#But predictably more effort went into her model

[minweber]

Magos Theodora Oikodomos, the Heiress of the Condemned Forge, Artisan Majoris and a Cawl Minor.

[tkwrites]

Happy Birthday, Quinn - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Title: Happy Birthday, Quinn - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: In an effort to get Quinn something he can’t get for himself, and with her friends’ encouragement, Sarah does something she never imagined she’d do before. When they finally celebrate his birthday together, Quinn opens several gifts he never expected. 

Warnings: It’s mostly fluff, but there is some anxiety about being in new, uncomfortable situations and some suggestive themes, but no actual smut.

Word Count: 2,700

Comments: Happy birthday to Quinn! 

I’ve been working on this piece for quite a long time. At least six months, tweaking it here and there to get the right themes and wording. I saved it for Quinns birthday because I can’t think of a better day for it to come into the world.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Happy Birthday, Quinn

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“What do you give the guy who can get whatever he wants?” Sarah asked.

Emma paused, thoughtful. She knew what she would get Brady, but while they were best friends, he and Quinn were so different. 

“What if you gave him some photos?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like a boudoir shoot or something. So he can have some really great pictures of you while he’s on the road.” 

Sarah felt herself flush. 

“It’s just an idea,” Emma emphasized. “Is there any lingerie he really likes?” 

“Not really,” she started, then it came to her, “there is this bikini he kind of went wild over this summer.” 

“Perfect,” Emma beamed. “You could do a beach photoshoot for him.” 

“I don’t know… Are you sure it's something he would even like?”

Emma gave her a deadpan look over the FaceTime connection even as she adjusted the baby. “You have a boyfriend who travels away from you for weeks at a time. You don't think he'd like having some pretty pictures of you while he's gone?” 

Sarah snorted, “okay. I get it. But where do I even start with that? Just have my roommates take some pictures?” 

“No!” Emma laughed, “ask one of the wives or girlfriends. They’ll know some photographers that will keep things quiet so it can be a little more professional.” 

Just as Emma predicted, when Sarah called Bella the next day, she did know someone.

As they discussed details, she even suggested they could go to her Uncles’ to use the beach across the street from their house. 

“Are you joking?” Sarah asked. “He’d have my hide if I showed up to take bikini photos for my boyfriend.”

Bella laughed and said she had some friends with private beaches and would get back to her if they could use one of theirs. 

When she called back just a few hours later, Sarah was a little surprised. 

“Thanks so much for your help with this,” she said.

“Of course. I love you, and I love Huggy, and I love finally seeing him really happy.” 

After they set up the details, including Bella booking a hair stylist and a makeup artist, which Sarah thought was a little extreme, Bella asked, “Do you want me and Meghan to come for moral support?” 

“That would be really nice,” Sarah said, breathing a sign of relief. “I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing here. I'm just trying to give Quinn something he'll really like for his birthday.” 

A week later, they drove to Bella’s friend's “cottage.” It was really a mansion, but who was she to judge?

The boys were in Victoria for training camp, so it was the perfect time to sneak away.

When Sarah came out in the bikini, Bella wolf whistled. “No wonder Huggy went wild for you in this. You look insane.” she said, looking her over approvingly. “He’s going to lose his mind over these photos.”

It took a long time for Sarah to feel comfortable. She felt too on display - too exposed, and like she was pretending to be something she wasn’t. She wasn’t a model. She didn’t know how to pose for photos or turn on sex appeal at the drop of a hat. 

As if sensing how stuck in her head she was, Meghan offered some support.

“Sarah,” she said, walking down the beach to her, “you’re taking photos for a man that’s already head over heels for you. No one else is going to see them but you and him - and us very briefly.”

She nodded, feeling a little better. She was doing this for Quinn. She could do this for Quinn. 

Taking the photographers advice, she posed and made eye contact with the camera. 

“There you go,” Bella encouraged. 

“Rock more onto your knees,” Heather, the photographer, instructed. “Good. Chin up a bit? Great. Now give me some of those sexy bedroom eyes.” 

Sarah pushed her hesitations aside, thought about Quinn on the other side of that camera, and tried to convey how much she wanted him. 

“Hot damn!” Meghan yelled. “You’ve got me hot and bothered, Sarah. Quinn doesn’t stand a chance.” 

Her exclamation sent Sarah into a fit of giggles that took her quite a while for her to come down from.

Once she’d stopped laughing and settled back into the situation, they got a ton more photos, including a few of her, Bella and Meghan, the latter two in their street clothes, while Sarah still sported her bikini, laughing as the surf swirled around their ankles. 

Not for the first time, Sarah understood how being a WAG really could be a support group. 

They spent the evening of his birthday together at home, ordering in from Quinn's favorite restaurant. 

By the time they got to opening gifts, Sarah was feeling nervous and giddy. She left a small pile of presents on the table in front of the gray suede couch along with a bouquet of flowers because “men hardly ever get flowers, but you like them.” It was full of frothy looking, multi colored blooms mixed with greenery. He found he did like them. No one had ever given him flowers before.

He opened a set of cufflinks shaped like tiny bombs. They were attached to a card that read, Love is the Bomb. It made him laugh, and he told her, truthfully, that he loved them. 

“They’re made from recycled landmines cleared out of Laos from the Vietnam War,” she explained. “I know you really liked that Fields of Fire book. I thought you might like the connection,” she added. 

“That’s really cool,” he said, touched. He rarely wore french cut dress shirts, but now that he had a pair of unique cufflinks, maybe he would wear the ones he did have a little more. 

“Thank you,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to her lips. 

“You’re welcome.”

Then, he unwrapped a vibrator. 

Raising one eyebrow, he told her, “I don’t think this is a gift for me.” 

“Let me explain,” she said, reaching for the box. 

She worked the hot pink, U-shaped device out of the packaging and turned it on. “It’s bluetooth and app enabled,” she said, pulling out her phone so she could connect the devices.

“Okay.” 

“Give me your phone,” she said, holding out her hand. 

He did, and she put in the code to unlock it before downloading an app — she had to hand it back to him to approve the purchase — and linking his phone to the toy.

“Now, anytime I turn it on and connect my phone, it’ll send you an alert.” 

“Okay.”

“And then you can control it.”

Realization lit his face, “oh, so I could be across the room or something?” 

“Or across the country,” she said with a mischievous grin. 

“Wait. For real?” 

Sarah nodded. “The reviews from long distance couples are all really good.”

“I wish we had it this summer,” he said, picking up the toy. It whirred to life in his palm when he tapped the button on his phone.

“That’s what gave me the idea.”

An eager expression took over his face. “Can we go try it?”

“Hold on, Romeo, I have one more gift for you.”

Tearing his eyes from the buzzing pink contraption, Quinn found Sarah biting her lip and looking at him, unsure. He’d never seen her so nervous. He wondered if she might be getting ready to do some kind of strip tease. 

Excitement fizzed in his stomach. 

Instead, she reached behind her, pulling out a small silver picture frame.  

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her. It held blank black glass.

“It’s a digital picture frame,” she explained. “It’s not so much the gift as what’s on it.” 

Quinn felt his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t understand.” 

“Just,” she reached over and held down the power button. 

An involuntary noise, something between a gasp and a groan, gurgled in Quinn's throat when the frame booted up. 

It showed Sarah, on the beach in that fucking black bikini, posing like she was on the cover of a magazine. She was laughing as she swept her wind blown hair away from her face. 

All those intense, lusty feelings from the cabin crashed over him. It wasn't as good as the real thing, of course, but God, if it didn't make him feel things.

“Sarah,” his voice sounded breathy - shallow and needy.

The photo faded into another. Still, that goddamn bikini, still the beach, but a different pose. This time, she was sporting a cocky smile, like she knew he would like it. 

He did. He couldn’t believe it. 

The slideshow continued on, all of the photos were on the same beach, in the same bikini. In some, she was standing, others laying down. There was even a short, looping video, or live photo, or whatever it was, of her crawling toward the camera - never breaking eye contact. 

His tongue felt weighted with longing. 

When the last photo de-pixelated, his eyes blew wide. 

Holy. 

Fuck.

She was kneeling in the sand, knees spread as the water raced up the beach around her.

She had this sultry look in her eyes as they looked straight into his soul. Her lips were parted, just slightly, as if she was waiting to be kissed. 

“I thought you could take the pictures on the road with you,” she said quietly. 

When he tore his eyes away from her face, they caught on her hand, fisted into the wet sand, almost as if she were holding herself back.

A bolt of energy rippled up his stomach, making it flutter and twist in longing.

Looking up from the frame, he met Sarah's eyes and blinked a few times, trying to pull himself back to the present.

“I hope It's not too cheesy or anything,” she said shyly. The photos were returned long before Quinn's birthday came around, and Sarah blushed every time she looked at them. She had no idea she could look like that. It was proof that the right photographer, lighting, and positioning could do wonders. 

“It's…” His voice croaked, and he had to clear his throat. This was honestly something he never would have expected from Sarah. 

He cleared his throat again. “It's - I don't even know what to say,” he confessed. 

“That bad?” she asked, voice hesitant  

“No!” It came out too loud. “It’s — fuck.” He ran a hand into his hair. He didn't know what to say. He was in shock. “I mean, I can't believe…” 

“You're not making any sense.”

He didn’t have enough blood in his brain to reason properly.

Finally, he managed to get his thoughts in order. “I love it. It's like you gave me my own Swimsuit Edition, except it’s you instead of some model I don't care about.”

Her shoulders relaxed. 

“Were you worried I wouldn't like it?” 

“No, not really. Like, I knew objectively you would, but I've never done anything like this before.” 

The fact that she did it for him burrowed into his heart and rioted around his mind.

“I was a little surprised,” he admitted.

“Emma suggested it,” Sarah confessed. 

Quinn made a mental note to tell her thank you.

The shock of the photos pulled his mind completely from everything else. He didn’t even notice Sarah had picked up the vibrator, turned it off, and nestled it back into its box. 

“Do you want some dessert?” she asked, standing. “I got some of those chocolate from Gem you like.” Normally, she would have bought him a cake, but he tried not to eat carbs during the season. So fruit and chocolate would have to do.

Beaming, Quinn pulled her into his lap, “you’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve to be spoiled on your birthday,” she said, turning to brush her lips over his. 

He fell into the kiss, glad to finally be touching her. 

“So what do you think about that dessert?” she asked when he broke away to nuzzle his nose under her ear.

Quinn sucked in a deep breath of her perfume before blowing on her neck, making her squirm. “I think I have dessert right here,” he murmured, tightening his grip on her waist. 

She snorted. 

His hands wandered up to her chest, feeling the curves of her breasts in his palms. “What kind of chocolate did you get?” he asked. 

“A few,” she said, leaning into him, “I got that dark mint one you liked, and the rum one, and some new ones. I don’t really remember. I’m pretty sure one has peanut butter.” They’d discovered the chocolate shop while wandering the city together. Made with all local, organic ingredients, they were delicious, and though not necessarily healthy, it was better for Quinn to eat a few pieces of chocolate than cake. “I’ll go get them.”

Coming back upstairs with the chocolates, Sarah slid the open box onto the table. Quinn was looking at the picture frame again, shaking his head gently as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“Here, I think this one is pistachio,” she said, picking up a chocolate with green stripes on the top, “or maybe it's matcha?” 

He took a bite of the proffered candy, his eyes fluttering closed at the sweet and salty flavor. 

“Pistachio,” she declared after putting the rest of it in her mouth and licking off the chocolate that had melted on her fingers. 

He hummed in agreement, eyes caught on her tongue. 

“Oh, before I forget,” she pulled a USB drive from her pocket and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” 

“The pictures are on that.” 

A relieved breath escaped his lips. 

“You didn’t think I was just going to make you take that frame around, did you?”

“I don’t know," he said, laughing, "I didn’t think...” 

“You can put them on your phone or whatever,” she said. 

“Can I…” he paused, mentally looping through slideshow again, “do you mind if I use them as my phone background?”

“They're your gift, and it's your phone,” Sarah said instead of voicing her concern that someone other than him might catch a glimpse of her like this. She trusted that Quinn wouldn’t go around showing them off to other people. 

She picked up the mint chocolate and took a bite. When she offered him the other half, he took her fingers in his mouth to get every sweet drop. 

A week later, Quinn, Conor, and Brock were at a restaurant in Winnipeg. Each of them had their phone face up on the table in front of their dinner plate.

Quinns screen lit up. 

“You didn’t turn off your notifications? Rookie mistake Hughes.” 

Quinn scoffed, “it doesn’t count if you turn off your notifications.” 

“Of course it counts,” Conor argued.

“Why would you touch your phone if it’s not going off, dipshit?”

“I think he’s got a point,” Brock admitted with a defeated sigh. 

“Do you have yours off too?” Quinn asked. 

Brock shrugged. 

“You have to turn them back on. We have to be on a level playing field here.”

The other men reached for their phones, grumbling. 

Quinn’s went off again as they put theirs back down. 

