd feeling off, throwing yourself back into the dancing and the drinking as the music drowns out every thought from your head. 

it’s a good distraction, probably what you needed just about now. not just the dancing, but the party—seeing your friends, getting out of your head. you’d been so down lately, and without good reason, too, which just made you more frustrated. 

it’s good you’re getting it all out there, isn’t it? isn’t this what you’re supposed to do? dance it out, drink it away, crash and sleep it off, then wake up to a new day and start over again? 

someone bumps into you from behind just then, and the hypnotic haze you’ve been wallowing in begins to clear. that claustrophobic feeling is coming back, and suddenly the music is too loud and the people are too close and you find yourself stumbling for the patio door. 

the fresh night air is a godsend and you stand there for a moment, leaning against the sliding glass door and taking in deep lungfuls of it. 

there’s a little couch setup around an empty bonfire pit, and that’s where you drop down to look at the sky as you regain your bearings. 

it’s also where denki finds you when he comes out of the house, eyes alight at the sight of you. it makes your heart jump. 

“hey! i was looking for you just now.”

“yeah, sorry,” you murmur. “crowd was too much, i was starting to feel…urgh, y’know?”

“yeah,” he agrees sheepishly, ambling over. “it was really packed in there.”

he takes a seat beside you, propping his feet up on the brick pit in front of you. 

you feel his golden eyes on you, but you keep your gaze skyward. 

“you okay?” he asks after a minute, carefully nudging his leg against yours. 

your only response is a half-hearted shrug. 

“you wanna go?”

you think about it for a second, the allure of home calling out to you, but the night breeze feels so cool on your warm skin and the steadiness of denki’s body against yours brings you peace. you don’t really want to go. 

“not just yet,” you tell him, letting yourself lean against him more. “do you think…can we stay like this a little longer?”

“yeah. yeah, we can stay as long as you like.” denki opens his arms, letting you kick your feet up on the couch and nestle comfortably into his side. you rest your head on his bicep, surprised by how sturdy the muscle is beneath you. you knew denki was fit—it was impossible not to be in this course—but it’s never something you’ve really thought about. or felt. 

the two of you sit in soft silence, watching as fireworks light up the sky. you can hear denki humming softly to the music still pouring out of the house. it makes you smile. 

the yelling inside the house is getting louder and you check your phone. 11:59. they must be starting the countdown now. 

ten. 

“hey denki?”

“yeah?”

nine. 

“thanks for making me come out tonight. it’s…”

eight. 

“i’ve had a better time than i thought i would,” you admit, toying with his fingers from where his arm is draped gently across your collarbone. 

seven. 

“really? i felt kinda for bad dragging you out when i saw you out here by yourself,” he replies with a nervous laugh. 

six. 

“well, maybe. but ‘m not by myself anymore,” you tell him, allowing yourself a cheeky little smile. you tilt your head back to look up at him, and he’s beaming at you. 

five. 

the fireworks are lighting up his face in the most beautiful colors. even from upside down, denki is probably the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. 

four. 

it’s faint from under all the shouting inside, but you can still hear the music. you love this song. 

three. 

you reach up to trace your fingers gently over denki’s freckles. they’ve faded some in the winter, but they’re still there if you look closely. his hand comes up to intertwine your fingers, holding them to his face.

two. 

you’re leaning in, both of you, like magnets. you let your eyes close as denki pulls you closer, the music and shouting and fireworks fading into the distance as your lips meet his. 

one. 

it’s a long time before you separate, and even longer before either of you even think about getting up from the patio couch. 

“happy new year, denki,” you murmur through a little smile. 

even though you’re both looking up at the sky, you can practically hear the matching smile in his voice. “happy new year.”

i meant to get this out closer to new years, but i’m actually happy with how it turned out either way. denki is so special to me. take care and much love,

- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 ! 🩷🩷

[inc0mple]

The Peris Ravenell Post: why you should read Keys Are People Too for this soggy excuse of a man

This is a lengthy post, which is why I added the… thingy, whatever it’s called… but I promise promise it’s entertaining and it also took me like two days to put together when I’m supposed to be writing Chapter 120. That chapter’s sad, okay, I need to get out the feels by bullying Ravenell some, aight.

I recommend at least scrolling through. Especially if you know nothing about Keys Are People, Too. And also if you do.

Okay, first things first:

THIS IS WHAT PERIS RAVENELL FROM KEYS ARE PEOPLE TOO LOOKS LIKE, OKAY

I have tried to draw him on a multitude of occasions and it's given people misconceptions. He does NOT look like Abraham Lincoln, he does NOT look like a twink, he is NOT a himbo. He's just a stupid perpetually bewildered man. AND THIS IS THE ALWAYS AND FOREVER REFERENCE FOR HIS APPEARANCE

Ok thanks. NOW:

If y'all are on the fence about reading Keys Are People Too PLEASE, READ IT FOR THIS MAN

I HAVE A LIST OF REASONS FOR WHY HE IS THE BEST WORST

Reason 1: He Has Iconic Moments

This man is the most stupid, inconvenient man to ever exist. He is perpetually confused and perpetually confusing. The worst part is he wasn’t even supposed to be, he was supposed to be a background character without hardly any substance. Well he’s still gossamer, in ways, but he has also muscled his way into the plot for no reason other than to DRIVE CHASE CRAZY and provide a character foil to… *checks notes* is this supposed to say “the monkey”???

Someone (me) is unable to track these down at the moment so check the comments for iconic moments (comment your favorite Ravenell moments do my dirty work pleeeease)

Reason 2: We Love To Roast Him

So if you’re in the fan server or the AO3 comments you might not understand this completely, so let me indoctrinate you into the objective best view of Peris Ravenell: in that he is a pathetic, wimpy, soggy man and we love him for it. He doesn’t know how to dance. He doesn’t know how to cook. If his wife actually liked them they would be the epitome of girlboss/boyfailure. He’s like if margarine was a man. “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Better.” Except one look at him and it’s very easy to believe.

These are so easy to rattle off. I could go for hours.

And screw you, maybe I will.

So... yeah. It's the funniest thing ever. That is in fact, fact.

Reason 3: We Ship Him With Tree Guy From "Love Between the Christmas Trees"

If you have not read “Love Between the Christmas Trees” by proseburia on AO3, you are missing out. Not only is it a very well written and funny story, it includes Ravenell’s one, always and forever love, Tree Guy.

His name is Nick. We don’t call him Nick.

Prose’s story revolves around Chase and Deacon going into a Hallmark movie style book, in which they meet Chase’s character’s love interest, Tree Guy—a lumberjack who loves all things to do with Christmas and his hometown. Like Ravenell, Tree Guy is so straight he can hardly turn corners.

Naturally this means we head-canon them as secretly in love forever and ever, the bromance of the century, a duo so dynamic NASA wants to study it.

I even started making fanart of them, but… I stopped. Because I got lazy.

*REMEMBER, RAVENELL DOES NOT LOOK LIKE THIS! HE LOOKS LIKE THE FIRST IMAGE IN THIS POST! DO NOT TRUST ANY OF MY OTHER ART LMFAO

The name for this incredible, very valid ship is Sap Duo. They are called this because tree sap, and also Ravenell as a person is sappy. It’s perfect. They’re perfect. I know.

Also, here’s a link to Prose’s story, if you wanna go read it :3

Reason 4️⃣: He Has Fanart (that Mari made)

Lul. Look at this guy.

Reason 5: The Monkey

Ravenell’s number one nemesis in Keys Are People, Too is a monkey by the name of Jaabu that belongs to Buddy’s character, Lady Spicula. Jaabu hates the duke for no discernible reason and will go to any length to wound the duke’s pride (and sometimes just wound him in general), out of apparent personal enjoyment. She also often seems to embody the audience in their frequent desire to throttle Ravenell, so I’ve been told. (I think it’s loving?)

I illustrated a very good, very effortful depiction of the two’s usual relationship. Please view below. I’m not responding to hate mail for emotional damage over the sheer beauty of this artistic rendition. Please forward it to Jai, they wrote In Sepia after all.

Reason 6: He Is On The UQuiz For Princes (that Mari also made)

A quiz for canon Cinderella Boy Princes… and also one non-canon duke-failure!

Pretty on the nose.

She has also made fanfiction for that man, which is what the illustration is from. I… don’t know if she’s okay.

Reason 7: Flavenell

That’s it that’s the section. @lilliferwashere this one’s for u

Reason 8: He Has Good (?) Reviews

⭐️⭐️⭐️ "3/5 man. Good at fighting, probably, but bad with women most of the time. Very troubled man, so I can't give him too low of a score. That feels too mean. Monkeys are really drawn to him for some reason though and that just seems like a health hazard. To him, mostly" - @leejeann (author of So Shaped By the Chances, Viva La Short King, Notable Anti-Fluddy-er)

⭐️⭐️⭐️"Arrived soggy. Extra star for freeing the slaves — oh wait no that’s Lincoln. Well a four score or better is outta reach for Dukey. Mediocre at best." - @theautumndream (author of A Glitch Apart, Wanted For Several Photoshop Crimes, Lowkey Likenapple)

⭐️⭐️⭐️ "3/5 stars: I broke my leg and he started crying. He was so focused on how much it hurt him emotionally I forgot I was hurt and carried him back to the castle" - @mysteriousmonty (Also Finny (Allegedly), Bookbinding Enthusiast, Art Challenge Perpetuator

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ "5/5 stars: I love him dearly. He's an absolute mess. I hope to get him a job where his actions affect absolutely nothing and no one where he also feels fulfilled." - @jaistashu (author of [Redacted for emotional damage] and some other ones, Certified To Know Your Stuff Better Than You Do, An Honest-to-God Baja Blast To Be Around)

⭐️⭐️⭐️ "In my opinion, he’s just A Guy™. His personality is very wet feeling, but it’s not bad. He tries his best, but he’s also a little… dumb, sometimes. He’s not the most intelligent, as in he has little common sense, but he is trying his best, which I appreciate. Peris Ravenell is a fantastically written character, and I appreciate him and his endless trying his best. He was quick to change his wording to include woman. I very much appreciate that. His upbringing wasn’t the greatest, and I understand that. He’s trying to navigate life without a proper parental relationship. He’s thrown into the world of royalty and dukedom very quickly, and he’s trying his best to navigate it. He’s a mess, albeit a wet mess, but he’s trying, and I appreciate that. Minus two stars for being an uncle’s boy." - @spookieee28 (author of Bed Bath and Hbeyond, Four Theorist, Donut)*

⭐️ "Overscoring him will only make you disappointed. You need to know that his appeal is not in how great he is. He's just a guy in the wrong genre. He's not a hero, he's just a mess. If someone got isekai'd into a murder mystery they had no brains or courage to solve. He just wants to be at the end of the book. He wants everything to be lovely without any effort. And he deserves it. He was born to be everyone's favorite useless uncle. The butt of family jokes but he loves the affection. Like watering the ugliest plant you've ever seen. 1 of 5 Stars. Would you recommend him? Yes." - @xiaomao-ai-wo (author of Unallied Queens, Sticky Note Enthusiast, Either Stalter Or Waldrorf We Aren't Sure)**

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ "Duke Peris “Dukey” Ravenell review:

Duke score: 2/5

He kinda sucks at it. Mostly stands around waiting for Galeus to tell him what to do I think?