“Is that Sarah?” Conor asked, craning his neck to look at the photo.

“Yeah, why?” he asked, resisting the urge to pick it up. Whoever touched their phone first had to pay for dinner. 

The lock screen was the photo of Sarah laughing, trying to tame her hair as it blew in the wind. 

After looking through all the pictures several times, Quinn had decided this was his favorite. He could almost hear her laughing whenever he saw it. Plus, he didn’t want anything too racy where anyone else could see it. He kept those for himself. 

“Is that the photoshoot Meg helped her with?” 

“I don’t know?” he said. “She did it for my birthday.” It felt a little like bragging – which he was, if he was honest with himself – to say it out loud.  

“Yeah, that’s it,” Brock said. “Bells told me about it during training camp. She and Meg helped Sarah set it up.”

“Oh,” Quinn said, not quite sure what else to say. The fact that she’d reached out for help so she could do this for him, even when she was uncomfortable, meant the world to him. 

“I wish Meg’d taken bikini photos for me while they were at it,” Conor mumbled. 

Quinn felt a smile beam over his face. 

“You are one lucky man, Huggy.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[linjames41]

Getting a Haircut, and the Salon Owner Told Me That the Post That Moved Me Was Written by AI

It wasn't until Saturday night, when I went to my regular hair salon for a haircut, that things began to change. The auntie who’s been cutting my hair for over a decade started talking about the accounting profession. She has two daughters, both preparing for the college entrance exams this year, and they’re trying to decide on a major. I told her that accounting is a relatively stable career with good prospects. If their grades are excellent, they could even consider AI fields like algorithms, computing power, and data processing, all of which are full of opportunities. The auntie agreed, even mentioning the story of Luo Fuli, a 95-year-old AI genius from the post-95 generation. She said that technology is progressing so fast that even while cutting hair, she takes on part-time jobs. Occasionally, when she doesn’t know how to write an advertisement copy, she turns to AI for help. I was shocked to learn that the ads she posts on WeChat are actually AI-generated! I hadn't realized how seamlessly AI had integrated into our daily lives.

Reflecting on my own 2024, after a busy first half of the year, I joined XXAI in August and began working on AI projects. While I had already been using GPT since 2023, back then I mostly treated it like a smart search engine. But as I learned more about AI models, I began to understand how to use them to write more creative and insightful articles. I witnessed the constant updates and iterations of AI models, making them more powerful and intelligent.

In 2024, AI has become smarter and more powerful, and I, too, have grown along the way. Life often presents questions without answers, and sometimes we don’t know who to talk to. I’ve found that AI can sometimes serve as a "Doraemon," helping us find answers.

I recall a while ago when the tragic story of a 13-year-old middle school student from Handan who was murdered and buried by three classmates made headlines. It sparked widespread discussions online, with many calling for the death penalty. When I came across the topic, I found myself deeply thinking, but I didn’t have a clear answer. Later, I posed the question to GPT, and one particular sentence from its response has stayed with me: "The different voices on such cases reflect the public’s expectations of the legal and judicial systems, especially regarding minors who commit severe criminal acts." That sentence made me realize that the current legal framework’s punitive measures might have reached their limit. But this doesn’t mean we should stop thinking about how to improve the law. Society is evolving, the law is evolving, and each of us is striving for better.

On the last day of 2024, I sat in my office, browsing through various year-end summaries from different platforms. I, too, silently reflected on my own 2024. “2024 has come to an end, will 2025 be better? Will I be better?” Habitually, I posed this question to GPT.

GPT responded, "2024 has indeed passed, and it’s quite moving. As for 2025, who can predict the future? But from a personal growth and global progress perspective, we are all moving forward. Technology, especially in AI, will continue to advance, potentially bringing even greater changes to our work and lives, making us more efficient, convenient, and even more creative. For you, as someone deeply involved in the AI field, you will undoubtedly play an increasingly important role and may face more opportunities and challenges. As for whether the world will become better, although there are many complex global issues, countless people are striving to make a difference. Every effort accumulates power, and in some areas, the world may improve. You, too, will get better, because each day's progress shapes you, and every challenge and thought enhances your abilities and perspective. No matter what the future holds, what matters is that you continue to believe in your growth and the potential of the world, and pursue the 'better' you hope for."

And just like that, 2024 came to an end. Looking back, this year has been extraordinary with AI’s development, but what truly touched me were the moments when AI transformed lives. AI is no longer just cold code; it’s become a part of our lives, bringing touch, companionship, and change.

2025 may be a new beginning or just another step on our journey toward greater accomplishments.

Either way, I believe that in 2025, both we and AI will continue to improve.

[bllsbailey]

Here's What Has Dem Pollsters Panicking About Kamala Harris

Like the New York Giants trying to fix their offensive line issues, among other things, Democratic pollsters have been working for years trying to make sure they can nail their projections. It hasn’t been successful. Donald J. Trump wrecked the ship in more ways than one, with two presidential elections where these firms had underestimated the former president’s support. Joe Biden barely won the 2020 race, now an open secret since Democratic donors and party bosses rolled that old man off a cliff in July. At this point in the race four years ago, Biden was ahead of Trump by seven points. Kamala Harris, who was coronated last week after the Biden coup, is trailing Trump by the same amount. 

Harris’ takeover has injected more enthusiasm into the Democratic Party base, and the cash flows back into the war chests. Still, Democratic pollsters are offering a fair warning that Harris’ position, while better than Biden’s, isn’t good. In their models, she’s tied with Trump in the swing states, though methods used to gauge voter preferences show that it’s still Trump’s election to lose. Yet, some of the reasons for their panicking are somewhat entertaining. In short, Democrats still struggle with the low-propensity voters, the folks they view as idiots, coming out of the woodwork during presidential cycles (via Politico): 

So now that Kamala Harris has caught Trump in the polls in her first month as a candidate, it’s left Democrats wondering: How real is her surge?  Here at the Democratic convention this week, some in the party’s professional class are trying to tamp down the exuberance. Officials with the top pro-Harris super PAC said their polling “is much less rosy” than public surveys. Other Democratic pollsters noted that — even if their polling is right — Trump still maintains a lot of advantages.  “It’s still a very tough race, and that feels consistent with everything we know,” said Margie Omero, a partner at the Democratic polling firm GBAO Strategies.  There are plenty of warning signs hidden in the data: A poll commissioned by the Democratic messaging firm Navigator Research and unveiled during the convention showed Harris and Trump essentially tied across the swing-state map. And the candidate characteristics that are best correlated with voters’ preferences — whether a candidate is up to the job, has the right vision and is a strong leader — generally favored Trump in the survey.  […]  One major part of the effort was a lengthy experiment in the swing state of Wisconsin. The goal wasn’t to predict the result of an election; it was to see which voters could be captured by a monthslong survey using multiple ways of finding people, including a door-to-door component — and how that group differs from the voters reached in the typical phone or web surveys conducted over the course of a few days.  The main finding: Standard polls capture voters who are more engaged with politics and consider it more important to their identity. That kind of bias wouldn’t necessarily cause problems in a low-turnout election, like an off year or midterm, because those are exactly the kind of voters who show up. But in a presidential race, when lower-propensity voters also turn out, that could be an issue. And the kind of time, effort and expense that went into getting those voters to participate isn’t scalable in a fast-changing election. 

And these pollsters conceded that the “Wisconsin project” cannot be replicated on the timeline we have right now in the 2024 cycle. Liberals know a tight race breaks for the GOP because this is all about the Electoral College. Second, let’s look at some of these surveys now that RFK Jr. has quit the 2024 race. Mr. Kennedy dropped out last Friday and endorsed Trump; his supporters are likelier to support the former president. We shall see, but the polling issue circles back to something that the political class fails to accept: the Trump coalition is diverse, it's dispersed efficiently geographically, and our system favors candidates who can string together coalitions of this nature.

Trending on Townhall Videos

[darkcircles4lyfe]

retrospective & predictions

Since we're on a hiatus week (between 320 and 321) I feel like waxing poetic about the depth and growth of bkdk for a bit. Especially because it seems like we’re right on the edge of their biggest development yet, I’m getting the urge to lay all my perspectives and insights I’ve picked up from others out on the table. This is ultimately only my subjective interpretation of subtextual material in canon, though. If you’ve never quite understood what people see in their dynamic and you’re actually open to hearing me out, maybe from this you can at least see where we’re coming from. And if you don’t like my takes after all, well, we’ll see who’s right in the coming chapters, won’t we? What I have to say can be taken platonically or romantically; I appreciate both. 

putting it under the cut, since it’ll be long:

At the risk of projecting, I want to start by examining a couple things based partly on personal experience.

From many different directions, I often hear people expressing that Deku’s persistent attachment and admiration for Bakugou is baffling at best. Despite the bullying, despite Bakugou’s loud, rude, and uncompromising personality, he still puts effort into their relationship and frequently describes him as amazing. It seems like Deku himself is aware of this as he’s said things along the lines of how he’s difficult, BUT... etc. Although I don’t think it’s exactly that Deku finds Bakugou’s personality hard to be around, but that he’s deliberately expressing patience for Bakugou’s emotional turmoil. 

I have to say I know what this sort of patience is like, as I went through it with someone I love. I only chose to put up with their behavior because I decided the possibility of what our relationship could be was worth it. I wasn’t blind or submissive to how they treated me, and I wasn’t coerced. I simply expressed myself and established my boundaries while still allowing them the opportunity to join me in my world once they got over their own hangups. And guess what? It worked out in the end. That doesn’t mean there aren’t circumstances where it’s better to cut ties, but I want to stress that true reconciliation is possible sometimes. I used to worry that other people around me thought I was delusional for seeking it, but what really helped was my therapist reminding me that I’m smart and strong. So I think Deku deserves to feel the same. In a way this is his whole mission in life, his approach to being a hero as well as his personal relationships.

Let me also be clear though that I don’t mean Deku is only tolerating Bakugou’s personality, his mannerisms, the parts of him that will likely never change. I’m drawing a line between those things and his emotional state (they so rarely align anyway, but I’ll get to that later). In fact, I think Bakugou’s general attitude is part of what Deku admires. This is gonna be hard to explain without inserting personal experience too, sorry. As a writer myself I’ve noticed I’m drawn to writing characters that are brazen and bold and don't mind telling people off. Really it’s because I operate in the world in the polar opposite way. I try not to draw attention to myself, I’m quiet, and I’m a people-pleaser. People who project confidence, especially in an impolite sort of way, fascinate me. It’s good to take cultural context into account, too: I've heard people who’d know better than me that part of the reason Bakugou is the most popular character in the Japanese fandom is likely because he contradicts a lot of their social norms. His disregard is refreshing and cathartic. I can speculate that Deku has a similar point of view based on what he thinks but does not admit about Bakugou being his image of victory and how this sometimes makes him mimic Bakugou’s speech and mannerisms: 

There’s also the bit in this fight where Deku realizes he's the only one able to receive Bakugou’s emotions. This is because he’s the most intimately familiar with him and his situation, but I think there’s another layer. Deku, as we know, has a self-sacrificing tendency, and in the current chapters we’re seeing the worst side of that. But let’s also not forget that to an extent, it can be a positive trait: resilience. When it comes to Bakugou, he has an almost comical ability to dodge the potential fallout of his outbursts. The example we all jump to (and fight about..) is how in ch1, apart from the initial shock of Bakugou suggesting he jump off the roof, the most he reacts is to criticize him for saying such a ridiculous thing. However, I think their interaction post- sludge villain is a lot more interesting:

Note two things: 1, in his head, Deku is practically making fun of how Bakugou’s acting as he stomps away without waiting for a reply. It doesn’t faze him. 2, Deku thinks, optimistically, that he can now focus on a different career choice. This is astonishing really. Up to this point, none of Bakugou’s attempts to put him down have worked; he just kept pursuing his dream. The only reason Deku concedes in this moment it because for the first time, he has been shown that he really couldn't do anything in a fight against a villain. All Might told him he couldn't be a hero (although he’s literally about to take that back in the next few pages lol) and the other heroes at the scene gave him a lecture about it too. It was those experiences, and not Bakugou’s words, that truly affected him. And when All Might tells Deku he can be a hero after all, it’s not thinking of Bakugou’s bullying that makes him sob and fall to his knees, it’s the memory of his own mom never telling him those words he so desperately needed to hear. Having spent most of their lives together, Deku must have been aware all this time that Baukgou was influenced by larger societal forces rather than a core judgement, so he didn’t take it personally. He separated the person from the action, and because he’s resilient and patient, he is thus equipped to handle Bakugou’s emotions. It’s a testament to his maturity and emotional intelligence, really. 

But I can almost hear some of you saying, “that doesn’t mean Deku should have to be the bigger person here!” Correct! Just because Deku is perfectly alright bearing all of that, doesn’t mean atonement-era Bakugou sees it this way. We can track his awareness of Deku’s care and selflessness as follows-

The bridge scene, when they’re little kids: Bakugou conflates Deku’s heroism with pity, and subsequently thinks Deku is looking down on him because Bakugou’s own insecurity makes him defensive.

The Sludge Villain, and also Deku vs. Kacchan Part 1: Bakugou witnesses first-hand how easily Deku jumps to risk his own life, but still thinks he’s being looked down on. 

The Sports Festival: Bakugou fights Uraraka and recognizes her endurance strategy and refusal to give up as very Deku-like. He’s half right. He thinks Deku advised her in the fight, when in reality she just mimicked Deku because she admired him. I want to draw attention to his very sober comment about her not being frail. It’s a great endearment of Uraraka’s character and Bakugou’s respect for her when others didn’t take “fighting a girl” seriously, but it also reflects on his opinion of Deku. Deku isn’t weak either. He never was.

Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2: Deku finally corrects him about the whole looking-down-on-him thing, and Bakugou is informed that Deku’s selflessness is in fact the reason All Might chose him. Since Bakugou had been in search of what he himself was “doing wrong” for All Might to favor Deku over him, he now has to reconcile the fact that selflessness is a heroic trait, and moreover something he lacks. This is also possibly the first time Bakugou is able to see his past actions toward Deku as bullying since he previously thought it was more mutual. Additionally, Bakugou can now link Deku’s selfless behavior to what he perceived as pity/contempt, and realize that Deku has been giving him A LOT of grace. Maybe too much. Maybe more than Bakugou deserves, and definitely more than Deku should have to. Holy heck- now Bakugou has to figure out how to live up to all the faith that’s been placed in him. 

Subtextually, we can see Bakugou’s feelings about atonement reflected in the Todoroki family:

1, Shouto is another example of Deku growing a friendship using his selflessness (since their fight in the sports festival) and their relationship is being acknowledged here where it hasn’t been in Bakugou’s situation. Perhaps Bakugou is wishing it could be so simple for him, to be able to thank him for being his friend like that. Deku saying the pleasure is all his also probably calls to mind how a mere apology from Bakugou would probably be dismissed because that’s just the kind of accommodating person Deku is. Bakugou has to operate more quietly in order to actually make up for their past. I personally don’t interpret this scene as Bakugou being jealous of Deku and Shouto’s friendship, exactly, just the lack of emotional baggage. Side note, Deku and Fuyumi are kinda similar in their desire to repair relationships. I like that she’s the one to give him some credit. 

2, With the common terminology, this can be interpreted as Bakugou receiving a model for atonement, one that is about action, and nothing to do with receiving favor or forgiveness. It’s a sense of duty. 

Many of the above sentiments are repeated in the flashback conversation between All Might and Bakugou right before Bakugou’s sacrifice. 

Bakugou acknowledges his bullying and that it happened because of his own insecurities, but aside from that, it’s interesting he neither confirms nor denies All Might’s suggestion that he’s trying to atone, or that Deku doesn’t see it that way. All Might is a bit of an unreliable mentor sometimes, but I don’t think he’s misreading here. Rather, Bakugou is displaying his tendency to hold back when talking about things that would make him really emotional. Besides, admitting to what he’s doing kind of defeats the purpose. He isn’t seeking acknowledgement. All Might has gotten to the crux of the issue here when pointing out that Deku doesn’t recognize the atonement, likely because Deku doesn't think Bakugou even needs to atone. Am I reading into it too much to say Bakugou looks wistful at this? It’s kinda frustrating sometimes trying to interpret Bakugou’s actions because he’s so paradoxical. Loud and in your face, but also extremely reserved. Sometimes I feel like I’m grasping at thin air, but hey, being hard to figure out is part of his intrigue as a character. The simplest way to look at him is to assume that unless he’s really showing vulnerability, he’s probably deflecting and hiding something.

Speaking of Bakugou’s tendency to to hold back emotional stuff, there’s his apparent lack of issue with Deku calling him Kacchan. Maybe to begin with, in his warped perception of things where he thought they hated each other, Bakugou saw it as Deku’s way of getting back at him for calling him “useless,” and didn't dare give any indication that it actually bothered him. However... consider how betrayed Bakugou has appeared when he was noticeably thinking Deku was looking down on him- the bridge scene, and the beginning of their first year at UA when he thought Deku was hiding a quirk all along. He looks shocked and hurt. That kind of emotion couldn’t be invoked by someone Bakugou didn’t actually care about his relationship with. “Kacchan” comes from a long time ago, before their relationship was strained, so it’s connotations are pure. Maybe somewhere deep down, Bakugou has always been hoping that Deku’s continued use of the nickname was not simply a matter of habit or teasing, but a vestige of friendship they’re both clinging to, and Bakugou himself was too afraid to admit to himself that he felt this way about it, so he mostly ignored it. (These are not original thoughts I am having here lol, this is a common interpretation. I’m just laying everything out like I said.) 

And now we turn to the current situation. Personally, I’ve been looking frantically back and forth between them wondering who’s going to break down first (Deku vs. Kacchan Part 3, this time it’s just a fight to get the other person to cry? ha.) Both have looked like they’re approaching a breaking point for some time. Also, I’ve addressed this before, but I think it’s significant that Bakugou is no longer wearing his mask with his hero costume, in contrast to Deku recently donning his own. It feels symbolic of Bakugou about to be upfront about how he feels.

The question is, what is it going to take to get Deku to accept help? If you ask me, Deku has dug himself so deeply into the I’m-doing-this-for-everyone-else’s-safety-and-smiles hole, no common sense argument can possibly reach him. By the end of 320, Deku’s mask is off, and we can see how desperate he truly is. But he has not cried, yet. I predict we’re going to see a bit more of his defiance, this time on full display on his face as the remaining class members and his other friends take their turns. But then I think Bakugou has to be the one to break down so Deku can witness his actions having the opposite effect he intended. People have been pointing out that Deku is currently ignoring Bakugou, and oof, that’s gotta be intentional. Regardless of what Bakugou says, it’s going to be wrapped up not only in his understanding of Deku’s self-sacrifice, but also the betrayal Bakugou feels at being ignored/left behind that ironically echoes his previous perception of being looked down on, as well as a need to express how much he cares about Deku before it’s too late. He must show that the two of them are inseparable because they both act to save each other without thinking, and both feel like losing the other would be like dying themselves. All Might may have been right when he told them they could learn from each other after Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2, but he didn’t fully realize that idea by making sure they stuck by each other for support and balance. 

I can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when they do finally get to that point, totally in synch and in tune with each other. They’ll be a powerful force no one is quite prepared for. Who knows when that will be, or even which chapter will be their big showdown, but I know the day is coming.

To speculate even further, I think the 2nd user is going to be really important really soon. And no I don’t mean to suggest that the 2nd user is Bakugou. But I do think their resemblance is key. Okay this is gonna be convoluted...

See how 2nd is the only one still standing? I think that’s symbolic of him withholding his quirk. Deku may not even know what it is at this point, let alone have unlocked it. Given that 2nd approves of Deku’s strategy at this point, it seems odd for him to withhold his quirk based on lack of faith. I think if his quirk was something that would help Deku in combat, he would have shown it to him already like the others did. So what if those gauntlets of his are support items that are meant to make up for his lack of a combat-oriented quirk, rather than to augment it? Mind you, I still have no idea what his mysterious power might be, but I’m dead set on it not being explosion-y. Regardless, I think 2nd looking like Bakugou is more about aiding some grand visual parallel, so! You know how 2nd and 3rd were probably intending to do away with Yoichi but 2nd changed his mind as soon as they made eye contact? This is really a long shot, but I wonder if 2nd’s quirk has something to do with that exchange. Maybe it’s something psychological, or some 6th sense about people he meets. So... in that way 2nd’s quirk could play a role in bkdk reaching a deeper understanding? Idk! But it could be significant at least that 2nd left Yoichi’s question about why he reached out to him unanswered. 

One more thing- while I was gathering screenshots I found this. I think “you’re the last one I’m telling” might be foreshadowing for Bakugou revealing his hero name to Deku and it being a Big Deal:

As for other lingering threads in the overall plot right now, such as the UA traitor, Stain, whatever Tsuyu is apparently about to do, All Might’s car maybe in the background of the last page of 320... man I have no idea. All I know is there’s literally 320 chapters’ worth of build-up to this confrontation that can’t be interrupted. 

See you next week <3

[janamelie]

Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel.  Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required.  (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con.  There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once.  He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot.  What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration.  Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage.  She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets.  The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree.  It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online.  It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.  

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo.  You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie.  DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!”  Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!”  When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two?  That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying.  (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment.  This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”.  Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic.  Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining.  The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I).  He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.  

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it.  He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes.  Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party.  But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke.  Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke?  And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas.  He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon.  We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start.  An hour later we were still waiting.  Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop.  You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see.  Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left.  That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up).  This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe.  Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell.  I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy.  He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things.  He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!”  But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are.  He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!”  (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!”  He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc.  It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie.  Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online.  It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness.  Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit.  He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family.  His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”.  He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig.  No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question.  Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration.  He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat.  This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day.  “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out.  If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett.  I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful.  She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly.  Fortunately mine was the version including him. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees.  Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen.  I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle.  Oh well.  He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition.  This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”.  Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details.  Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item.  This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman.  It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel.  When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality.  We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed.  Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else.  The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end.  The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well.  Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.  

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse.  Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now!  Stop saying yes to things!”  It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit.  Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings.  One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode.  He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him.  Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright.  He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it.  He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance.  Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes.  Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir?  Were you on the telly last night?”  “Yes.”  “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later?  Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny.  Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them.  That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman.  Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes.  Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.  

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.”  What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie!  One episode, that’s all I ask.  As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson.  For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour.  For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping.  Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel.  So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them.  There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!”  It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was.  He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station.  Another great DJ.

[lumelii]

BREAKING IN ~|~ FUSHIGURO TOJI X FEM!READER

Summary: Your business partner and you are celebrating the end of a difficult project. Lucky you. 

Content Warning: nsfw, smut, fwb situation, FEM!READER established "relationship", dilf!Toji, face fucking, slight degradation, face slapping (just once) (if I forgot any let me know)

Note: Big thank you to Moni and @shokami for being my guinea pigs on this one. 

Word Count: 5.1k

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There were few things Toji liked about traveling for work. He liked seeing new places. He hated long plane rides. Hotels were nice, but sleeping on the mattresses for too long wreaked havoc on his back. He enjoyed making new business connections. Most importantly, however, he hated leaving his kids for long periods.

They were on his mind now, as he checked his phone periodically through the business party he was attending, celebrating the completion of another building Fushiguro Design Group had planned and engineered, this time in New York City. It was almost time for them to go to school in Tokyo, usually one of them called before they left so he knew they were up. His finger paused over the home phone contact for a moment before he put it away with a sigh. Megumi and Tsumiki were both teenagers now, almost in high school. They didn’t need him hovering all the time.

“Congratulations on another success, Mr. Fushiguro.” One of the executives of the company who contracted the firm came up to shake his hand. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

“It was a group effort.” His eyes searched the room, hoping to find a distraction to get him out of this conversation before he put his foot in his mouth. He didn’t deal with clients, he had employees who did that. He wasn’t great at curtailing his frustrations when in conversation. Especially with this client, who changed their design at least four times, which meant he had to redo all the math. Four times.

Luckily, his distraction came just a few seconds later as his phone began to ring. Looking at the caller ID, he felt a wave of relief seeing his home phone number. At least that meant one of the kids was up. He wasn’t counting on Gojou.

“Please excuse me.” Toji stepped away and walked out onto the balcony just off the ballroom, closing the door securely behind him before answering.

“DAD!” He held the phone away from his ear just slightly when Tsumiki yelled even before he said hello. He brought it back to his ear once he was sure his eardrum wouldn’t be ruptured.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” He answered sarcastically. “How are you? Getting ready for school?”

“Megumi stole my notebook again!”

“I did NOT!” Toji heard Megumi yell in the background.

“It had my homework in it! If I don’t get it back, the teacher is going to dock points!”

“Did you already look in your backpack? Everywhere in your room?”

“No, because Megumi took it!”

“Princess, look in your backpack and your room first. If you can’t find it, have Gojou help you. Now give the phone to Megumi.”

He heard her huff and set the receiver down, yelling for Megumi to get on the phone. A few moments later, the receiver was picked up again. This time, Megumi’s voice. “Hi Dad.”

“I swear to god, Megumi, if you have her notebook and you’re lying about it just to bother her—” Toji warned.

“I’m NOT!” He yelled again. “I was over at Yuuji’s house last night anyway, why would I need her homework when we did ours together?”

“Why weren’t you home last night?” Toji’s eyes narrowed even though his son couldn’t see him. “It’s a school night.”

“Yuuji and I were working on homework. Plus his neighbor made sweets. She sent some home with me. I’ll save you some. Are you coming home soon?” His tone was hopeful. It made Toji’s chest hurt. He missed his family.

“I’m going to be on the first flight back tomorrow morning, I promise.” Toji told him. “Are you ready for school?”

“Not yet. I can’t find my slacks.”