Guy score: 5/5

Put this man in a JAR so that I may study him. Simultaneously a carefree goofball and the soppiest, saddest man to have ever existed. Just trying to have a nice time due to being born in Nice Time Land but The Horrors won’t let him. A little misogynistic with it but he pays for his crimes with monkey torture.

Overall score: 4/5" - @proseburia (author of Love Between the Christmas Trees, Lab Rat in Training, Sap Duo Shipper)

⭐️ “Peris Ravenell is as suspicious as a [REDACTED] and just as [REDACTED]. Overly clingy and also overly needy of compliments and acknowledgement. A follower, not a leader. No ability to read a room. At all. Whatsoever. Makes little attempt to think for himself and no attempt to [REDACTED]. Leaves that for [REDACTED] and then wonders why [REDACTED]. Likes [REDACTED], has a temper at times, has a weird thing about [REDACTED]. Enjoys [REDACTED] just to [REDACTED] (they'd already [REDACTED]). Extremely loathed by middle aged etiquette teachers and monkeys. Little man who wants to be a big man when he grows up. 1 star out of 5.” - Shadows_Mirror (author of like half the CB fanfiction on AO3, Registered Dukey Hater, Was Not Told She Could Not Include Spoilers)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ “I want to put this sopping wet beanie baby of a man under a microscope and study him. I hate him and I love him and I hate that I can’t decide which one it is. 5/5” - @lilliferwashere (author of Sunshine and Saccharin, Fluddy’s True Love, Pigeon Handmaid)

*"Canonically married to Deacon" she says. Uh huh.

**It should be noted that both Mari's name and profile picture on Discord are about Duke Ravenell.

In Conclusion

plsplsplsplsplsplsplssss

XOXO, Inco

[flothunderstorms]

GOLDEN TRUNKS

𝑺𝒐 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒖𝒑𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕… 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝑰 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

PART 1. 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏. 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

Warning: Mature content.

Word count: 5.4k

Munich, Germany.

The sound of the click of the heels of my boots seems non-existent as there seems to be chaos going around where I am walking. People ushering with equipment on their hands, wires tangled on the floor, there’s an alive chatter of workers about the show which is about to start in maybe 45 minutes in time.

They all drown the sound of the hard thump of my heart beating seemingly wanting to get out of my chest.

There are knowing looks as I make my way to my destination, a few smiles here and there, and those hushed whispers accompanied by a soft glare that I dread to see every single time.

Yes, I am the girl who frequently sleeps with your boss who is also the lead singer of this band.

I actually don’t know how it happened. I wanna say that one thing led to another that got me in this position, but I know that would be a lie. What really happened? Well, I've been a big fan of the band since Tumblr days and now I got the money to travel. The best way to see the world is to align your itinerary plan based on Arctic Monkeys’ show tour schedule!

It started in Asia. Singapore. Malaysia. Philippines. All beautiful countries, and after I do my sightseeing and tourist stuff in those countries mentioned, I end my day by going to my favourite band’s show at night. I was on the side of the stage. Not the side where families and friends hang around, but I cannot do barricades as that would entail lining up at 5 in the morning to be first in line. I opted for seated sections, which is at the very side of the stage.

Expensive? Yes, but damn worth it.

It was in Osaka, Japan. Something in the air shifted and I sound delusional, but hear me out. First show in Singapore, we made eye contact. Second show in Malaysia, a smile. Third show in the Philippines, I got a smirk plus a wink. But when in Japan, I could feel his gaze on me the whole show.

His eyes were on me the whole night.

It was not the “sexy type” of gaze. Not the “I want you” like those written in books or portrayed in movies. It was a curious gaze. It was a cautious one even? It was a knowing gaze, like “yes, I have seen you 4 times in a row in the exact same seat of my shows, are you stalking me, stranger” kind of gaze.

And I wanna shout that yes my actions scream crazy, but I really am just a big fan with a bit of money to recklessly spend which is on you!

“4 shows in a row? Are we really that bad you have to see me sing four times before you can make a judgment on my ability to perform?”

A figure occupies the vacant bar stool beside me.

It’s Alex Turner from the Arctic Monkeys.

I almost choked on my drink and it seems like all the words I have learnt vanished in my mind.

Get a grip.

“Well, isn’t it supposed to mean the opposite? That you were so good I have to see you again and again?” I try to put on a teasing smile as I place my now empty Martini glass on the bar counter.

“Well you were hardly singing or dancing on the shows. At best, you were furrowing your eyebrows and giving me a hard look the whole 2 hours of the show that made me feel like I’m playing the wrong chords on my guitar,” he said with a mock hurt expression painting his face, clutching his chest for more effect.

“Should I doubt your ability to perform?” I raise an eyebrow with a smile getting bigger each second as soon as I realise the double meaning of my question.

Alex’s brown eyes lit up with mischief and amusement. “Can I show you how I ‘perform’ instead?”

A chuckle breaks out on my lips.

“I’m Alex, by the way,” he extends his hand for a handshake as he properly introduces himself as if I don’t know his full name and birth date.

I take his hand to shake but my name gets stuck on my throat when Alex raises my hand which he is holding and puts a lingering kiss at the back of my hand like a gentleman.

God, his lips feel so soft and I want it on my own, and his hand feels the right rough against mine.

I swallowed the want that is forming in my throat as I try to hold his stare.

“What brings you here, Alex?”

He shrugs while replying, “well, you’re so dark, babe, and I want you hard,” without shyness in his words.

“Did you just quote your own song to me?”

“Is it working?”

I have always dreamt of this moment, what would it be like to talk with the man who made all of my favourite songs. How does his mind work in conversations? How does he speak without the lyrics coming out of his mouth, but just as an ordinary guy? I am like a moth drawn to the flame, the flame being his presence in front of me.

“It’s working that it makes me want to be down on all fours for you,” I put on my best flirtatious smile, referencing the same song on my reply, as I rested an elbow on the bar counter to lean forward.

Alex’s mouth turns upwards, leaning forward as well, that I can feel his hot breath of exhale fanning my face.

“So, can I get you another Martini?”

First knock. Second knock. Third kno—

“Hello you!”

A pair of arms suddenly envelopes around my waist and I am carried upwards, making me chuckle and rest my hands on the person’s chest for support. The warm scent of vanilla with a hint of tobacco suddenly invaded my senses, making me smile at the familiarity.

Alex.

“Hello you,” I say back. It seems like our greeting consisted of this phrase and it became a cute thing between us.

We don’t know what we are, that's why we don't know what to call one another.

“I missed you,” Alex says while burying his face at my neck, tickling me in the process.

“You saw me 2 days ago.”

“Too long!” He whines as he plants kisses on my neck that soon turns into biting.

“What have you been doing?” I laugh as I attempt to make him stop from giving me the same love bites on the same spot that he made from two nights ago.

Alex stops his actions and lifts his head to meet my gaze. He has this boyish smile on his face that makes him look young, like that era of his when I discovered him for the first time back in 2013.

“Just finishing a song that's been on my mind, there's just one material lyric that seems to be missing,” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is this the same song from last week?” I inquire as he places a hand on my back.

He nods in response as he leads me inside of his dressing room. I was surprised at how spacious it was, more spacious than his previous dressing room. There are varieties of snacks and chocolate one of the tables, a proper chiller full with different kinds of drinks, bottles of champagne on the other end of the table, his rolling portable clothing rack which hangs his neat and pristine suits, black velvet couch that looks so soft and sleepable than most hotel beds.

What really caught my attention was the beautiful dark oak wood grand piano sitting in the middle of this huge room, that made me gasp out loud and stop on my tracks.

But this piece of musical instrument catching my eye with its beauty is not the reason why I stopped all of a sudden.

I could feel the blush creeping up on my cheeks as I started to feel hot all of a sudden. God, get a grip, you. I had a fantasy about a piano last night… that looks exactly like what is in front of me… and it was with this man beside me doing unholy things on top of this piano on me…

And it seems like this man I have fantasised about last night can read my mind.

“What's on your mind, love?” Alex asks with a smile starting to form in his lips.

I bite my lip looking up at him and shake my head, “Nothing.”

He shakes his head at me in return and squints his eyes, his lips forming a full smirk now, “None of that, tell me.”

“Nope,” I stubbornly shake my head, shyness taking over.

His hand starts to push me gently forward, making me walk towards the piano and stop when my front is now resting on it. Two hands on my hips guiding me to turn around, making my back now to be the one resting on the wooden piano. Alex’s hand rested beside me, using the piano to catch his weight as he leaned down on me, effectively trapping me between his suit clad body and the wooden piano.

Oh. Oh.

“What? I don’t wanna say it,” I whisper while avoiding his gaze as if that would help him not to know what’s on my mind.

“You imagine me fucking you in a piano, don’t you?”

I looked up to argue which we both knew would be useless and didn’t let me reply anymore as he smashed his lips on my own. I raise my hands to grip his shoulders for support as his hot lips claim me, which seems to be compensating for the two days we have not seen each other, we have not kissed each other.