“Look on the right side of your closet, they’re probably in there. Where’s Gojou? Can you put him on the phone?”

“I think he’s still sleeping.” The phone was set down again, and Toji had to wait what felt like forever until he finally heard Gojou grumbling on the other end of the line.

“G’morning sunshine.” He yawned. “What’s up?”

“Are you aware the kids are ready to tear each other’s throats out?” Toji frowned. “And why are you still sleeping? They’re almost ready to leave for school.”

“Kento was on the phone late last night freaking out, I had to calm him down.” Gojou stifled a yawn again. “I made sure they have their breakfast and their school stuff is ready.”

“Tsumiki’s missing her notebook.”

“It was in the living room last I saw, I’ll make sure one of the dogs didn’t take it.”

“I KNEW IT!” Tsumiki screeched in the background.

“Shit, I have to go, Toji. Call later.”

The line went dead before Toji could ask any questions. He looked down at his lock screen with a frown, debating on calling back but ultimately deciding against it while he put his phone away. He would call later once both kids were at school, and keep an eye out for breaking news of fratricide in Tokyo.

He looked to the balcony doors when they opened, relaxing slightly when he saw his preferred distraction walking out with two drinks in hand. 

You closed the door behind you before walking up to him, holding out his favorite, an Old Fashioned. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

He took the proffered drink and downed it in one gulp while you sipped your Gibson carefully. “Am I that predictable?”

“When it comes to these kinds of parties, yes. Either you were about to lose your temper and needed a breather, or you had to take a call.” You answered. “Problems at home?”

Toji shook his head. “Just wish we were back.”

“It’s been a month. I can’t wait to get back to Tokyo. No matter what anyone says, no one can beat Tokyo ramen.” You leaned your elbows on the balcony railing. He leaned next to you, copying your pose while you both looked over the glittering New York skyline in silence.

“Why don’t we focus on projects at home for a while?” You offered. “Or in Japan, at least. That way we wouldn’t have to be gone for too long, you’d still be able to go home at night.”

“We have some pretty big clients lined up in Dubai and Europe. I don’t think they’d want to wait until we felt like traveling again.”

“You’re the boss. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” You reminded him with a smile. “I can take someone else with me, then send the specs once we’re done. I’ll even let you pick your stand-in.”

“I’ll pick my stand-in whether you like them or not.” He smirked before continuing. “I’m the boss.”

You rolled your eyes and took another drink. “Just don’t make it fucking Ren. I can’t stand that asswipe.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He promised.

The conversation wasn’t typical between a boss and employee, but you were more than that. You were partners at the firm, Toji was just the one in charge. You’d built the firm together from the ground up, making it the success it was today.

He had come to you, needing an architect for his own firm back when it was only an idea, offering two-hundred million yen out of his personal coffers as an incentive. But it wasn’t the money that had made you say yes. It was the almost maniacal determination in his eyes. He had something to prove, and he would burn the world to the ground to do it.

You learned later his wife had just died a few weeks prior, and it was part of his promise to her on her deathbed that he follow through with his plan of opening his firm. You’d been with him since the beginning, in the early days where you both spent countless sleepless nights completing projects other firms only dared to take on, through the intervention staged by his two closest friends Nanami Kento and Gojou Satoru, as Toji became consumed by his work as a way to suppress his grief, to the point where his son almost didn’t recognize him when he came home. You’d been by his side through the boom of success that befell the firm just a few short years after its founding, along with the money that soon flooded both your pockets, and his second “marriage” to a model he met at a film festival, who promptly disappeared after moving her daughter into his home. He had been surprisingly calm through the whole ordeal, submitting the paperwork to make Tsumiki his own once they were completely certain her mother was never coming back, with a hefty cash incentive and NDA to tie it with a nice bow.

He’d been through a fair amount with you as well, dealing with toxic family that had come out of the woodwork as the company started to increase your wealth, demanding money for so-called “investments” they had made into you by providing basic care until you finally left at fifteen. Through the sudden death of your fiancé, where Toji was the only one who could understand and help you navigate through the unending darkness that consumed your life for almost a year afterwards. He’d ignored some of your questionable choices as you tried to adjust to your new normal, but also was not afraid to step in when necessary if the choices turned destructive. You had thought it was just to protect the interest of the firm, but when he had come to your apartment after a sobbing phone call on the anniversary of your fiancé’s death and held you so you wouldn’t feel so alone, you knew it was because he cared about you.

“Are you ready to go back inside?” You asked after watching the sunset sink below the horizon, breaking you both out of your reflection.

“I’d rather drive an ice pick through my skull.” He admitted. 

You laughed, the sound echoing off the glass windows and empty air around you. “We could always dip.”

“Wouldn’t they be offended, us leaving early?” He turned to face you with one hand on the railing. You ignored the way his suit jacket strained against the hard planes of his chest.

“Mari’s in there, it’ll be fine.” You said, referring to your project manager. “She loves people. She’ll have them eating out of the palm of her hand.”

“If you say so.” He took the empty glass from you, setting it on the railing before taking your hand to thread it through his arm. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

You made a hasty exit from the party, repeating your excuse of an early flight at least a dozen times so no one would hinder your escape. No one bothered to ask follow-up questions. If they had, they might have found out you were flying private back to Tokyo, and the plane could leave whenever you goddamn pleased, obliterating your excuse.

Luckily, the lie held until you were safely in the cab of an elevator, heading up to the floor that held your two hotel rooms. The company had offered the two massive adjacent suites to you both, taking up an entire floor of the newly constructed hotel. Toji probably could have brought his kids if he had wanted, but he didn’t want to pull them out of school for that long. You were happy to have the entire suite to yourself. It meant you didn’t have to listen to neighbors through all hours of the night, and you didn’t have to worry about keeping anyone up when working late at night. 

“The flight leaves at six tomorrow morning.” Toji told you as you stepped off onto your floor. “There’s going to be a car to pick us up an hour before.”

“Did you already send your bags with the service?” You stopped just outside your door, directly across the hall from Toji’s. 

He nodded. “I saw yours were ready, I had them sent as well.”

“Thank you.” You looked behind your shoulder to your door then back at him, his hands in his pockets, watching you like he was expecting you to say something else. He looked downright sinful in his all-black designer suit, his normally straight hair styled back with hair gel but still looking soft to the touch. The watch that cost more than most people’s houses glinted in the warm light of the hallway as he played with his cufflinks, also worth a small fortune. You would know. You bought them. 

He quirked his eyebrow at your examination, almost like a challenge. Damn him. 

“Do you want to come in for a nightcap?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I thought you would never ask.” 

You smiled back and turned to the door, inserting your keycard to hear the small click of the lock disengaging, slipping inside with him closely following. “We haven’t broken in this one, yet.”

He was on you before you had the chance to slip out of your shoes. Maybe it was the alcohol that gave him a sense of urgency, the sweet bourbon still on his lips as they slid over yours with a practiced ease, or that you had an early flight in the morning and needed as much sleep as possible to prevent jet lag. If it were the latter, this was definitely not the activity to be participating in.

These liaisons only happened on trips, or late nights at the office or your apartment, where there would be no prying eyes. You both didn’t need questions. It was fulfilling a primal desire, one that burned within you even as both your hearts were locked by grief. There was an understanding. You cared for him, and he for you, but not in a romantic way. You were making sure the needs of a friend were met.

The “breaking in” was also a tradition as well, ever since your first major deal had been completed. When the building was finally complete for a major project, you and Toji would sneak off somewhere to do the deed, christening the building like a bottle of champagne before a ship’s maiden voyage. It had started as a joke, a way to release the pent-up stress that resulted from design and construction but eventually became a tradition. As the business grew over the years, you and Toji had christened well over a hundred completed projects with none the wiser. 

You pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders before moving your hands between your fused bodies to start undoing the buttons of his shirt, working quickly in the tight space as Toji didn’t allow you any room to pull away. You struggled to focus while his kisses moved down to your chin and then your neck, licking and sucking the skin with reckless abandon. You let out a breathy moan as he bit your pulse point with a low growl feeling your heartbeat thrum beneath his teeth. Toji pushed your hands away when his shirt was finally on the floor behind him. He grabbed your face between his hands bringing your attention back to him to kiss you. Ever the multitasker, his tongue explored your mouth while he began his task of getting you naked. 

“Don’t rip the dress.” You warned under his kiss while his large hands grappled for the zipper. “I borrowed it, it has to be in perfect condition.”

“I’ll buy Mei Mei a new one.” Gripping the top of the dress with a hand on each size of the zipper, he yanked hard, the fabric splitting like he had just ripped a sheet of paper as it fell off your body. His eyes went wide as the dress pooled at your feet, revealing the matching black lace set you had underneath. The cups barely contained your breasts and did little to cover your most delicate areas, nipples peeking through the sheer fabric.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed.

You grinned and kneeled in front of him, starting to undo the buckle of his pants. “Paris paid off, then?” 

A sigh fell past his lips as you finally pulled his pants and boxers down, wasting no time to wrap your hand around his thick cock, pumping languidly. His breath hitched as you licked his angry red tip slowly, pulling back to prevent him from pushing past your lips when his hips moved forward. His hand went to the crown of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Shit. You’ve been saving that since Paris?”

“I’ve worn this plenty before. You’ve just never seen it.” Your smirk was devilish. His grip on your hair tightened as you took him to the base, neatly trimmed hair tickling your nose while you forced your throat to relax. You tried to gather as much spit as you could to make the glide easier as you bobbed your head. Toji was a large man with an equally large and impressive dick, almost too much for you to take in. Through years of practice, both on him and several inferior specimens, you had learned just how to hollow your cheeks, how to move, and how to swallow to have a man cumming in minutes flat. 

“Fuck, you okay?” He panted when he thrust involuntarily, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag slightly. Once you composed yourself, you hummed around his cock and nodded. Grabbing his other free hand, you placed it on the back of your head with his other one before taking him back down your throat. A silent invitation. 

He wasted no time responding, beginning to thrust into your mouth with no reserve. You grabbed his hips to steady yourself as you relaxed and remembered to breathe through your nose. Tears ran down your cheeks while he choked you with his massive cock, mixing with your mascara and staining your skin black. The salty tang of precum hit your tongue, mixing with the saliva that fell from your lips the faster he moved. You smiled around his cock when you cupped his balls, squeezing just enough for him to let out a loud groan. 

“Stop.” He growled, pulling you off him and tilting your chin up. He took in your tear-streaked face, your chin and neck covered with a mix of saliva and pre-cum. When he dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, you caught it between your teeth, sucking him in and lavving the digit with your tongue. He chuckled darkly, hooking his thumb in your mouth and using it as a guide for you to stand up in front of him. 

“Messy doll.” He crooned. You had to admit, you were shocked as he leaned forward and licked up your neck, tasting both of you on your skin. While you were distracted with his sinful lips, you heard another distinct ripping sound before you felt the cool air of the room against your bare ass. You broke away and looked down to see your panties in tatters on the ground. 

“Can you at least leave one piece of my clothing intact tonight?” You frowned at him, your voice slightly hoarse from his antics. “Those were expensive. I know we’re made of money now, but I’d prefer not to spend it all.”

He ignored you and reached around to plant a firm smack on your cheeks. “In the bedroom. On the bed.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but you decided to have a bit of fun as you walked through the massive suite. You could feel his eyes on you, almost predatory when you entered the bedroom and caught sight of the king-sized bed, made with fresh linens and piled high with pillows, accented in the light greys and blacks that matched the rest of the suite. You flopped down on the bed with a giggle, back down, and propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. 

He frowned at your position as he walked forward. “I said on the bed.” He rumbled. 

“I am on the bed.” You played dumb and cocked your head to the side. “What did you mean?”

He shook his head and stopped at the edge, towering over you. “You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?” 

“It’s a nice break from those girls that call you daddy, isn’t it?” You purred. 

The growl that ripped through his chest made your heart jump and another wave of arousal coat your lips as he surged forward, gripping your hips to flip you onto your stomach and pull them up so you were on your knees, your throbbing center level with his cock. He ground against you, slipping his length along your drenched labia to coat it, the glide easy as your spit mixed with your slick. He was more than ready to pound into you. 

When you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, he put a hand on your neck and pushed you down so your face was pressed into the mattress. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath on your back and trailing up as he bent over you to whisper in your ear. 

“You know, I was going to be nice, maybe take it slow at first so you wouldn’t be absolutely wrecked sitting for fourteen hours on our flight tomorrow.” He hummed. “But now, I think I’m going to like seeing you squirm.”

It wasn’t even a second later before he slammed into your pussy, the stretch almost painful as you wailed at the intrusion and he began a brutal pace that rivaled his speed while he was fucking your face just moments before. You were already sopping wet from sucking his dick earlier, turned on beyond belief as you thought about what lay in store for you after he was done with your mouth being his personal fleshlight. 

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He hissed, spanking your ass to feel you clench around his dick. “No one can stretch this cunt as good as I can, can they? You need a fat cock to satisfy you, those skinny dicks can’t even get you wet.” 

You moaned an affirmative, playing along with his narrative as he pistoned his hips into you. You could feel every vein on him as they dragged along your walls, his tip hitting that soft spot inside you with every thrust. There were plenty of other dicks that had gotten you wet, but it was true his was the most impressive, and the one that had more knowledge of just how to make you scream, monster dick or not. He had that advantage over every other man you slept with. 

The slap of his hips against yours echoed through the cavernous room as Toji grabbed your upper arms, pulling them behind your back and forcing your back in arch, his thrust becoming more shallow but no less punishing. You bit your lip to control the noises you were making, but whines still escaped. 

When the new position didn’t produce his desired response from you, he released your arms without any ceremony causing your upper body to fall limp back to the bed. You gasped as Toji pressed his hips flush to yours, curling his body on top of yours with one powerful arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from pulling away while his tip continually massaged your g-spot with every roll of his hips into you. 

“Tell me how it feels.” He murmured in your ear, his voice steady without any sign of effort. His stamina was something to marvel. 

“You know how it feels.” You moaned back, unable to control yourself. You were so close, just ready to reach that peak if he would only speed up. You reached back with one hand and gripped his hip hoping that would encourage him to resume his previous pace. 

He took your hand from his hip and put it back near your head, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. The sharp sting of pleasure was what you needed for your back to arch, squeezing around him while you fucked yourself back onto his cock to prolong your climax as much as you could. 

Toji pulled out as you finally slowed down, his heavy cock bouncing against his leg as he sat up against the headboard and patted his thigh, signaling for you to climb on. You wasted no time in doing so, raising yourself on shaky legs to straddle his lap. His hands moved to cup your ass as you settled over him, taking his length in hand and sinking down onto it with a sharp exhale through your nose. You could almost feel him in your throat in this position, the stretch still borderline uncomfortable even after he had already stretched you out, coupled with the sensitivity of just having orgasmed. 

His gentle grip turned hard just as you were about to start bouncing to stop your movements. You gave him a confused look but understood when his hands started to guide you in grinding on his lap. The added friction on your clit against his pelvis made you sigh in pleasure, just a tinge of overstimulation creeping through the tightness already building in your stomach again. In this position with the lack of harsh movements he was able to play with your breasts, which he always gave proper worship. 

His large hands made your breasts look small as he covered the left, slipping your nipple between his fingers and rolling it while he cupped the other, pushing it up and licking at the flesh. You sighed at the rough texture of the scar marring his lips against your sensitive skin and wrapped your arms around his head, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him close. He loved to tease, licking and sucking all around your breasts until you were about to beg, arching your back further into his touch. You hated begging him, hated admitting how well he could affect you. But you had known each other for so long, you knew each other better than anyone else. 

You whined as his lips finally closed around the pert bud, laying the flat of his tongue over the sensitive skin. You felt his lips stretch into a smile against your skin at your vocalizations before he moved to your other breast, immediately latching onto the nipple to produce a breathy moan. You knew he was enjoying himself from the way his hips matched each roll of your own, driving deeper as he got lost in the feeling. 

“I got your milkies.” You whispered, part of your sinister trick to bring him back to earth. You were starved for actual friction, grinding not providing the drag on your insides you craved. 

He pulled back with a soft pop and frowned, though his pupils were still blown out. “You did not just say that.”

You shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

“Way to kill the mood.” He mumbled, pushing your breasts together to bury his face between them, licking through your cleavage and up your chest.

“Then why are you still hard?” You squeezed down on him deliberately. His eyes grew dark as he looked up at you through thick lashes and you knew you were in for it. 

With one quick movement you were under him, back pressed into the pillows while he kneeled between your legs still holding your waist so he could stay buried inside you, your hips tilted so you were at an angle. You struggled to sit up trying to resume your previous position, but his strong hold on you didn’t allow you any room before he continued burying himself in your velvet walls. You could barely breathe from the force of his thrusts, twice as hard as before but just as fast. 

You could have killed him from how composed he looked as he watched you slowly lose control. He watched you with an almost curious expression, studying how your brow drew together and short gasps fell past your lips while he was barely breaking a sweat. You refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing your moans. If he wanted them, he’d have to earn them. 

“I know you like taking it from the back, but I think I like this better.” He mused, voice even like he wasn’t balls deep in your cunt. “I can see the look on your face when you lose control.”

“Fuck you, Toji.” You gasped, your words stuttering with each of his thrusts. 

“No, that’s your job.” He grinned devilishly and bent down over you, resting on his elbows. “Scream for me, little slut. Let the floors around us know how good I fuck.” 

You opened your mouth to retort but a loud scream came out instead as Toji sneaked his hand between you to roll your clit between two fingers. You barely felt his breath on your skin as you shattered beneath him, screaming just like he wanted as your orgasm crashed over you, ten times as intense as the one he had just given you. You gripped the pillow under your head and turned your face into it so he couldn’t see just how much you were enjoying this. 

In an instant, you felt the pillow ripped from beneath your head and his hand come into contact with your cheek. The sting of his slap was dulled by the pleasure still running over your body as he gripped your chin tightly in one of his large hands, forcing you to look in his eyes, your noses almost touching. Your eyebrows knit together and mouth open on a silent moan made him finally push as far in as he could on a final thrust, painting your inner walls white with his cum as he groaned loudly. The roll of his hips didn’t stop until he deposited every last drop within you, until you could feel his cum leaking out the sides of his dick. How could he cum so fucking much?

His hands turned gentle as he pulled out, smoothing your hair off your sweaty forehead and tracing his fingers over the hickeys he’d left on your neck. He bent down to ghost his lips on your hairline before hauling himself off the bed and walking toward the bathroom. You could faintly hear him rummaging around through your post-coital fog, coming back with a warm damp towel and starting the task of cleaning you up. 

While he did, he grabbed the phone from the room and dialed room service, ordering two meals, along with ice cream at your insistence, billing it to his room. Not that it mattered, you were staying here on your host’s dime. When he was done cleaning you, he laid on his side next to you, smiling down fondly as you still tried to catch your breath. 

“You did good.” He whispered, caressing your face. You managed a weak smile and laughed. 

“Don’t get soft on me now, Fushiguro.” You sighed. “I might just lose respect for you.”

He smiled down at you, basking in the afterglow of your liaison. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

Tags: @oikawaandkuroostan, @gummy-dummy

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

Hey! I wasnt the one who requested it, but I loved your how would the Blue Lions react to killing their SO! May I ask the same but for the Golden Deer if its alright?

{That was actually one of my favorite requests to write! It’s been a long time so I might be a bit rusty, but let’s give this a shot :)} 

Claude: 

 He had accounted for the possibility of you betraying him. Your disappearance had not been something he took with ease, yet the lack of contact or declaration of death for so long had him thinking 

Emotions are fleeting...the human mind was complex. Your loyalty was never something he wanted to question but he could never put his complete faith in you 

Even when you stood at his side protecting the crests, befriended his people, treated him as a true partner...he just couldn’t completely put his faith in you. Not with so much on the line 

 He wonders if that’s where he went wrong. Heavy rain clouded his sight but the sound of your voice rang dominant across the field. As you stand at Gronder with your weapon focused on his friends- your friends; Claude could not help but momentarily reminisce over the times you instead showed him your smile. The one that temporarily alleviated the weight of his dreams and expectations from his shoulders 

He would be the one to get it back. The professor had already converted other students to their side so there was a chance 

One you didn’t want, as you aimed at their head with tears pricking your eyes. He dismounted his wyvern instantly 

“Was it all a lie? Tell me...is this what you want for your home (Y/N)? Come fight with us” He slowly begins his approach, but the words die out as you attack him this time 

 A shrill battle cry is all he hears before he watches an axe lodge into your side. He’ll never hear the answer, but he didn’t need to. It finally clicked

White hair 

You planned to die 

His brows pressed in further as Lysithea gasped at your fallen form. Before he would have killed to know more about the hidden experiments going on in the empire, but not like this. They’ll come to collect the body before Hanneman can conduct any research, but he’ll give them more. Much more 

Raphael: 

Raphael doesn’t like to think on the battlefield. It’s not that he enjoys pummeling people without a glance, but if he looks back then he won’t look foreword. He’s confided in Ignatz many times after being scolded for running ahead, but when thinking can cost you your life he prefers not to waste the effort 

 Especially because he takes longer to process complex emotions and thoughts compared to the others. He trusts them to be tactical while he uses his muscles to save the day

Back in the day he had a perfectly reliable head to think for him. He cleared their path and they took care of all the important business. The classic ‘brains and brawn’ duo that no one would expect to ever find genuine interest in one another. Aren’t they stereotypically supposed to fight and be at each other’s throats? Not in this case 

“Haha! THAT WAS GREAT! Nice Job (Y/N), I hope today’s menu has meat because you need brain food and I need to feed my muscles!” 

 You knew Raphael and how to predict his movements, and he had complete faith in your judgements. Even at the monastery you both made the most efficient team to do chores  

 Instead of trying to change him, you worked to match his pace and became his partner. On the field and in life. Raphael knew he didn’t have to second guess with you at his side, and he felt what he wanted to feel.

He loved you. Your brains, your laugh, your heart, your cooking no matter good or bad...you. It was an emotion that came easy to him.

Though sometimes he berated himself for not thinking. Sometimes you’d get in trouble if he broke equipment or did something else out of line. Yet you remained patient and calmed him down at the same time.

It was difficult to adjust to fighting without his partner. He essentially had to relearn everything through experience, but he had full hope that you’d come back 

That hope clouded his judgement when he saw you conversing with the professor at Aillel. He was so overcome with joy that he mindlessly pushed aside enemies to get to you without actually examining the scene

His fury took over when the professor’s sword went straight through your stomach.  He tackled them to the ground and it took both Lorenz AND Hilda to pry him away. 

“You idiot! They’re the enemy!” Hilda shouted at him as he settled down. He couldn’t process it. They wouldn’t hurt their family, him.

 Yet, they wore red. Red that grew darker as their blood seeped in 

 Ignatz: 

“Can you paint my portrait?” You asked him one evening long ago. After a particularly grueling training session with the rest of class he had snuck off to sketch the trees by the market. The year was young and he still wasn’t too familiar with all his classmates 

You were new and he had took to your appearance instantly. He could replay your introduction mentally over and over. Your smooth words, slight bow, and the way your feet glided effortlessly to the closest seat you could get to the window. He was of course too shy to approach a new student since he wasn’t the social sort, but luckily he did not have to do much. 

You took the liberty of following him to his painting spot. He was flustered at being found, but you merely plopped at his side and began to eat your lunch. Where you had it stashed beforehand? He still doesn’t know 

 He had never been more aware of another’s presence, and his art showed it as the paper crinkled in his grasp. Yet somehow you seemed enamored at the picture forming on the page, so much that you asked to model 

He grew anxious instantly and decided to head back for his own meal. With no given answer you had left the topic behind, and from then on he began to find you nearby often. From acquaintances to friends, and from friends to ‘lovers without definition’. No confession was ever spoken but he knew you made decisions easier, life joyful, and the rest of his peers agreed as much as he. 

He drew that portrait. He drew it over, and over, and over, and over because he refused to forget your face. He would remember you and fight twice as hard to make up for what you couldn’t give. He swore that to Claude and everyone else when you were pronounced missing in action.

 and now? His eyes glisten as a body fitted under a white tarp lays yards away. You hadn’t tried to harm him but you were healing the enemy. It was decided that you were not with the Empire, but instead travelling through and became swept in the battle. Perhaps you didn’t know? Perhaps you simply decided to help whoever needed it no matter their side? 

He clutches his bow to his chest. One arrow, and you were down. He didn’t know 

He didn’t know but the pictures would never let him forget. The pages never felt the same from then on 

Lorenz: 

Relationships should never be formed unless you have something to gain

It is a nobleman’s duty to protect the weak, the poor, the sick; yet, there must always be distance.

A nobleman must always carry themselves with a sense of professionalism. They must not display weakness, and a true leader is born of being able to separate their personal affairs from that of those they govern. 

 One day Lorenz will be the head of the Glouscer territory, and soon the Alliance as a whole if he has his way. Death must not phase him and he must be willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of his people

He follows the laws of a noble. He knows them on paper, but not in practice. 

 Only as he grew during an age of dispute and fighting did he begin to learn that actions differ from voice. All that he pledged as a young man held no meaning, because gradually he began to realize that he is not the most fit to govern Fodlan. He was incapable of completely tossing aside his personal desires or making the best decisions with certainty. Yes, he was well educated and would make a great right hand

Yet the title of leader would never be his. Why? Because he is a noble by definition 

The professor was a noble by heart. A true leader who let actions speak for them and selflessly protected the entirety of Fodlan instead of one singular portion.

 Lorenz is a noble in name, but in nature he is a man. He is a solider, a son, a friend, a politician...a human. One not immune to temptations or the grievances of loss no matter what face he may display for the public eye.