Suddenly, Alex turned me around once again, and pushed my shoulders forward so that I am now bending in the piano, making my ass sticking in the air. His index finger toys the band of my underwear as he presses his front more prominently, making me feel the outline of his hard cock and I couldn’t help but moan at the sensation.

“My dirty little girl,” he whispers, pulling down my panties down to my boots, tapping my leg gently as he finally discarded my underwear, probably pocketing it like he always does.

I could hear the zip of his pants and the rush crackle sound of the condom wrapper being torn open. I push my ass back eagerly and Alex just lightly laughs while tapping my thigh as a response.

“What if I tell you I had them put this piano so I can fuck you on it because I have been thinking about it too?”

I just whined in response. Everything is heightened at the moment, especially my senses, as I can’t see what he’s about to do, and I can’t just take it anymore.

“Please, Al, I just need you,” I whisper.

God, you’re so down bad.

His fingers start to ghost on my clit, making me clench in response. He starts to collect my wetness and spreads it on my lips and my eyes shut closely as two fingers start to stretch me out all at once. It was slow and deliberate, but God I could feel every inch of his fingers scissoring me open. The rough callousness of his pads hits my walls perfectly as he enters a third finger, making me cry out and grip the cold wooden piano tightly, calling out Alex’s name like a prayer.

“Doing so good for me, darling. Has it really been two days? God, no amount of me fucking you will suffice, huh? Always wanting for more, always taking it like a good girl,” his voice laced with mock patronisation.

I would have replied if I was not just in ecstasy right now, thanks to his three long fingers.

He retreats his fingers on me, making me whine once again. I could hear his hum of satisfaction and I could just imagine him sucking his fingers while his eyes closed and nodding a bit, and that just made me more wet than I ever was before.

“This is torture, Alex,” I protest, wanting to be on my front and see his face as he fucks me.

Alex laughs, and I can finally feel his cock on my ass, lazily gliding it up and down on my cunt to slick his member with my own wetness. One of his hands is gently bunching my hair in a ponytail and tugging it upwards, signalling me to rise a bit, holding me in place.

“Patience, little girl. Remember, who gets rewarded the most?”

“People who wait.”

My skirt is practically on my stomach now. I can finally feel the head of his cock entering me slowly, making me moan out loud as he’s making me feel every vein, every inch of him. As soon as he bottoms out, we both release the sigh of moan that we have been both keeping in. His other hand starts to grip my hip, his thumb gently moving in circles as if he is comforting me as I adjust to his size. I swallow a moan and close my eyes shut as I feel the fullness, clenching on his cock as I try to memorise once again and make my walls mold to his dick.

And it all came crashing down.

The gentleness was gone and it was a one time thing when he thrust to enter for the first time this evening because as soon as he withdrew back, he thrusts forward that made me move upwards on the wooden piano. I could feel my tits being dragged up and down as Alex fucks hard on me.

“God, you feel so tight, darling. Have I not been fucking you good? How are you still so tight around my cock,” Alex breathes in my ear as I clutch on the wooden piano and hold on for dear life. I can’t form words to reply and just let out a whimper at his statement.

“Alex, please, I’m so close,” I pleaded.

“Already, love?” He says that I could feel the smirk that has formed in his lips. His hand starts to collect my hair in a ponytail once again, twisting it once so it wraps to a make-shift rein, pulling me upwards. I gasp at his demand, my back resting on his chest as he continue to fucks into me, one hand now reaching to toy with my clit and making me effectively closer to my sweet release.

This is one of those moments where no words are needed, just action.

He probably has felt the way my walls clench around him tightly at each thrust or maybe it’s my increased moans of his name as he pounds into me one after another, that he suddenly withdraws and makes me clench into nothing, making me open my eyes in confusion. I started to look at Alex over my shoulder to see what happened when suddenly, hands were on my waist and roughly turned me around, making me have a whiplash from the sudden movement. A gasp was evoked from my throat and I reached forward blindly for support.

“I wanna see your face when you come.”

Alex places his hand now under my thighs and carries me effortlessly, having me sit on the old grand piano. He pushes my shoulders down, effectively having me splay around the top of the piano. He places my legs over his shoulder, before making me full of him and start to build his rhythm as we both are on our way back to ecstasy.

My position makes me able to face Alex and God, what a heavenly sight he is right now.

If this isn’t the hottest thing right now. Both my legs are resting on his shoulder, my black thigh high boots look so aesthetically pleasing with his head between them. Alex’s hair is dishevelled, sweat forming on his forehead and a bead has started to trickle down from his temple to his cheeks. His suit is still smoothly ironed, in contrast with his slightly rumpled striped button up shirt that is open three buttons from the top, showcasing his chest that is slightly glistening of sweat. His gold chain necklace is swaying back and forth, as he pushes his hip forward, driving his cock deeper and deeper in each thrust, making me feel him almost in my stomach, but what’s really doing it for me is, Oh. My. God.

His face.

Alex’s face is etched with a look of pure ecstasy. Little breathy moans escapes from his parted mouth as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. His brows are furrowed lightly in concentration while trying to keep his eyes open to see me getting undone beneath him, but the pleasure is overtaking his body, making his eyes roll back and shut it close, as he lets his body move naturally.

Not only I am getting fucked, but I am fucked.

Lord have mercy.

And soon, we both can’t hold it in. Not only in a few minutes he needs to go on stage and the time constraint is adding to the thrill of chasing our orgasm, but tonight is just different. He just feels different.

A good different.

“I need to feel you come, darling,” Alex breathes in my face as I hold on his arms for dear life. I nod eagerly at his command, and the only thing that has left from my mouth are loud moans of his name.

I must have blacked out for a second, because all I could remember is the feeling of his hard thrusts, and how it was a deliberate pace before but it started to become restless, and I know Alex is now also chasing his own high and not holding back anymore, but still not neglecting me as he made me sure I could cross that line of climax first before I feel him spill on the rubber latex. All I knew is just his name as I repeat it over and over again and I clenched my walls tightly against his dick that it was hard for him to fuck me through my orgasm, and that made him to go over the edge and come with me for tonight.

I feel a hand pushing my hair gently out of my face and cradling my cheek, a thumb rubbing it gently.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You good?”

I open my eyes to see Alex already staring down at me, scanning my face in slight concern. I swallowed dryly and opened my mouth to reply, but did not get a chance to when loud several knocks echoed from the door.

“Turner, 15 minutes!”

I chuckled lowly instead in reply as he gave me an apologetic look.

“I’m gonna pull out now,” he announces. I nod and close my eyes to collect myself a bit. I hear the sound of the zipper being made and the light footsteps as he walk around, probably to fix his appearance and make it look like he just did not fuck someone backstage before his concert.

“No words again?” His voice booms from across the room. I can hear that damn smirk even from afar.

“I need to talk now after sex because your ego is getting bigger every time I’m speechless,” I finally opened my eyes and playfully narrowed it on the man who just gave me one hell of experience.

“Well it was so damn good that it made you speechless. No need to be embarrassed about it, love.”

“What made you think it’s good? What if the real reason I’m silent is because I’m disappointed with your performance?”

He stops what he’s doing and looks over at me with playfulness but hint of seriousness from his face. “Do you want me to fuck you all over again on that same piano I just fucked you on minutes ago? Because I’m willing to delay the show just to show you again how good I can fuck you and make you remember nothing else but just me?”

That shouldn’t make my blood rush in my cheeks and feel once again ‘that’ heat from the deep of my stomach as I just had a mindblowing orgasm. I just bite my lip to contain myself and not let out a moan from his words and just roll my eyes at him playfully.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, darling or I swear we’re never going to leave this room all night,” Alex threatens with a smile.

God, what is he doing to me?

I jump back to the ground, knees wobbling a little and he snorts a smirk, evidently proud with the state I’m currently in. I walked towards the other side of the room to fix myself. I look at the mirror and wipe off the smudged eyeliner below my eyes, and made myself look presentable once more, as if I was not just fucked (the best one so far if I might add) by the person who will be singing in front of thousands fans in 5 minutes.

I looked back to see Alex smoothing down his suit and taming his hair that’s now getting longer. I even joked about it one night that he should keep it longer, like his hair during his Humbug era, but he just flipped me off before proceeding to give me the best head I’ve ever had in my life, as I hold on to his starting to get long hair.

Before I left the room, I walked over Alex who is now seated in front of the mirror. Our eyes meet as we gaze at our reflection, and I lean down and press my lip at the shell of his ear.

“I fantasise about you, Al.”

I stood up straight and when I looked at him in the mirror, he had this enlightened expression, pupils dilating as he stared upwards at me with his lips slightly parted open. I gave him a smile and a nod and didn’t wait for his response as I exited his dressing room.

I held my head high as I navigated my way out of the backstage and situated myself with the crowd at the side of the stage. I’m lucky to have a free seat beside me, while on my right there seems to be 3 best friends who couldn’t contain their excitement as they gush over and squeal with one another.

“I wonder what Alex is doing backstage!”

“I bet playing some piano or practicing!”

“Wait, isn't his girlfriend here? I think I saw her!”

“No! They broke up after a long time! His girlfriend’s sister confirmed it on insta.”

“Maybe he’s hooking up with someone else!”

“Before a show? Nah, he’d do it after.”

And those last two interactions just made me laugh. It must have been loud because all three heads just turned to look at me and I visibly swallowed nervously.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t laughing at you guys, I mean well wha—“

“Sorry! Were we too blunt?” The red haired girl interrupted my failed attempt to explain myself.

“No no! Your conversation just well, made me curious too if Alex fucks before a show or he does it after,” I smile innocently, joining in their conversation. Well I know the answer, and he does both.

Fucks me before the show and after either in the bar or a third round even on his hotel room after getting drinks at the bar and a quick shag there.

“Oh definitely after!” The raven-haired girl who previously made it known her answer reaffirms it.

“I don’t think he’s fucking anyone right now,” the blonde one of the trio frowns in concentration.

“What do you think, miss?”

I open my mouth to reply but the lights went dim and I know any second now the band will be walking on the stage together. Soon enough, cheers and scream intensifies and light starts to move towards the stage, a faint glare of light illuminating our faces, the trio still awaiting for my answer before they can focus on the concert.