 There was a soul he once found vibrant. They were a mere commoner yet full of dedication. He placed a barrier around them immediately, one he was not allowed to cross no matter how tempted. They did not fit the criteria he sought

 Yet the night of the ball he allowed “them”  the curtesy of a dance. Their warm hand on his own, their body held tightly in his embrace, and lighthearted small talk being tossed between quips about their poor dancing skills 

They left his mouth dry as he bid them farewell to their next partner. He allowed the barrier to resurface as he went his own way

“You must rethink this (Y/N). How could siding with the empire lead to any promising future/ They will kill us all and then themselves in the process! Please, join us” 

“Spoken like a true noble, Lorenz. This social hierarchy has divided people for too long and you would realize that if you’d only look beyond Alliance borders!” 

If only he had grasped their hand longer- listened. They were the first to show him a world beyond his bubble, if only he popped it sooner. 

 Hilda:

You really annoyed her in the beginning. The way you carried yourself like some kind of prophet, or how you’d question everything the professor taught. Was it so hard to just do what was needed and move on? Even with something as simple as weeding the courtyard you always had to add your own two cents

It was like always being under analysis. She got that enough from Claude and didn’t need two people trying to read her. On many occasions she tried to gain traction over you, but somehow her efforts never bore fruit 

For a try-hard you were very accepting of her shortcomings. So long as what you were tasked with got done, the performance of others was never a secondary priority 

If only she could be that carefree about other people’s opinions. Maybe then living would be easier? 

Perhaps you were what she wanted to be? Satisfied with who you were enough to question the world around you while remaining secure with what you had 

Someone with the ability to step beyond your comfort zone and make your own decisions. Respected, knowledgeable...loved for who you are. Maybe that’s what drew her to you and lead to her envy forming into adoration 

and that adoration being trampled by sorrow 

“I still love you so no hard feelings, okay? I can’t back down” is what she told you. It was a taunt, but she did not expect your smile 

“Of course. I’m glad you’ve decided to show your backbone, just think of this as a spar like old times”

The casual talk did not fit the clash of blades that followed. Nor did it suit the battle roaring nearby 

A spar- just like old times. It was a familiar battle but this time her axe did not halt before delivering the deciding blow. 

Her hands shook as your body fell, yet you still appeared at peace despite the gash adorning your back. Perhaps you knew this would be the outcome before the day even began

Hilda did not cry, but asked for you to be buried on alliance soil. If anything she owed you that curtesy

Leonie: 

She would never forgive you. Not today, not ever. 

How dare you choose to side with the people who killed the captain? He never did anything to anybody, and if you chose to betray everyone than Leonie would return the favor

She decided that any history between you two was nonexistent the moment you lifted your weapon. Mercy was a word you forgone long ago when instead of defending Garreg Mache, you slaughtered it’s inhabitants 

She thought you felt the same as well. Yet, fate always liked to twist in ways to hinder justice 

She watched from a distance as the professor approached your fallen form. They had insisted on trying to sway her old classmates, but she scoffed at the mere thought 

What made them think traitors would be good allies? Did they want to be stabbed in the back like their father?...like the captain 

She ignored the sting in her chest as you swatted their hand away. You had some nerve to reject their kindness and it pissed her off. She wanted this entire situation to simply end but- 

Her feet moved on their own

“Why are you such an idiot? Were you always this irresponsible?” her words cut deep, clearly shown by how you turned away. She could only grit her teeth at the stubbornness and reach for her lance 

You made your choice, and clearly it was up to her to deliver justice if no one else would 

So she did what she’s always had to do, the brunt work. With one swing it was over and you were just another count among the others 

She doesn’t know if the captain would praise her for remaining strong or scold her for remaining indifferent 

Lysithea: 

Everything always boils down to one thing: people cannot be trusted. Each and every time Lysithea has allowed someone close it has blown up in her face 

and somewhere deep down, she knew this situation wouldn’t have ended any differently. The world always found new ways to crush what she cared for 

The only question that remains is how much longer will she have to endure? How much longer did she have to fight? 

because now she had to fight for two. She had to find a cure or die trying 

During the battle for Garreg Mache many had been taken prisoner. She hadn’t the empire to conduct unethical experiments; maybe torture, but nothing like what she was witnessing. 

It was a fever dream one couldn’t fathom, but the mindless husk killing without remorse kept her in reality. What had they done to you?

She noticed the white hair in an instant. One of her worst fears had come to life seeing you at the death knight’s side, but the way you hadn’t even flinched when she called your name made her terrified 

Not even a whack of thoron could snap you out of it. She began to lose hope...were you even there anymore? Is this what they had planned for her if she didn’t flee?

“Say something you jerk! Don’t tell me you’re letting some petty magic keep you grounded, fight it!” 

No matter what anyone said it did nothing. When moral dwindled the only solution left was to free you through other means 

The death knight escaped after you fell. Next time...next time he would die at her hand. 

Lysithea instantaneously moved to further her research after your burial. Not for herself, but to find out if you were gone long before they found you. She needed to know if your death was peaceful, if you could see that she tried 

If you would forgive her 

Marianne: 

“This is Nova. I have to leave for a mission, would you watch him for me Marianne?”

 Bright blue eyes bored into hers as she gingerly took hold of the bunny. It’s fur was soft, well groomed. She took notice of how it snuggled into her arms as if it feared no human. Marianne knew instantly that the animal was well loved and cherished. The though made her almost refuse the favor in fear of hurting it, but her classmate’s insistence wasn’t something to fight. 

  Despite her warnings (Y/N) never listened, and at some point Marianne gave up on pushing them away. Their company was appreciated yet she would never say it, and the cuddly creature in her arms truly proved their trust in her 

 She could only nod in agreement as they skipped off to prepare the bunny’s necessities to bring to her room. Marianne hoped she could care for the animal properly, and that nothing would happen to it

She worried for the wrong reasons, as (Y/N) never returned home. They were sent to face Solon and avenge the death of the Professor’s father. Marianne was asked to remain and help in healing injured soldiers from the most previous confrontation. 

·If she knew that would have been the last time (Y/N) would show up in her room, she--no, she wouldn’t have done anything. She may have tried to convince them to stay home but Marianne knows she would have not confessed anything

  Not that she valued their friendship or that she worried for their wellbeing. Not that she was grateful they trusted her with Nova, or that they help her care for her horses. She wouldn’t have even thought it. 

 She didn’t think of it afterwards either. Her fondness for her deceased friend wouldn’t have been noticeable at all if not for the bunny. Despite everything she cared for it as if it were (Y/N) themselves. 

When she sees a familiar figure take charge at Gronder, time freezes. She remembers the bunny sitting in her dorm without an owner. She wonders how abandoned it must have felt to never see it’s best friend again. She feels for the bunny because it’s how she felt.

Without thinking she shoots a blast of magic their way and watches them crumple on the floor 

Why did they abandon their precious bunny? Did they give up on it? Did they give up on her? 

Did you...finally realize you had befriended a monster?

[inky-duchess]

Court Archetypes: The Dynasty

Royal families are just one big chain of flaws and strengths. All dynasties have their issues. When writing your royal and noble families in your fantasy works, it is best to study some archetypical royal families.

The Wealthy

Some dynasties keep their power by money, splashing the cash in ways their counterparts cannot.

The Medici: The Medici began as simple bankers. Through the years they rose through the ranks, from merchant class to obtaining power in the Florence government and then becoming one of the most powerful families in Italy, perhaps Europe. The Medici remained at the forefront of all arts and finance, as well as intrigue. They were the richest banking family, backing other dynasties and kingdoms in their ventures.

House of Romanov: The Romanovs were a relatively unknown noble family until the reign of Ivan the Terrible. When Ivan died without an heir, the nobles of Russia chose young Michael Romanov to be the new king. The Romanovs were autocrats, building a vast empire on the backs of serfs and their expansive powers. Some Romanovs were brilliant (Catherine the Great, Peter the Great, Alexander II, Elizabeth I, Alexander I) and some less so (Nicholas I, Nicholas II, Peter III, Paul I). But all were fucking loaded. The Romanovs were the richest royal family for many generations. Their palaces were the grandest and their jewels were to die for. The Romanovs came to a violent end in the Russian Revolution, for a list of reasons but chief among them being the extravagant and lavish lifestyle they had lived while Russia suffered.

The Treacherous

You can choose friends but not your family. Some families backstab each other so much its a wonder their arms don't present as a bloody dagger.

Ptolemy: The House of Ptolemy was founded by the Macedonian general Ptolemy, friend and some say half brother to Alexander the Great. When Alexander died, his generals divided up the empire. Ptolemy was granted Egypt. The Ptolemys wed one another for centuries, uncle to niece, sister to brother, daughter to father. The Ptolemys were a treacherous bunch. They betrayed one another for the crown, murdered family members. Just look at the last four monarchs of the dynasty. Blood, incest, betrayal, fratricide, suicide, battles, beheadings. It's Game of Thrones on acid.

House Of York: The House Of York ruled over England for 25 years. Edward IV had two brothers, George and Richard. They had a cousin called Warwick, the Kingmaker. Edward married a woman not of Warwick's liking. Warwick deposed Edward, marrying his daughter to George. When the nobles refused to make George king, Edward regained the throne. In a second effort, Warwick and George crossed over to the enemy House of Lancaster. Warwick wed his daughter to the Prince Edward of Westminster. George betrayed Warwick and went back to his brothers, leaving Warwick to die on the battlefield. George was constantly betraying Edward, even hiring a wiseman to predict Edward's death. George was drowned in a vat of wine. Edward died a few years later and Richard became protector of the kingdom, Regent for the young princes. He seized the throne for himself, disobeying his brother's last wishes.

Julio-Claudian Dynasty: To say the Julio-Claudians were treacherous would be an understatement. The Roman Emperors were volatile. Even the wise Augustus is no exception, having exiled his owned daughter because she was promiscuous. His adopted son Tiberius may have poisoned him as well as the much loved . Tiberius then imprisoned Germanicus's wife and let her starve to death. He then murdered all but one of the sons of Germanicus. Tiberius then adopted the boy, Caligula. Caligula then may have had Tiberius smothered. Caligula then had the other nephew of Tiberius killed. Caligula was killed by his guards and his uncle Claudius became Emperor. Claudius then named his stepson Nero as heir after his son Britannicus was poisoned possibly by Nero or his mother, Agrippina. Claudius was then poisoned and Nero ascended the throne. Nero chafed at his Mother's influence had tried to kill her by sinking her ship. When she crawled ashore, a guard was sent to kill her. Nero was driven to suicide.

The Unhappy Family

Some royal dynasties are nothing more than unhappy families. Whether it be strained relationships between parents and children or between siblings, some families do not get along.

Plantagenet: The Plantagenets were never a happy family. Begin at the start. Henry II married Eleanor of Aquitaine and they had five sons. Henry II fought with his sons over ceding over any control over the empire. The sons went to Henry's enemy for help in their rebellion. Eleanor rode to join them but was captured. She was held prisoner until Henry died. Later down the line we have Richard II who was a bit of a tyrant. He hated his nobles and made their life hell. He had one uncle killed and conspired against his cousins. While he was in Ireland, his cousin Henry Bolingbrook stole his throne (haha serves the dickhead right. Karma is a bitch dickie). Henry imprisoned Richard in a cell where he starved to death.

House Of Windsor: Was there ever a dynasty with such destructive tendancies as Windsor? First we have George V who argued with his son David. David loved an American divorcee named Wallis Simpson and was not exactly the model royal. When he ascended the throne as Edward VIII, he gave it up to marry his love leaving his brother Albert or George VI to be king. George died after the strains of WWII and the remainder of the royal family blamed David for his death. Elizabeth II ascended the throne. Princess Margaret loved a palace aide and asked to marry him. The Church refused to allow the wedding to go ahead and allow Princess Margaret to keep her royal status. In the end, Margaret chose her royal status. She later went on to have an unhappy marriage with Anthony Armstrong-Jones. Elizabeth II's eldest son Charles loved an unsuitable woman, Camilla and was pressured into marrying a more appropriate bride, Diana. The marriage was terrible and they divorced. The cycle of unhappy marriages and family relations still play out before us even today.

House Of Hanover: The House Of Hanover never got on. George I imprisoned his wife for infidelity and fought with his son because he was more popular and stole his children. George II fought with his son and daughter in lawn. George III went mad and had to suffer his sons. George IV shagged and ate his way through the kingdom as Regent, before becoming king at sixty. His daughter died, the last legitimate heir. His brothers married to sire an heir, only producing one, Victoria. Victoria fought with her son, blaming him for her husband's death. The Hanoverians had issues.

The Incestuous & Problematic

These are the houses that have serious issues. As opposed to the last heading, these families love each other a little too much.

House Of Hapsburg: The Hapsburgs didn't begin as incestuous. As their empire began to stretch across Europe covering most of the German and Austrian states as well as Spain, they began to wed the two branches of the House together, the Austrian and the Spanish. These uncle-niece and first cousin-first cousin marriages resulted in deformity. Children born of these incestuous matches were stricken with the infamous jaw deformity, the Hapsburg jaw which made the lower half of the mouth stick out.

House Of Borgia: The Borgias may or may not have had an incestuous relationship between two of its scions, Lucrezia and Cesere. It was rumoured that the brother and sister pair were sleeping together and even more ludicrously rumoured that Lucrezia was banging her own father Pope Alexander VI. It was likely just slander. The Borgias were infamous for their affairs with poisons. Lucrezia alone was rumoured to carry the famous poison Canterella in a ring on her finger, being able to poison any unsuspecting victim. Cesere is rumoured to have killed his younger brother Juan or at least had him killed. The Borgias were a powerhungry and driven bunch, so all these rumours stuck like glue.

[in-tua-deep]

For the Harry Potter AU, Is there going to be Five time travelling, be it accidentally?

Five does not decide to time travel on a whim to use his powers in the hogwarts au - this does not mean he doesn’t time travel

(Five is very very concerned with them all sticking together in this timeline/au !! he doesn’t want to run away at all, because their lives are finally good - he has no reason to want to time travel when there’s all this other magic shit he could be learning)

during one of their summers, they end up at the Weasley’s house. It makes sense. Ginny was their youngest child and she’s graduated and moved out. The Weasley’s had a whole seven children, which means they have space slash beds for seven whole children. So they stay with the Weasleys, which is a somewhat awkward fit but I digress

but look the Weasleys still have kids, and those kids do visit

(Which is how Klaus meets Fred Weasley, which is another story)

But Ron comes home to visit and Hermione comes with him and they end up telling stories about their Hogwarts days to the umbrella kids, which is interesting and fun !! they downplay the deadliness of their shenanigans probably but they tell them stories

and Ron mentions Hermione’s insanity their third year when Hermione decided she had to take every single class available to her like an absolute madman. How did she manage that? Oh, she got a time turner with the ministry’s permission or something

and Five, who is always doing Way Too Many Things At Once is immediately enthralled with the idea that you can jump back hours at a time. And they used this just to get to a class at the same time as another class? The possibilities are limitless. 

As soon as Ron and Hermione leave Five is already penning furious letters to his head of house hollering about getting a time turner and that he also wants to do All The Classes

(all his Hufflepuff friends admire his work ethic, yes, very hufflepuff, but come on five put the book down and play exploding snap with us for once in your goddamn life)

And Sprout mails back like “You’re literally 12 you don’t even get electives for your second year?? ask me again next year????” because this is a ravenclaw problem usually - and a Hermione problem - that the Hufflepuff head of house usually doesn’t have to deal with tbh

and Five pouts about it but yeah okay that’s fair, even if having the five hour time turner would be super super useful for things like... sleep or homework slash doing other peoples homework (for a fee of course)

so Five goes through his second year very patiently and then at the end kicks in Sprout’s door and is like “PROFESSOR SPROUT, TIME TURNER ME” giving her an absolute heart attack

(Five is pretty good at zooming through his homework actually, he’s one of the top students in their year actually??? he’s one of those annoying kids who doesn’t even have to put in much effort to get top grades? 

this is because Five is voracious in his pursuit of magical knowledge and is actually like, way beyond his year’s appropriate material tbh - like he’s not quite brewing polyjuice potions in the bathrooms but the librarian knows him by name and he’s started eyeing the restricting section with a little too much interest recently

the age old wisdom learned in Reginald’s household: you only get in trouble if you get caught)

Five is willing to even do the really stupid sounding classing like divination (gag, he’s going to be doing the class with Klaus, Allison, and Diego though so it’s not a total wash he guesses) because if he does the work he gets a fucking time turner are you kidding

(Klaus is way too enthusiastic about divination, when asked why she’s taking Allison arches an eyebrow and says she can absolutely predict the future - for example she heard a rumor you left her alone - wow look at that it came true! Diego is taking it because Klaus begged him but also because he heard it was a really easy class and he would like to focus on quidditch thanks)

they end up staying at the Longbottom Estate the summer between their second and third year (the Weasleys weren’t a great fit and they plan to go to Romania that summer to visit Charlie) since the bigass mansion from an old family has enough room

They’re familiar with Neville, who is apprenticed under Professor Sprout and is probably going to take over herbology classes in the near future. Ben and Neville get along like a house on fire, spending way too much time in the green house

Five, on the other hand, strikes up an intense rivalry with Augusta Longbottom, who is ancient and fierce and strikes terror into the heart of any child she wishes. Five kind of wants to be her but also is at war with her because there are so many good books that Augusta won’t let him read

(anyway, Five learns the hard way that Augusta Longbottom keeps an armed mouse trap in her purse and admires such a simple non-magical solution to keeping intruders away)

Klaus doesn’t like the estate (it’s very old and there are... quite a few ghosts), Diego is constantly badgering the others to practice quidditch with him, Luther carries everything for Augusta and is deemed a ‘nice young man, very Gryffindor’ with approval, Allison models herself the perfect young lady and takes great pleasure in sticking her tongue at the others when they get in trouble (behind the adult’s backs of course), while Vanya takes the opportunity to practice her violin with intensity considering they can’t practice magic anyway (curse underage magic laws)

of course there is a small incident where Ben and Five set up an illicit potions lab in the definitely not a dungeon basement and may or may not experiment which lead to something almost blowing up

“In our defense,” Five says, scrubbing a sleeve over a very sooty face thanks to a small explosion, “we were really bored.”

“Potions.” Neville despairs, like potions personally killed his parents and kicked his dog. And who knows, maybe they did somehow. This is the magical world, nothing ever makes sense honestly. 

“Sorry for nicking some of your boom berries.” Ben offers, managing to actually look sincerely sorry. Five should take pointers, honestly.

“The boom berries aren’t even ripe.” Neville whimpers, face in his hands.

Five exchanges a look of realization with Ben, “Ah, that’s why they - ”

“Went boom.” Ben says with a slightly hysterical giggle on the end.

“No more potions without supervision.” Is the order they get stuck with, which is really unfair considering that there are seven kids and only two adults honestly. 

(“I can’t believe you almost blew up the house.” Luther hisses at them later, to which Ben looks appropriately abashed.

“You’re just jealous we didn’t include you in any plots with explosions.” Five points out crossly. Luther doesn’t say anything to that, which means he’s right.)

Vanya only blows up like, three whole rooms and the bright side is that everyone chalks it up to accidental magic even though Vanya should really have grown out of it by now but... it’s not like they have another explanation!

The kids get very good at distracting the adults and the others trying to train Vanya so that she doesn’t blow things up by accident, which goes better than canon because she wasn’t pent up for literal decades at least but does mean that more accidents happen than the Longbottom house is necessarily used to

“I’d forgotten what it was like to have children underfoot again.” Augusta says when they have to go back, leaning on her cane and looked at them all severely. “Do not return.”

and that’s their stay at the Longbottom estate

so Five enters his third year and gleefully is given a time turner

and he’s informed he can only turn it back five hours, which is the safe time !! and he’s like “haha neat” and immediately turns it five times and - 

he shows up like five years in the past due to funkiness of his powers interacting with the time turner, which lovingly dumps him right into the middle of the war when he’s like, thirteen, in 1997

“what the FUCK” - Five, probably

and this is how five realizes he has time powers

Five is missing for five months when he shows back up, more than a little bit traumatized, clutching his time turner

“what the FUCK” - all of Five’s siblings upon his return, because they have been freaking out for five months

“What do you mean I’ve been missing for five months?” Five asks hysterically, “It’s been like, a month? Tops? I hope you idiots know I had to break into the fucking Ministry of Magic to get back to y’all fuckwads”

“What the fuck, Five” say the siblings, with feeling

“I had to steal and juryrig like, half of the ministry’s supply of time turners. it’s fine. they got ruined during the war anyway, I read about it, so it didn’t upset the timeline or anything to snag a few before it happened and stuff.” Five explains

(He returns the time turner to a very shaken Professor Sprout, but he does not return the pilfered ones he stole five years ago)

after everyone stops freaking out (more or less - the Hufflepuffs refuse to let Five out of their sights for more than five collective minutes which is an absolute pain) Five ends up having to drop some classes (he ends up dropping divination since he likes arithmancy way better - predicting the future with numbers? hell yeah !! and he drops care of magical creatures but insists on keeping up with muggle studies since he feels it’s important to keep up with that world just in case they have to disappear back into it) and life vaguely returns to normal

“Wait.” Klaus says, with a voice that says he’s had a very important revelation. “Does this mean that we’re older than Five?”

“No.” Five says, very firmly, as though that will help what is to come.

“Absolutely.” Diego immediately butts in.

“Absolutely not -” It’s no use. Klaus has wrapped his arms around Five (and curse him, Klaus is a fucking bean pole and taller than Five) and is crooning about how they’re going to take such good care of their babiest brother - 

Klaus deserves result of this interaction. The rest of the room? Well. Needless to say the siblings get detention for destroying an unused classroom

(this does not stop the others from referencing Five’s apparent youth at the most inopportune moments, which never fails to his Five’s berserk button)

everyone keeps a close eye on five. besides more food hoarding and some more general feralness he seems fine for the most part tbh

(he does not talk about his month away, but needless to say he was dumped into the beginning of Harry Potter’s seventh year, which was deeply unfortunate due to the fact that Death Eater’s had taken over Hogwarts and other deeply unfortunate events were taking place)

somehow Five manages to catch up to all his classes despite having been missing for Five months Five what the fuck, and maintains his position as one of the top students in their year

the siblings initiate daily meetings which means all of them pile into the Hufflepuff common room once a week on Five’s night hosting which is basically part sibling study group part “we WILL keep track of everyone on god”

yeah there may or may not be some like. trauma regarding their brother literally vanishing on them tbh

third year is also when Five discovers he can jump into the chamber of secrets and meets the painting of Dolores, and then proceeds to be down there whenever he’s getting sick and tired of everyone’s attention on him like he’s just gonna vanish on them for fucks sake Luther stop breathing in his ear he’s trying to read

he likes talking to Dolores, and she’s full of cool and interesting information and facts, and is very good at charms and hexes, not to even mention her encyclopedic knowledge of various jinxes

but yes five does time travel. it’s sort of to do with his time powers. it’s very accidental, basically his powers going absolutely haywire due to exposure to temporal magic and amplifying their effect to a terrifying degree, but thanks to genuine wizarding knowledge about temporal magic and the existence of time turners Five was able to get home in a timely manner

...sort of, honestly being four months off wasn’t too bad considering his canon difficulties with timing lmao

[midnight-queery]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476486

The first time it happened Kara didn’t remember it. She’d had a little too much Aldebaran rum at the alien bar and had flown home, waking up sprawled across her bed and still in her super suit, a foul taste in her mouth and a pounding in her temples. She rolled out of bed with a grimace and went through her morning routine even slower than a human, barely making it to work on time.

Kara walked into Lena’s office at CatCo with a bag of pastries from Noonan’s, two coffees, and a wide grin, and Lena smiled back, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes as she gestured for Kara to take a seat.

“Breakfast is served,” Kara chirped, hangover already gone thanks to her Kryptonian biology and the bright sun climbing high in the sky.

Lena hummed appreciatively and took a delicate bite of the scone Kara had brought her (its appalling lack of sweetness didn’t faze the CEO, apparently) as the blonde bit into her first sticky bun. “Have you seen the news yet, Kara?”

“Huh? Uh, no, not yet. I had kind of a slow start this morning.” Kara finished off her second sticky bun and took a swig of coffee. “Why, something interesting happen?”

“You could say so.” Lena gave Kara a small smile and turned on one of the televisions mounted on the wall, unmuting it so Kara could hear.

“-a distinctly Supergirl-shaped hole. Here to comment is the owner of the small business currently advertising on the billboard.” Kara whipped her head around and stared at the screen with wide eyes. The newscast cut to an older black woman, her hair in thick braids and a wide grin stretching across her face. “Oh no, we definitely don’t wanna get it fixed. My son already called the company we’re renting the space from and got them to promise to leave it alone. Why would we wanna get rid of our Super-stamp of approval? ‘Sides, she managed to fly through a bit of empty space!” The woman waved her hand and gave a throaty laugh as the interview was replaced by some B-roll of the billboard in question. Blocky text across the top of the billboard advertised ‘a homecooked meal- even if your home is another planet!’ and the bottom right corner had different pictures of food, ranging from a bowl of chowder to something neon blue that honestly looked like it might still be alive. The bottom left corner featured a vaguely person-shaped hole.

“Oh Rao,” Kara muttered. She turned back around when Lena started laughing. “Lenaaa!”

“Sorry darling, but you have to admit it is amusing.” Lena gave Kara a bright grin, her green eyes sparkling. “Of all the headlines I was expecting to wake up to this morning, this was never on the list.”

Kara groaned and lowered her head into her hands. “D’you think Alex saw?”