“Oh I think he fucks you before his show to release some nerves from being anxious and after the show to convert some adrenaline in his system.”

They seem satisfied and enlightened by my answer, nodding before wishing me to have a great night and they went to focus now on the man we’re just talking about as the first song starts to play.

It never gets boring watching my favourite band play. By now, I probably have memorised every breath Alex takes when he sings or every mannerisms he does when he plays his guitar, and every single time, I am still mesmerised with him. He’s so beautifully talented and I’m lucky to be able to see him perform every night. Well, even more lucky to see him not just on stage.

But I consider myself lucky to have the chance to get to know how his mind work, and I want more of it.

My legs are now sore from standing from the start down to the last song of this show, well being fucked bent in a piano might have contributed to the soreness, but I remained standing because I know it will now be the last show of the song, and might I add, my favourite.

It’s the classic ‘R U Mine?’, who would want to sit down now?

“Well this is the time we’ll leave you with our one final song, but I’m feeling happy right now here in Germany. So this next song won’t be the last, it’s a new song. Here’s a treat for you all.”

Everyone in the arena shows no signs of exhaustion, instead, seems like everyone becomes energised to the new song the band is about to play. New song? I wonder if this is the song that Alex has been writing for weeks now.

I looked at the stage and everyone except Alex has left the stage. I became confused even when it was just Alex walking over towards the left side of the stage, near me even, to sit down on a makeshift piano. He angled his body so now he is fully facing my section, making my section amplify their screams.

Alex looks up from where he’s sitting and start searching the crowd, and it is not too long before his eyes landed on me an gave that damn smirk he makes before he does something mischievous that I know would make my heart skip a beat.

“This is Golden Trunks, everyone. I just finished it today, so bear with me.”

Last night when my psyche's subcommittee sang to me in it's scary voice

You slowly dropped your eyelids

When true love takes a grip it leaves you without a choice

I smiled, his voice sounds incredibly beautiful with these new lyrics he’s singing out loud.

And in response to what you whispered in my ear

I must admit sometimes I fantasize about you too

And that made me freeze. My heart skipped a beat and my eyes widen at Alex, who is now looking at the piano and never taking his gaze off from it.

Did he just… was those lyrics from what I literally did an hour ago before I left his dressing room?

The leader of the free world reminds you of a wrestler wearing tight golden trunks

He's got himself a theme tune

They play it for him as he makes his way to the ring

And in response to what you whispered in my ear

I must admit sometimes I fantasize about you too

Oh my God. Those lyrics again.

In the daytime, bendable figures with a fresh new pack of lies

Summat else to publicise

I'm sure you've heard about enough

This time, Alex lifts his head up and reconnected our gaze. His lips touching his microphone as he sings the last words of his song directly at me.

So in response to what you whispered in my ear

I'll be upfront, sometimes I fantasize about you too

It seems like he’s responding to my confession earlier, that I fantasise about him. He is admitting too, that he does fantasise about me too.

And this should skip my heart beat in a good way, but instead why are my ears started to ring and dread flows in my veins?

I was snapped out of my overthinking by the booming applause in the arena. When I looked back onstage, Alex was no longer sitting and he’s now back in the middle and retrieving the guitar he used to play the last song to close the show. Every band member starts to appear now and start to tune their instruments. A bile starts to form at the back of my throat and I don’t know nor I can explain my feelings after that new song that I just witnessed together with thousands of people with me who doesn’t even know I’m panicking over two specific lines from the lyrics of the new song.

It takes me back to Japan. That one specific moment I shared with Alex. The reason why I can’t let ourselves be attached to one another.

It does not sound like it’s the harmless ‘fantasise’ we are talking about here. It sounds like we are crossing that unfamiliar territory of being more than just… more than just whatever this is.

“Are you mine?”

I whip my head to the sound of Alex’s voice who did not sing that line but instead sounded like a question he screamed at his microphone and true enough, it was a question as he looks at me, a mischievous smile not leaving his lips, as he plays his guitar not taking off his eyes on me.

“He’s looking at us! Alex is looking at us!”

“Stop! He’s just staring at me.”

“Oh no, he’s looking at this miss beside you!”

Four heads are now turned to me and four pair of eyes looking at my direction now. I looked at the trio, not even knowing how to respond even.

“You can have him girls,” I smile weakly.

I retrieve my clutch from my seat before waving at the trio goodbye, leaving halfway through the last song. This is the time I’d go back to Alex’s dressing room and wait for him there, but this time, my legs make its way outside of the arena.

The cold air of Munich greets me. I hug myself as I walk down the pavement, flagging down a cab. A cab stopped in front of me and I immediately got in.

“Where to miss?”

I told him the name of my hotel and as soon as the cab speeds up, the more I could finally breathe.

I need to get away from him, fast. If I don’t, I might say something I should not. If I do, I might fall even deeper and it would be too hard to crawl my way back out and impose that fence that we’re not bound to cross as that is some unchartered territory that he established from day one.

Oh now it does make sense when he sang: When true love takes a grip it leaves you without a choice.

So I’m making a choice for the both of us now.

Hello! I’m Flo and this is my first ever post here on Tumblr!

Actually, it’s my first time ever publishing a work of mine out in a social media platform. My works would consist of, well just my thoughts and imagination and, I wish to be part of the Arctic Monkeys’ community on here! I will be mainly writing about AM I think? Well, I know.

This is a part 1 out of part 4 (I think) in this little series I had in my mind.

[xenyasplacex]

Baby Trapped — Chapter 1

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!OC

Summary: Chris is in a toxic relationship and the only thing keeping him there is his daughter.

warning- Toxic relationship, Miserable Chris, Shouting, Abuse, Physical Abuse, Talk of miscarriage

A/N : This is so bad it’s concerning but oh well, i’ll fix it later. Enjoy xx

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Prologue <—> Chapter 2

It all started on a quite joyful note. Nate was in town visiting the triplets and they had gone to a bar the night before he left back to Boston

“Alright,” Nate said over the loud music to Chris, looking around before spotting someone.

“I bet you $40 you can’t pick her up.” He said turning to Chris. 

Matt who was next to the pair laughed while shaking his head. “Her? i’m surprised she even got in here. I’ll bet you $60”

The girl was tall, not taller than Chris but still fairly tall, She had almost perfect skin with curls falling on her shoulders beautifully. She was definitely Chris’ type however it was rare that you saw Chris hit on a girl and even more rare that he hit on a girl and succeeded.

Chris turned to face his brother astonished, “What? You don’t think i can do it?” 

“Girl your age, not staring at you like you’re  a dancing monkey, that pretty. Good luck buddy.” Nick interjected before taking a sip of his drink.

“You know what,” Chris started, quickly downing his drink and stand up, “I think i will got talk to her.” 

That night a slightly Tipsy Chris went to talk to a very pretty girl, a girl that he didn’t know was actually as safe as poison. That night marked that everything changed. From that exchange of phone numbers led to a toxic relationship, an unplanned pregnancy and a whole load of problems that none of the triplets had even thought could happen.

To be completely honest it had all happened at an unusually fast pace. Within 2 months of talking they were together, the honeymoon period lasted for about a month before the relationship started to turn ugly. What used to be simple taps turned into being hit with hard object which turned into being left on the floor, bruised and bloody. After about 6 months Chris had tried to break up with her but he couldn’t. She threatened to stop eating, to cut herself, to kill herself, and even the possibility of her going through with these things because of chris was enough to make him stay. When he tried to leave again she made the same threats but Chris stood up for himself and that’s when she told him she was pregnant. That night was still foggy for Chris but after a few too many drinks, a couple of kisses, apologies and a plane ticket to vegas later, Chris woke up hung over and married, and 10 months later his daughter, Adriana was born.

Adriana was the one thing that kept him going all these years, the idea that he finally had a daughter to love and care for, a daughter that was all his, a daughter that loved him as he loved her. His daughter. He didn’t want to leave Aaliyah because he knew if he did she could be taken from him and that made him stay. It made him put up a fight. It made him strong.

It started when they came back from tour. Late. 

“Daddy!” Adriana cried out as Chris fell to the floor, Aaliyah stood over him.

“You were supposed to be back at 3 o’clock Christopher, 3!” She screamed adding more punched to his face.

It was currently 6. In all honestly, Chris had just come back from tour and their flight home had simply been delayed. However, in Aaliyah’s eyes Chris staying out late just meant that he was cheating and she couldn’t stand for him cheating. 

“Daddy!” Adriana cried again this time leaving her safe spot behind the door frame and coming to try and stop her mother. That had never happened before. Usually when Aaliyah went crazy on Chris she was like hide under her bed in her room and wait for Chris to come and and rock her to sleep saying everything was fine however this time things were different, Aaliyah was hitting harder and faster. Adriana has to protect her dad the way he protects her. It was only fair.

“Adrian get back!” Chris yelled as he watched his daughter toddle over to her mother. It was only when his wife’s elbow connected with his daughter’s nose that Chris fought back. He quickly grabbed Aaliyah by her arms and pushed her off him. Hard. Hard enough to knock her into a shelf that was near them and had some of the books fall on her.

In that moment Chris quickly got up, ignoring the immense pain he felt. He quickly picked his daughter up and ran downstairs to her room before locking them both in it. At that point Adriana was still crying saying her face hurt and Chris was trying to pack a bag of everything she needed. Her clothes, her night time dipears, her kindergarten uniform and her favourite stuffed animal, Jeff the 

giraffe. As he started shoving everything in a bag he heard Aaliyah starting to move so he quickly put his shoes on, put adrian’s shoes in his bag, picked her up and ran for the door before quickly putting her in her car seat and driving away from the house.

Chris was speeding, running red lights, cutting people off and breaking almost every rule of driving to get them away from the house but at that point he didn’t even care about himself, he needed to get Adriana out if there. After a while Chris finally parked his car at a Mcdonald’s around 20 minutes from his brother’s house. If she went straight there she would find him. He finally turned to his daughter who was still breathing heavily from how she had been crying. 

“Oh baby,” Chris said softly as he got out of the car and went over to the back of the car to pick her up and hug her tight. Adriana started crying into Chris’ shoulder again, gripping his hoodie tightly. Chris simply rocked her, humming soothing tunes and playing with her hair, the same things he used to do whenever Aaliyah would be destroying things around the house and so Adriana couldn’t sleep. Eventually, she stopped crying and was simply sniffling. 

“I’m sorry Adi I’m really sorry. I love you so much i’m sorry you saw that. How’s your nose huh?”

“Better”

“I’m sure it is you brave brave girl.” Chris said ticking her side finally making her giggle. “There we go, you’re laughing now.” He said happily before kissing her cheek. “Let’s get something to eat okay?”

“Chris?” Matt spoke through the phone gently, “Where are you?”

“I’m at Mcdonald’s, the one near your house,” Chris replied rubbing the exhaustion of his eyes. They had been at that mcdonald’s for no around 5 hours now and the realisation from what had haken had started to kick in. Now Adriana was asleep in her car seat and Chris was trying to stop his hands from shaking.

“Chris!” Nick yelled faintly before grabbing the phone from Matt. “Chris Aaliyah was just here, she’s left now but she was screaming that you left and she was going to go to the cops.” No. This couldn’t be happening. He only touched her to protect his child. If she went to the cops would they even believe him?

“Chris? Chris come here okay. Look Matts phone is about to die and i can’t find mine just come here and we’ll sort everything out okay? come here and we ca-“ Was the last thing Chris heard before thephone went dead.

Chris considered his options. He could go back and beg Aaliyah not to call the cops or he could go to his brothers house and keep him and his daughter safe.

“Adi’s asleep, she went out like a light.” Matt laughed quietly before joining his brothers on the couch.

“Chris, i know you don’t want to but you have to tell us what happened.” Nick explained as Chris rolled his eyes and got up from the couch.

“Nothing happed Nick, she’s just mourning that’s all.”

“Oh my gosh Chris I am so tired of you using that tired excuse every time she messes up. I understand losing a child can be hard.” Nick yelled before Chris cut him up.

“Shut up Nick, just shut up!”

“But if she’s doing something to you that’s so bad that you had to take your living child and run then you have to do something about it. Chris what if you need a lawyer?”

“Shut up, i said shut up!” Chris screamed, grabbing Nick by his collar.

“Wow wow Chris chill out, he’s just trying to help you.” Matt shouted trying to get in between the two. 

“Yeah well your help isn’t needed,” Chris said much quieter now letting go of Nicks collar, “my wife is mourning our child okay? And so am I.” Chris said sincerely before waking upstairs to find his daughter.

He didn’t mean to lash out at his brother, but it’s hard to do so when someone is in your head like that. Chris may not be sure if he truly did love Aaliyah but she was the mother of his only child and that was enough to make him protect her, even if it meant killing himself inside in the process.

He didn’t even remember falling asleep near his daughter, all he knew was the next morning he woke up to Aaliyah rubbing his back telling him to wake up so they could go home.

Caught. They were caught.

“Common babe, you go have breakfast with you brothers downstairs i’ll go get Adi ready okay?” She asked lovingly before pressing a soft kiss to his check and lips. 

Yes, the same woman who had been beating on him yesterday was know kissing him like nothing had happened. She was mean and manipulated by she was a pretty damn good actor.

Chris riddled downstairs where he heard Matt and Nick gossiping.

“He was about to sucker punch me in the mouth!”

“Nick, you said his wife should get over their dead son. I would’ve done the same.”

“I didn’t say it like that.”

“I’m sorry okay?” Chris said in the door frame causing his other triplet brothers to turn their heads and look at him. “I was in a bad room. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”

“I’m sorry for what I said, but Chris, if she is doing something to you, you have to tell us. We can help you but we can only do that if you let us in. Please?” Nick begged.

Does he tell them what’s going on? Does he try to explain to them that they can’t let him leave with her. He has to. He has to save his child from her. From what she could do to her. Not only that but he had to save himself. He had to save himself from the pain this whole relationship had caused, he had to save himself from all the suffe-

“You ready to go babe.” Aaliyah whispered as she turned the corner, a sleeping child resting on her chest and her baby bag in another hand. 

“Yeah, yeah i am.” Chris stated quietly, watching as his brothers shoulders dropped and he looked down in defeat.

Chris quickly brought his brothers into a hug and whispered a quick ‘Thanks’ to them before the small family left the house. It was only when they got in the car the Aaliyah facade dropped and she turned to Chris with a serious face.

“Christopher, the next time you run of with my daughter after laying hand on me, i promise you i will go straight to the police, and take you to the cleaners. Are we clear?” She asked.

 Chris didn’t say anything, to shocked at her change in tone.

“I said are we clear?” She asked again, this time with our agitation in her voice. 

“Yes, we’re clear.” He replied quietly before staring the engine and pulling out the driveway.

That was his life, a woman who treated him horribly but who he still stayed with, because he had a child to protect, and if that meant protecting her mother as well then so be it.

Hehehe, Luv ya ~ Xenya

Chapter 2

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 protector: chapter two

synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "

cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.

a/n: reposting from another account

"Strawhat!" you exclaimed, watching as he took all of the bullets.

Your eyes widened as he smiled, bouncing them back from his body with a laugh.

"That won't work on me! Told ya I was strong!" he laughed.

"What the—?! Who the hell are you?" Zoro exclaimed, shocked.

"My name's Monkey D. Luffy. And I'm gonna be King of the Pirates," Strawhat answered, giving you a thumbs up.

"You're gonna be King of the Pirates? Right. You must be completely outta your rubbery mind. You have any idea what that means?" Zoro cocked a brow.

"King of the Pirates means King of the Pirates. How could it mean anything other than that?" 

"When you first said it, I thought you were joking. That's a pretty big goal," you nodded in approval, giving the boy a playful punch in the arm.

He let out a small chuckle before holding out three swords to Zoro.

"Here's what I promised you. There's three. I couldn't tell which one was yours, so I just took all of them," Luffy smiled.

"All of them belong to me. I use Santoryu, the Three-Sword Style," the swordsman stated.

Everyone paused for a second.

"Take 'em already. Just know that if you fight with me now, you'll be a government-defying villain. So it's either that, or you're left out here and killed by the marines execution-style," Luffy widened his grin.

'He never stops smiling, does he?'

"He's got ya on the ropes now," you lightly snickered.

"What are you the son of the devil? It doesn't matter. Cause if I don't choose your side, I'll just end up dead on these sticks. So let's do it," Zoro smirked.

"Yeah! So you're finally gonna join my crew! This is the best thing ever!" Luffy cheered, doing a little dance with the swords.

"Would you stop celebrating already and get these ropes off me?!" 

Luffy began pulling on the ropes as you sighed, turning back to the men with their guns drawn and returned to your fighting stance.

"If the guns don't work, we chop!" Ax Hand shouted, raising his ax.

The men let out battle cries and drew their swords, running for you.

Determined, you narrowed your eyes.

They split into two groups, one going for you, one going for Zoro, and Luffy going for Morgan.

You sprouted your wings and flew straight up into the air before swooping down and bashing them all in one go.

"That was pathetic," you sighed as you landed.

Turning, you saw Luffy go for Ax Hand and manage to land a clean kick on the captain's face.

The man tried to cut Luffy's head off, but Luffy spun in the air to dodge, landing another kick on the guy's face.

"Straw Hat! Stop right there! Look what I got!" a familiar, annoying voice shouted from behind you.

'Blondie.'

Zoro turned to you and his eyes went wide, but Luffy kept punching.

"Are you stupid or something?! I said stop! If you would pay attention to me, I have a hostage here you might wanna look at!"

"(y/n)," Zoro narrowed his eyes, glaring at the blonde man.

"If you value your pretty little friend's life, you won't move a muscle! I'm serious! One move and I'll shoot her! I swear!"

You bashed him in the chest.

He gasped in pain and the other marines winced as he dropped to the floor.

You kicked the gun out of his hand and then placed your foot on his chest, pressing down on it as you leaned forward.

"You'll do what now, Blondie?" you spat, giving him a dangerous look.

"N-Nothing! Please! Don't hurt me!" he pleaded as he cried, snot pouring down his nose.

You grimaced.

"Jeez..." you scoffed, knocking him out with the hilt of your mace before lifting your foot and turning back around to Luffy to see that he stopped fighting.

That's when you noticed Ax Hand was winding up to slice the boy in half.

"Luffy, behind you!" you warned, eyes wide.

Just then, Zoro landed two clean swipes on Ax Hand's stomach.

"Thanks," Luffy smiled.

"Just doing my job, Captain," Zoro nodded, muffled from the sword in his mouth.

"Captain Morgan's been beaten!"

"Unbelievable!"

"Those guys are unreal!"

"If there's anyone else who wants to step forward to fight us, then do it now," Zoro stated, staring down all of the other marines as you walked over to the two, standing next to them.

They all erupted in cheers, throwing their hats and swords up in the air.

"That's weird. Looks like they're all happy that their captain was beaten," Luffy stated, quizzically.

Suddenly, Zoro dropped to the ground.

"Zoro!" you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him.

"What happened?!"

"I'm just... really hungry," He said weakly, peeking one eye open.

You sighed with relief before smacking him upside the head.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" he shouted, rubbing the spot you hit.

"YOU JERK! I THOUGHT YOU WERE HURT OR SOMETHING!" you shouted back, grabbing him by his arm and pulling him up, throwing it over your shoulder so you could help him walk.

"Whew! I am stuffed! Having not eaten in three weeks, I was ready to gnaw through my bootstraps," Zoro smiled, rubbing his stomach as he leaned back in his chair.

You had gone to this little inn in the village that the rice ball girl's mother happened to own for something to eat.

You laughed.

"I can't believe you two are finished. Lightweights," Luffy said as he stuffed his mouth with more food.

"How the hell can you have a bigger appetite than a guy who hasn't eaten in three weeks?" Zoro asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"It just tastes too good, I guess. Right, (y/n)?" Luffy asked.

"Don't look at me. I tapped out a long time ago. I'm just thankful to you for making this," you nodded, turning to the woman behind the counter.

"My pleasure. After all, you guys did save the town," she smiled back.

"You guys are the most amazing people I've ever met!" the little girl beamed as she lightly tugged on your arm.

"Yeah, I am, I know. I'll be more amazing when I'm King of the Pirates and I have the One Piece. Oh, and the best crew on the seas," Luffy smiled, his cheeks puffed like chipmunks from the food in his mouth.

"So... how many others have you gathered for your crew besides me?" Zoro asked.

Luffy gave him a confused look.

"You told me you were in the middle of gathering together the crew for your ship. And if you're gonna be King of the Pirates, I gotta assume you already have some waiting in the wings."

"Nope. Just you. But I was gonna ask (y/n) if she wants to join... (y/n)! Wanna join?!" Luffy asked you, still smiling.

You paused for a moment.

'There's a pretty good chance that Doflamingo's heading to the Grand Line as well. If I tag along with Luffy, then I'll definitely run into him.'

"Sure," you nodded, shrugging.

"So you, me, and (y/n) are what amounts to an entire pirate crew?" Zoro asked, surprised.

"What's wrong with that? We're a couple of strong guys...and girl!" Luffy shrugged.

"Alright. But please tell me you have a ship," the swordsman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sure do. It's right there," Luffy answered, using his fork to point at a small boat on the dock.

It was a boat someone would use to go fishing.

"You're kidding," Zoro deadpanned, leaning against the window to see it.

"Nope. But we'll have an enormous one before long! Just you wait and see!" Luffy smiled, leaning back in his chair as he stretched out his arms to show the size.

"And how's that?" Zoro heartily laughed.

"With a great big pirate flag on top. I can't wait!" Luffy dreamily answered, stuffing another forkful in his mouth.

"I can't believe I let myself get suckered into having him as a captain," Zoro grumbled.

"Cut him some slack. Every pirate has to start somewhere," you smirked, patting him on the back.

"We'll have a ton more crew members in no time!" Luffy assured.

"Luffy! Where are you and your crew planning to travel once you leave here?" the little girl asked.

"You mean it's not obvious? We're headed straight for the Grand Line," Luffy answered.

You spat out the water you were drinking.

"Slow down, Strawhat. There's no way in hell we're gonna make it to the Grand Line with a three-man crew in a fishing boat. We'd die before we'd get anywhere close. We gotta get a little better equipped before we even think about going anywhere near there," you stated, placing your cup down and wiping the water off your face with your arm.

"I heard stories about it from people passing through. The customers say that no one who has ever entered the Grand Line comes out of that place alive," the innkeeper lady said solemnly.

"Which is really too bad, 'cause that's where the One Piece is said to be, and that's exactly where we're going," Luffy smiled.

"I guess we have to live with it," Zoro shrugged.

"If we live," you groaned, taking a sip of the last bit of your water.

'I'm gonna die at sea with these two.'

Just then, a group of marines opened the door and one walked in, standing in front of your table.

"We heard that you guys are actually pirates. Is this rumor true?" he asked.

"Right, and I just added the first two members to my crew. So pretty much the whole thing just became official," Luffy answered, turning to the man.

"We appreciate everything you did to save our town from that horrible tyrant who terrorized us all for so long. However, now that we know that you're pirates, as Marines, we cannot sit idly by and watch you go about your business. Therefore, you and your crew will need to leave immediately. But out of respect for what you've done, we will not report you to headquarters," the man stated, adjusting his hat.

"Are you crazy?! How do you find the nerve to talk like that?!" one of the customers shouted.

"Before these pirates came along, you guys were as scared of Morgan as we were!" another one exclaimed.

"Without them, we'd still be under his reign. We owe them our lives!" a woman chimed.

"Well, I know when it's time to leave a party," you sighed, getting up from your seat.

"Time to go. Thanks for all of the food, lady," Luffy smiled.

The three of you grabbed your things and walked out of the place.

"It is a fitting way to leave this place, unable to turn back 'cause everyone here hates us now. Very pirate-like," Zoro smiled as you all approached Luffy's ship.

"Yeah. It sure is," Luffy laughed.

He unfurled the sails and you all got on the boat, pushing off.

"We hope to see you again someday!" A young voice called.

It was the little girl from the in, frantically waving goodbye.

"Stay outta trouble!" You waved back to them, smiling.

"Kinda hypocritical, doncha think?" Zoro smirked.

"Oh, shut up," you rolled your eyes, elbowing him in his side and earning a chuckle.

"At last, our pirate crew finally sets sail!" Luffy smiled, looking out into the distance while holding down his hat on his head.

"I got the feeling some interesting adventures are waiting for us," Zoro smirked.

Luffy laughed.

"I'll be King of the Pirates. I know it," Luffy firmly stated, looking out into the distance.

"You seem more than obsessed with this King of the Pirates stuff. Is there some kinda story behind it? Or any reason at all?" you asked as you rested your elbows on the edge of the boat.

"No. No reason. It's just—" "Just what?" Zoro interrupted.

"Will you let him finish?" you shushed.

"I promised someone a while back. I swore that I would gather a crew, find the world's greatest treasure, and become King of the Pirates. And this straw hat knows the whole story," Luffy answered.

"I see," you smiled, lifting your gaze from your captain and looking out into the distance yourself.

"Now! Let's go! It's time for us to set our heading... for the Grand Line!"

[magewritesstories]

[ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ] ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏᴍ ᴀꜱꜱᴏᴄɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

summary: just a simple one-shot of your life before Megumi went to Jujutsu Tech tw: implied fem!reader but no pronouns are used note: listen, gojo has a chokehold on me but domestic!gojo? ooohh boy words: 811 (it's pretty short) jujutsu kaisen masterlist

YOU BROWSE THE ISLE BOREDLY. Some old Ed Sheeran song playing over the low-quality speaker of the grocery store as your eyes scour the colourful array of cereal boxes in front of you.

It had been an annoying experience this morning, waking up to find not only all the Captain Crunch cereal but also the instant coffee gone.

Usually Gojo does all the grocery shopping (which leads to an unequal ratio of healthy- to junkfoods.) But he's out on a mission and you can't survive without coffee.

So, here you are, trying to find a good cereal.

You could just get Captain Crunch, but Megumi complained about it last time so that was a no-go.

"You should get that one," A feminine voice spoke up as you were reading the label of a bright pink box.

You turn around to face the unfamiliar voice. "Excuse me?"

An elder woman, maybe ten years older than you, holds up a dark green box with what seems to be the picture of a monkey and chocolate shells.

"This cereal—it's more nutritious but my kids love it because it tastes like chocolate."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" You question, a little taken aback. The woman's smile falters a little and suddenly you think you've made a mistake. Had you met her at a parent-teacher conference, maybe?

But thankfully she quickly reassures you. "Oh, no sorry, I'm Saori Aino," She introduces, maneuvering past her cart to shake your hand, "I live in apartment 107. I suppose I got a little ahead of myself there."

"Ah, okay, it's alright," You reply quickly, smiling somewhat awkwardly as you shake her hand, "I'm Y/N L/N."

The woman nods as she hands you the box of cereal, letting out a soft giggle. "Oh, I know. My son goes to the same middle-school as your daughter—tells me how Tsumiki can never shut up about how amazing you are."

The comment makes you go a little red as you smile, "Really?"

"Oh yeah, honestly we're all dying to meet you—you should swing by a PTA meeting some time," Saori replies, "I know all the other parents would love to meet you. Bring your husband too!"

Before you can reply that technically Satoru isn't your husband yet, Saori continues excitedly. "Actually, the spring dance is coming up, and we need volunteer chaperones."

"Oh, uhm, I suppose I could check my schedule..." You reply, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

"That's great!" She replies, clasping her hands together excitedly before checking her watch, "Ah, I should really get going and make dinner but think about what I said. And don't be shy to ask for a favour every now and then, we parents should stick together, right?"

Saori doesn't give you the time to reply as she quickly walks off with a small wave. Leaving you standing there with a box of cereal in your hand, wondering what had just happened.

You're lazing on the couch—halfheartedly listening to the protagonist of the movie monologue—when Satoru get home that night.

He leans over the back of the couch, watching along for a couple of minutes before jumping over it and plopping down next to you.

You quickly wing your legs over his lap as he takes of his blindfold, tiredly resting your head on his shoulder.

"How'd the mission go?"

"As always, it was a walk in the park."

You playfully roll you eyes at his bragging tone. "How was it here? Anything exciting happen?" Satoru asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he relaxes.

"Nothing special, just ran some errands, helped Tsumiki with math—at least I think I did, pretty sure we were both crying about the primitive at some point."

Then you suddenly remember your interaction at the store. "Oh, and I think I'm officially a part of the neighbourhood mom association."

Gojo peels his eyes away form the glowing screen, "What?"

"Yeah, I was grocery shopping today—because somebody finished all the coffee and didn't bother to restock—" He feigns an innocent face at that—"And one of the moms that lives in the building walked up to me."

He raises a brow at the statement. "She started talking 'bout how the PTA would love to have us join them, they need chaperones for Tsumiki's spring dance, and how we shouldn't be shy and ask for help if we need it, etc."

"Congratulations," He replies sarcastically, grinning at the proud smile on your face. You nod, "I think I deserve to be recognized as a parent after putting up with you and Megumi."

Satoru just rolls his eyes playfully.

"Oh and by the way, everyone thinks you're my husband."

He lets out a laugh at that statement, placing a sloppy kiss on you cheek, "Yeah, I should probably get on that, huh?"

"Probably."

[tsukikonikushimi]

Page 60 - The Boy Who Shattered Time

MASTERLIST

Since this page has a lot of illustrations I will simply go left -> right. I will crop the individual Ekkos

TOP AND MIDDLE Ekko's champion outfit explorations, from Episode 209

Our beautiful couple:

TimeBomb

Covered in doodles ("that's me" / "Jinx") and hearts.

The "best boy"

With a doodled crown upon his head: The Boy Who Shattered Time

LEFT Concept art for Ekko's Z-Drive, from Episode 207

LEFT Concept art for alternate-universe student Ekko, from Episode 207

"Would you dance with me?" (I love his outfit and how healthy and serene he actually looked in the AU, it makes you think how better their life would have been in Zaun if only the Council did something)

This little Ekkos are so cute!!

("Smart, smart, smart")

Bg of the page, which seems to be both a picture of the Firelight's tree (? not sure) and Ekko's notes

BOTTOM AU Powder's designs for the monkey zoetrope included in the Z-Drive prototype

Hopefully I didn't make any mistakes in copying this:

WHEN THEY WERE YOUNG, VI, POWDER, and Ekko were all very close and looked out for each other. Ekko worked with Benzo, eagerly awaiting the return of his friends from their wilder hijinks. As they got older, their destinies diverged. Jinx and Ekko stayed true to their natures as resourceful inventors, but their stance on Silco divided them: Jinx becomes his protégée while Ekko vigorously opposes him and the violence shimmer created. He becomes the leader of a resistance group called the Firelights. In Season 2, Powder resurfaces to be reunited with Ekko in one of the series's most poignant storylines—or rather, alternate storylines. Baudry recalls that part of what fueled the multiverse section of Episode 207 was the feeling that Ekko had been given short shrift early on and there was a need to make clear that he, too, was an inventor. "We worked at Fortiche on the first video of Ekko when he was realized as a cham-pion, and there were a few things that we couldn't hit," he said. "One of them is that he is supposed to be a genius. He is supposed to be Leonardo da Vinci. Basically, he's cre-ating his own math system or writing system. So we we wanted to show in that episode that Ekko and Jinx are part of an academy, and they are going to school. Ekko hasn't been as challenged, so he is great, but he's not inventing crazy stuff because his life was not as hard. Canonically, he's supposed to be the one in Zaun who is taking care of the orphans, so we have a bit of that, but he also has his group of teenagers who are fighting against the chem-barons." If anything, Ekko emerged as one of the most unlikely heroes of the show, rising to meet tough sometimes heart-wrenching challenges and becoming a charismatic, beloved leader. Yet Episode 207 suggests a hollowness, something forever missing. Talking about his relationship with the storyboarding teams, the Season 2 director Bart Maunoury recalled giving them a specific direction for a specific shot: "At the very end of 209, I asked them to position Ekko exactly the same way as when he kisses Powder at the end of 207—to show that he's still there, but she isn't."

And that's all for now! I had a busy week so I'm a little later than I would've liked to post this. Next one is Pg 55 - Victor's Commune, the last one in the poll of mid April. I received a couple more request after those so i'll probably do another poll to see in what order I should post.

This page was requested by Anon (-🎮🕹️).

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Sweets and Sours and Maggots

So, a bit more Summoned!König because he's a big sweetie. No pun intended here, because this fic is all about travelling, dancing. and chocolate. A very soft drabble with lots of bickering between Summoner and König.

TWs: None, really. Wait, mentions of maggot cheese (which is a real food)

Wordcount: 1.6K

Art from this post

Story Below the Cut

Sweets and Sours and Maggots

“So, I’m just curious,” you leaned in close as König looked at you skeptically, “what does the other realm look like?”

König relaxed as he raised one hand, “Well, it’s much like this realm in most regards, thankfully.”

“Is it?” you quirked your head to the side.

“Well, except for the fast that the colours are beyond your human comprehension,” König finished, “and surfaces are usually inverted. Oh, and I suppose the strange echoing and the ever present sense of dread and despair can be a bit much to bear sometimes. The feeling of how small you are in comparison to the rest of existence is constantly on your mind. It’s inescapable. It’s a rather psychological realm, if you will. Much less tangible than this reality.”

You blinked, “That’s not like this realm at all.”

“Oh and I suppose there is the strange phenomena where darkness is light, and light is dark,” König continued, “and how the wind feels like a vacuum. It’s a bit strange, I suppose, when your only frame of reference is this existence.”

“And is the sky orange?” you drawled.

König stared at you, “How in the stars did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you groused as you slumped into your chair, “so I’m guessing that the other realm is ‘beyond my mortal comprehension’, right?”

“You’d be correct in that assumption,” König quipped.

“So you’re never taking me there?” you sighed.

“I’m not particularly interested in collecting the shards of your bones across time, no. Why?” König leaned his chin onto his palm.

You shrugged, “I’m bored. I kinda wanna go somewhere but I don’t know where. You know that feeling?”

“Always,” König laughed, “I suppose you’re starting to understand what it feels like to be a creature controlled by the throes of chaos, yes?”

“My mom always called me a chaotic monkey,” you grumbled.

“Then maybe you have always had an affliction,” König offered, “but either way, you want to go somewhere? Somewhere other than here?”

“Anywhere,” you lay your head in your arms, folded messily over the table.

“Anywhere where you won’t drop dead of poison, implode and/or explode, freeze to death or be instantly incinerated, I’m assuming?” König checked.

You glared at him, “I don’t wanna die today.”

“I figured would ensure proper clarification,” König sniffed, “no matters, Summoner, I ask if you are interested in accompanying me on a journey?”

You perked up immediately, “Where to?”

“Well, I’m interested in retrieving a gift for my mother, and I figured a small little trip would do us well,” König took to his feet to stretch his long body out.

“Hold up,” you held up a hand, “you have a mom!?”

“Yes?” König turned to stare at you, “don’t you?”

“Yeah but like, I’m human,” you pointed out.

“Once I hatched I was raised by my mother,” König spoke slowly, almost as though he was worried he might break your mortal mind, “much like you were, no? She fed me from her breasts and raised me to be the being I am today.”

“So you’re saying there’s more things like you?” you asked bluntly.

König gasped and grasped at his chest, “Things like me! You do wound me, summoner! Gravely so!”

“Well I don’t know what you are! You’re just… I dunno,” you shrugged pathetically, “an avatar of chaos?”

“I’m a [REDACTED FOR READER’S SANITY], don’t you know?”

Once your head stopped hurting and the images had stopped flashing behind your eyes, you were able to shake yourself off and give König a proper glare.

“You did that on purpose,” you grumbled.

“I had a point to get across,” König replied.

“Okay but did you actually,” you grumped.

König closed his eyes and offered you a blithe shrug, “It was effective, so I believe so yes.”

“You’re literally the worst.”

“And yet still you hold a place for me in your heart,” König sang, “which I do appreciate, Summoner.”

“I hate you.”

“And yet your heart says otherwise,” König walked over to pull you to your feet, “now Summoner, tell me, are you not interested in going on an adventure together? Somewhere fun?”

“Your idea of fun is mentally scarring me on a Saturday afternoon at,” you checked your watch, “three-thirty in the afternoon. So, I’m gonna ask you again, is this really fun for both of us?”

“I do believe so,” König laughed as he twirled you in his arms, “I have an idea in mind. My mother has always been fascinated by human delicacies, and so I thought I might find some to bring back to her. What are your thoughts on accompanying me on this little quest, so to say?”

“What sorts of things would you be bringing her?” you asked as he turned you to face him.

“Well,” König took your hips in his claws and swayed you both from side to side, “I have heard some fascinating things from around this realm. I’ve heard of this fermented shark up in Greenland, but there’s also something called casu martzu from Sardinia, a little island off of Italy.”

“Um, what’s casu martzu?” you asked with a laugh.

“Maggot cheese, I believe it’s also known as,” König explained, laughing at how you scrunched your face.

“Do you think she’d like that?” you held back a gag.

“Well, do you have any better ideas for sweets?” König asked as he danced you around the room.

You looked at him carefully.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No?”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“This is no joking matter, Summoner. Finding the finest sweets to bring back to my mother is of great interest to me.”

“König,” you sighed as you followed König’s steps, “you ate my chocolate, right?”

König leaned back, “I had thought you’d forgotten about that incident…”

“That was my period chocolate, König,” you bit back a snarky remark, “I’m not going to forget that so easily,” you held up a finger to his ‘lips’ (you suspected them to be a beak) and shushed him, “look, did you think the chocolate was what you’d call ‘sweet’?”

König nodded enthusiastically, “Very much so! It was delicious! It was absolutely superb! But of course, such a wondrous treat must be extremely rare, no?”

“I mean, yeah, I had that imported from Switzerland,” you admitted bitterly, “so it wasn’t like any regular old chocolate, but chocolate isn’t too hard to find.”

“Are you implying that I’m overthinking my gift?” König asked suspiciously as he dropped you into a dip, pulling you up just as easily.

“I’m implying that maybe you’re not choosing foods humans would usually consider ‘sweet’,” you explained gently.

König seemed a tad crestfallen, but was quick to recover, “Then why not go and get her some chocolate? Surely if it is as you say, it must be easy to get some of the best to bring back to my mother.”

“Well, I think we’d need to go pretty far to be able to get some,” you explained sadly, “the stuff on base is pretty shit.”

“Then let’s go to this… What did you call it… This Switzerland place!” König crowed, “it mustn't be too far from us.”

“König it’s an ocean away,” you drawled as you smoothly followed his steps around the room, taking a moment to twirl before facing him again, “and no we can’t just go get on a plane right now.”

“Why would we need a plane?” König snorted.

“How else would we get there,” you laughed before stilling, “König you’re not gonna teleport me there.”

“I think you’re being rather small minded right now,” König huffed.

“König I saw what happened to the cookies and the pizza,” you warned him slowly, “I don’t want to be killed by trying to travel through whatever magic thing you use to get around.”

“I think you’ll find I’ve improved my skills,” König sniffed.

“I don’t want to TEST-”

You were cut off by a loud VWOOSH as your world was encompassed by an inky darkness. You felt upside down, right side up and sideways all at once as a flurry of temperatures barraged against your skin. You clenched your eyes tight for fear of them being ripped from your skull. It grew hotter, hotter and hotter as you clenched your hands around König’s middle, holding as tightly as you could against the flurry of winds that threatened to tear you apart. You let out a scream, but it was completely drowned out by the raging winds and the vacuum of space around you.

Just as you ran out of breath, you stumbled to your feet. You carefully opened your eyes to find yourself in a small village square, dancing in König’s arms once again.

“König?” you asked carefully.

“Yes, Summoner?”

“Are we in Switzerland right now?”

König chuckled, “Well I’m glad your mind didn’t get scrambled by the journey.”

“You nearly did what to me!?”

“Hush, Summoner,” König held you in close, “just be happy you’re in one piece. Anyways, I never would have let such harm come to such a precious part of my life.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you rolled your eyes, but relaxed into König’s arms.

“As you should,” König pecked you (quite literally) on the forehead.

“Ow!” you swatted his chest, “you need to stop doing that.”

“What, kissing you?”

“Pecking me!”

“Ah,” the bones under König’s hood cracked and pulled briefly before settling into a new place. He leaned down again to kiss your forehead, this time with chapped lips behind his mask.

“Thank you,” you smiled before reaching up to kiss his chin.

“Anyways,” König drew you both to a stop, “shall we get Mama some chocolates?”

“Mama?”

“My mother,” König chuckled, “did you forget why we came here?”

You tucked your face into his dark robes, “Of course not. I just didn’t expect you to call your mother ‘Mama’.”

“Mama means everything to me,” König stepped back to take your hands, “now, there should be a chocolate shop nearby. How about we go and get her something sweet?”

You stepped to stand by his side with a smile.

“Sure,” you agreed, “let’s go.”

Konig Masterlist

Konig Alternate Universes

Summoned!Konig

[rainbowravez]

i think it's really disappointing how interesting and complex of a character yul could be instead of being a one-dimensional bigoted racist archetype used as comedic relief.

it would've been so much better if he were a commentary on how the entertainment industry can shape people into genuine horrible people because of the toxic work culture and serve as a contrast to james, who left the industry (or atleast isn't as involved) and how it let him grow as a person, while yul has to stay because he has no choice for other sources of income and how his bitterness and resentment only continues to grow and harbor into the man he is now. imagine if a huge part of his resentment towards james was because of jealousy that he was able to escape the industry, instead of just mostly being because he poisoned him with mushrooms last season. what if that's why he was so angry that james tried to lecture him because james has no clue what it's like for him and that he has the nerve to question him when he feels james had the privilege of being able to escape. he's angry that someone who could relate to his struggles now is just like everyone else; an outsider of how bad the workforce he's in is and he's truly alone again with nobody to confide in because he hates the only other person who can relate, grett.

his relationship with grett is implied to be forced upon him and this could've been so interesting to explore. in the first few episodes it seems like he has genuine moments with her. what if a part of him actually loved her because he finally has someone who can relate, but because he was forced into this position he sees her as his captor who is the embodiment of how he will never have the ability to make his own choices. they got the right idea when he's talking to james on the bike, where he says "when i win the 3 million, i'll never have to listen to anyone", but it's ruined when it's just chalked up to him being like "i dont want a fat girlfriend cuz shes ugly and im not". it could've been a commentary on how k-pop stars are often objectified by their fanbase and their employers and how little control they have in their lives, especially being recruited at a young age (WHICH IS LITERALLY STATED IN THE SHOW!!! WHEN HE SAID A VIDEO OF HIM DANCING BLEW UP!!) and the mental toll it has. he's so cruel to her because of his frustration with his situation and a want for her to leave, both using her as a punching bag for his lack of control while simultaneously trying to make her leave him as a way to regain the little control he has over himself.

the biggest flaw of yul's characterization is how his bigotry is NEVER called out. yes, the point is that he's SUPPOSED to be unlikable, but nobody ever says he's being racist and why it's wrong (besides gabby when she defends grett), they say it's to make us hate him more but if THESE THINGS AREN'T CALLED OUT, especially to their young fanbase of young teens, it comes across as just out-of-pocket "dark" humor that relies of shock value to make the audience laugh, which insinuates that it's okay. he's literally just saying bigoted shit for the sake of it. you can write an unlikable character without making him drop obscenities every moment he's on screen. it's bad writing and an easy opt out that takes little effort to write and has become normalized in the show, esp. considering how the spanish va of yul improvised a racist line (calling james a monkey) and how they just let it slide because "oh well it's in character". if your voice actor is randomly saying racist stuff that's not even in the script and you allow it to slide, your team has a serious problem.

there's so many characters that are intertwined with the entertainment industry (riya, james, grett, yul) and so many of the ideas are THERE but they aren't dived into and these characters end up being one-note as a result, like yul and riya. the best we can do is infer but that can only go so far. maybe i'm asking too much for a total drama inspired series to have complex writing and nuance, but if you want to differentiate and distance yourself from total drama (esp. when it prides it's writing as being more complex than total drama) maybe actually put some effort into making complex characters and not using them as a puppet to make bigoted remarks.

[ruthwritesalot]

I finally watched Wicked and I have thoughts (I haven't read anyone else's takes because I didn't want to spoil myself so these are purely my own thoughts right after seeing the movie).

In the beginning, when Glinda and Elphaba were singing about how much they hated each other, I was sure there was gonna be enough queerbaiting for everyone on Tumblr to be rightfully mad. I usually don't end up shipping the queer couple everyone is, I think a lot of the time I feel like relationships in shows seem forced in general? But I immediately thought about it here. I mean, 'What is this feeling I felt the moment I laid eyes on you'? Then, the guy showed up, and I actually thought he was pretty sweet. He treated Elphaba normally right from the start, and he didn't seem to know how ean Glinda was yet when he got with her (the scene during the dance when he says it's not your fault). And then, Glinda's 'redemption arc' was entirely unsatisfactory (which I know was the point, but these are my thoughts in the middle of the movie and I knew very little about the plot). I know Glinda was never supposed to actually be good, but I was still frustrated by how easily Elphaba forgave her and called her her best friend. I guess I can understand that when you have no friends your entire life, your standards can be low (I'm speaking from experience). Still, I wish she's given a little more pushback during the makeover scene. None of that really matters, though, because Elphaba chose being an anti-fascist over going along with Glinda's bullshit (even though there I was also kind of annoyed by how amicably they seemed to part ways, Elfaba still calling Glinda her friend?) Anyway, I guess what I'm getting at is that though I'd also like it if Elphaba simply didn't have a love interest, I like the dudebro more than Elphaba and Glinda. I don't know if that's unpopular, I haven't read any takes yet. I think I'd like it most if he was her knew best friend. A lot of the time dudes that are supposed to be incredible in movies are actually pretty mediore, but he helped her with the animal and went after her.

The movie portrayed bullying so much more accurately than most movies. I don't mean the musical scenes where everyone was disgusted by her, I mean Glinda's subtle things. The hat, constantly saying condescending things packaged in niceness, etc.

I'm not sure where I stand on her sister. I don't know if her being embarassed by Elphaba's presence in the beginning (before she did the magic, when thet were talking to the teacher) was because she was embarassed of her older sister babysitting her or Elphaba being green. I do hope she and Elphaba find each other again.

A lot of the scenes genuinely fucked me up, they were so accurate to the rise of fascism we're seeing right now. I cried during so many of the creature's scenes, and during the painful transformation of the monkey. I don't want to speak a lot on how welm the racism allegory was done (I do always wonder about the fact that in movie's like this, the racism is only about the literal color of her skin. As the only green person, there's not any culture or other things that minorities are also opressed for in the real world. The animals had more of that, though. I think I'll read more about how people felt about that, because as a white person I obviously can't say if it spone to my experience or not.)

A lot of the time Ariana Grande was singing so high I had trouble understanding the words. To be fair, the theater I was watching it at had german subtitles and watching in one language and reading in another is very confusing when you're fluent in both

[stinkysam]

Monkey D. Luffy - Dancer

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "Opla Luffy x male reader who’s a dancer and incorporates it into his fighting style, reader is a bit taller than luffy and also wears rlly flowwy/ loose clothes" - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

Luffy found you cool as soon as he saw you fighting. Not that he didn't find you cool before. But that really escalated when he saw you in action.

He couldn't help but jump in place, his body moving as if to imitate you. He's absolutely mesmerized by your movements and how your clothes move.

Luffy absolutely loves what you're wearing and often steals them. He likes loose clothing too. Though he prefers when you're the one wearing it because you look much cooler.

It looks like waves as you dance. Like you're the wind playing with the seas, throwing the unwanted pirates or marines with a powerful blow.

He really can't stop looking at you. You're so majestic. You're moving so gracefully. Makes him wonder if he can move like that too. He might even try to imitate you as he fights, which looks quite different than you. 

While your dancing is more elegant and controlled, his is like he's constantly exploding, like he cannot contain himself. Even if it's ballet.

He likes dancing with you, without the fighting. Your dancing styles are not complimentary at all. One always radiates joy and happiness, pure chaos and deranged while the other expresses various emotions with ease and elegance.

Luffy truly believes he's good at dancing and will want to teach you how to dance like him. In a sense he can, it teaches you to let go of the rules you've learnt and followed, to dance more freely and heartfully.

He likes to sing too, so he'll definitely sing random stuff for you to dance on it. Even if it's dumb songs, which happens quite often.

It's not a secret he finds you and your technique really cool and he's really proud of you for finding yourself. He can't wait to see you evolve through the adventures you're gonna live.

He wonders what music you have in mind when you fight. He definitely wants to listen to it too. 

He's really confused if it's a peaceful and calm song. How do you get the funny silly vibes from it ? How do you get your cells to vibrate to such a calm song ? But… whatever floats your boat, he supposes !? Hah ! You're such a weirdo sometimes !

If you don't listen to music at all when fighting he's a bit perplexed and even more confused by you. How can you move like that without the sound of music ? You're doing a whole choreography out there and the only music in your ears is the sound of your enemies dropping on the ground ?

If you tell him that he'll stare at you before laughing. You're really really weird and funny ! That's why he likes you.

But if you do listen to an energetic song, he might hum it from time to time as he's reminiscing about your fights. He's not the kind of person to have songs in his head when he fights, he's fully focused on his opponents and how to win. The only time his chaotic thinking is somewhat tuned down.

He doesn't mind that you're taller than him. In fact, you're just tall enough for him to stand right under your chin, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

He likes that. He doesn't care that he has to look up to look you in the eyes, a lot of people are taller than him, that's just how it is.

You can't tease him about his size because he'll just… stretch his neck to make himself taller. It's quite scary to watch him pull his head upward, straining a bit as he does so before it finally stretches naturally, his neck the length of his arm.