“She already texted me the link to the article,” Lena admitted, biting her lip to try to hide her grin. “I’m not sure how she managed to find the article before me when I own the company, but she said I should just be glad she knows how little sleep I get, else she’d have called me at 4am when it posted.”

Kara looked up and gave Lena a surprised look. “There’s an article too? Who the heck wrote it that early?”

“Me, of course,” a voice chimed in, and Kara turned with wide eyes, her face quickly melting into a pout when she saw a certain young reporter leaning against the door frame, arms crossed smugly and a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Nia,” Kara whined. “How could you? Gosh, I don’t even remember flying through it, how’d you know about it?”

“I dreamed it and woke myself up laughing just in time to get there and see it for myself.” Nia pushed off from the door jamb and sauntered into the room, pulling out her phone. “If you hadn’t been in your civvies I would have been able to post the video of you flying through it.” She held her phone out and showed the video to Kara and Lena, the latter laughing as her companion’s face turned bright red. A small shape with blonde hair and pastel-coloured clothes sped through the air, only coming to a halt when she blasted through something with a bang, a startled look on her face. The billboard never stood a chance.

“But that- but- when I woke up I was in my suit!” Kara exclaimed, looking from Nia to Lena and back, a desperate gleam in her eyes. “So it couldn’t’ve been me! It was probably just some shapeshifter trying to embarrass me!”

“Keep watching,” Lena murmured, gesturing to Nia’s phone with a smirk.

Kara turned back to the phone with a sinking feeling in her stomach. From somewhere off-screen Nia’s voice yelled for Supergirl to put her damn suit on, and a moment later, after squinting dubiously at the camera and wobbling midair, on-screen Kara mumble-yelled something about already having her suit on and looked down, realizing mid ramble that she was wearing a “stupid librarian costume” before ripping her clothes off and flying off in her suit. Kara was just glad she’d had her super suit on under her clothes instead of just her ‘birthday suit’ as the humans called it, else the video would have been even more mortifying.

The video finally (blessedly) ended, and Nia tucked her phone into her pocket with a smirk. “I’m definitely playing this at you guys’s wedding.”

Kara spluttered for several moments before sighing and slouching back in her chair, muttering about backstabbing dreamers and rude girlfriends as Nia and Lena started watching the video again.

///

The second time it happened wasn’t Kara’s fault. She was fighting an alien nearly as strong as her, and one of its punches sent her careening through the air and straight through the flimsy material of the billboard, this time one advertising cat food. Kara thought nothing of it at the time, focused on the fight and not even realizing what had just happened. It wasn’t until she’d flown back to the DEO, alien safely apprehended, that she found out about it.

“You are affecting the billboard industry in very interesting ways,” Brainy commented when Kara trudged out of the infirmary, a small scowl on her face since the fight had interrupted her lunch with Lena.

“I’m- what?”

Brainy turned to her, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Companies have begun hiring analysts to predict which billboards are in areas you might crash through and have even begun trading billboards in an effort to find the ‘sweet spot’.”

“It’s that bad?” Kara asked, horrified. “I only crashed through one!”

“Two, actually,” Brainy corrected, pointing the large screen taking up the back wall. A billboard advertising a tasty cat food with a large hole torn though the place the bowl of food used to be glared back at her tauntingly. “And it is that good. The companies want Supergirl to crash through their billboards. They have come to see it as a badge of honor. A ‘Super-stamp of approval’ as Ms. Thomas put it.”

“I’m just glad they aren’t billing us,” J’onn added, standing off to the side, his arms crossed and a rare, wide grin on his face. “If only National City saw infrastructure damage the same way.”

Kara groaned and flew away as J’onn asked Brainy if they could start charging the billboard companies.

///

The third time wasn’t Kara’s fault either, but she didn’t say anything when Alex lectured her about it. She had been on her way to interview someone for an article when Lena had sent her a very… distracting picture and she’d accidently flown through a billboard advertising lingerie of all things (oh the irony). She was just glad she’d crashed through part of the company’s slogan and not anywhere inappropriate on the picture of the model.

///

“I can’t believe you’re running this story,” Kara grumped, flopping down onto the couch in Lena’s office at L-Corp. She’d flown over from CatCo as soon as Snapper had handed out assignments in the bull pen. “And I really can’t believe you’re making me write it!”

“I thought it might be fun for you.” Lena glanced at Kara over her laptop, but quickly looked back at the screen as she continued typing out an email to R&D, outlining all the reasons a Supergirl-flight-path-predictor was a horrible idea, billboard companies be damned. “You always feel bad when your fights cause property damage, but these people are actually arguing over which bit of damage you caused is best.”

“But it’s so embarrassing,” Kara whined, throwing her hands over her face. “I know they won’t know it’s me, but I have to interview them about the holes I made in their billboards and then write an article outlining which one is ‘the most representative of Supergirl’.” The eyeroll was audible in her voice.

Lena hummed in response but when Kara was quiet she stopped typing again and looked up. “Personally, darling, I’m a fan of the hole in the lingerie advertisement. It’s not as well-placed as the others, but I do appreciate that you were apparently more distracted then than when you were drunk.”

Kara lifted one of her hands enough to give Lena the side-eye. “That was your fault and you know it. Rao, I still can’t believe you texted me a picture of you- of you-”

“More scantily clad than the lingerie model whose billboard spotlight you stole?” Lena quipped, arching her eyebrow.

Kara squeaked an affirmative and fled her girlfriend’s sultry look, figuring she’d best get the interviews over with before she got hot and bothered enough to crash through a fourth billboard and had to add another interview to her list.

///

Supergirl only crashed through a few more billboards in the following months, but apparently graffiti artists found it all quite inspiring because the Superfriends seemed to send Kara a new skillfully painted picture of herself breaking through brick walls and train cars at least once a week. (She’d never admit it to anyone, but she actually liked the one of a chibi Supergirl bursting out of a water tower, spurts water following behind her… she’d liked it so much she’d let the kid who painted it finish before she’d flown her down and lectured her on the dangers of precarious perches for humans.)

[asianhappinesss]

Maiden Holmes (2020)

Summary

It is the sixth century CE and the Qi Kingdom, in what is now Eastern China, is a land at war.

The young teenage prince Xiao Yan Zhi, a prodigal young military talent, is sent to ward off a force of invaders. Although he makes a valiant effort, his army is ultimately ambushed and defeated in a decisive battle. An opportunist foe at the imperial court takes advantage of the situation, forcing Pei Yan Zhi to step down as head of the army – and manages to get a young subservient candidate to take the throne.

Pei Yan Zhi feels he was betrayed. He vows to get to the bottom of the intrigue and goes undercover to investigate, pretending to be a commoner to help him work undetected. On his quest for the truth, he meets a remarkably smart and resourceful young female detective named Su Ci. Together, they form a close bond. They team up with two other quick-witted young sleuths and make a joint bid to discover the scale of the scheming that has undermined the Imperial Palace.

Review

This review may contain spoilers

Blandly Okay

Skip to the final section for a quick, spoiler-free rating. The drama is actually less dramatic than how I made it sound—and definitely much less dramatic than other existing summaries out there, so much so that I went into it with higher expectations than what the drama ended up delivering. But despite me quickly adjusting those expectations, Maiden Holmes still fell short of good. Before I get into why, let’s start with some positives. Structurally Sound Procedurals I really enjoyed the set ups to some of the mystery cases. They’re not particularly well-executed at times as a lot of them are predictable, but you can see that the writers went the extra mile to make them believable and intriguing crimes. My favorite is the serial killer case—it’s the only one of the bunch where I didn’t foresee the actual culprit until it was obvious. Su Ci is, by all means, a great detective. She’s genuinely good at her job and takes pride in what she does. What’s more, her crime solving skills are one of the few things the drama shows instead of tells, which is rare whenever a drama protagonist is declared to have a specialty skill. They tried to model her after the BBC’s version of Sherlock Holmes in the beginning though, which resulted in this utterly ridiculous moment in episode 2 of her deducing that a pigeon is too burnt to eat: Thank goodness that didn’t last long. Reasonable, Adult Characters I’ve never seen such a perfectly reasonable bunch of main and side characters. When it’s revealed to the friend group that Su Ci is a woman, Rushuang stayed angry for, like, one afternoon before forgiving her. After Su Ci’s true gender gets exposed, the Prince of Qi becomes “woke” and makes it a mission to promote the idea of female officials and feminism in the workforce. When Fu Ziyou rejects Princess Yun Chuan, she wishes him all the best and lets him be instead of becoming embittered. Even the Empress Dowager and the Emperor’s relationships with the Prince of Qi are amicable and cordial, when in every other drama there would’ve been suspicions and doubts abound. Every notable “good” character in Maiden Holmes communicates with each other. They’re almost always on the same page, hold similar points of view, and are all incredibly understanding and empathetic to each other’s plights. Consequently, there are no direct major conflicts between any of them. No philosophical disagreements, no opposing points of view, no discord due to conflicting allegiances, no differing principles shaped by different upbringings. Even the eventual reveal of Xie Beiming’s adopted father, which leads to him to question where his loyalty lay, gets quickly resolved with some heart-to-heart bro talk with the Prince of Qi. Which brings me to Maiden Holmes’ biggest flaw… Not Enough Antagonism The Prince of Yun is a stock villain at best. You can spot his villainy a mile away, and it’s beyond obvious every step of the way that he’s directly or indirectly responsible for most of the crimes in the drama. Despite him being a constant hindering presence, that’s all he does—he hinders. He’s a very reactive character, always taking actions after he learns what the good guys are up to. The problems he creates for them—the framing and mass murdering of the Bai Liang clan, the military sabotages, the secret amassing of an army and supplies—all happens either before the drama’s present-day, or off screen. That doesn’t make for a very exciting baddie. I think he would’ve been an okay villain for any other set of protagonists. But for a group like Su Ci, the Prince of Qi, Rushuang, and Xie Beiming (and I’d even count the Emperor, who loves and trusts his brother a little too unconditionally for someone so close to his throne), who are somehow able to resolve every interpersonal misunderstanding and internal strife, he’s just an ineffective opponent. This is especially evident during the anticlimactic ending episode, where his every move gets countered and rendered useless by the Prince of Qi. Major Pacing Issues and Plot Driven Conveniences Maiden Holmes is also

riddled with pacing issues. For instance, in episode 23, when Su Ci is explaining why a victim’s blood splatter didn’t match witness accounts, she spends three whole minutes giving her friend (and thus us, the audience) a forensic breakdown on the angles of blood splatters. She could’ve easily proven her point in ten, fifteen seconds top. It’s like that all throughout. Conversations that could have taken two or three lines of dialogues drag on for minutes. Scenes that could have taken a minute drag on for five. There are fluff and filler moments everywhere, killing the momentum. There are also random moments of convenience. For example, in episode 18, the main suspect for poisoning Princess Yun Chuan just… leaves a major piece of evidence behind. And it gets played off as, “Oh no! I, a seasoned and professional spy and assassin, escaped. But I, a seasoned and professional spy and assassin, forgot the one piece of evidence that could implicate me and my superior.” Now, of course, things like that happen in real life. But it’s narratively stupid to do so without setting this character up to be someone who would forget. The Romance? Cliches Galore One of the first notes I wrote while watching Maiden Holmes episode 1 was, “This episode be like: How Many Cliches Can We Stuff Into 35 Minutes” because I counted no less than five instances of tropey moments: the slo-mo and dramatic music when Su Ci and the Prince of Qi first meet, the forced-by-circumstance groping, the handcuffing, the obligatory underwater kiss, falling on top of each other, Su Ci’s hair coming undone… Please, enough! You can’t substitute the development of real love and intimacy with… whatever that crap is! The first moment of real chemistry between Su Ci and the Prince of Qi doesn’t happen until episode 6 when she swears to repay him rescuing her with three stipulations of his choosing, which I feel was the first time their relationship spoke for itself. From there on, bolstered by the fact that the good guys in this drama are incapable of having fundamental disagreements with each other, their romance goes on to be relatively unproblematic and free of sustained troubles. Which is okay if you’re into that sort of thing in a drama. On that note, another thing Maiden Holmes does have going for it is the lack of love triangles. Props to that. Final Rating and Recommendations Is Maiden Holmes good? No, I think it sucks. It’s bland, repetitive, cheesy, preachy, superficial, and clumsy story-telling. It feels as if the writers were so caught up in trying to make the drama faultless that they neglected to make it interesting. Every rising problem gets resolved instantly. The protagonists are never truly challenged because the plot shields them so much. You’re never once in doubt that the good guys are going to win at the end of the day. But on the flip side, it’s not without its saving graces. The characters communicate with each other, for once. The actors and the costumes are nice to look at. The detective/procedural parts of the overall story actually exist, and are sometimes well done. It’s very much a “safe” story, one that you’re guaranteed to come from away emotionally intact. If you’re looking to get immersed and excited by conflicts, plot twists, and dynamic characters, look elsewhere. But if you just want something feel-good and predictable, Maiden Holmes is the drama for you. My Rating: 3.5/10 (Note : This is the first drama to be given the lowest rating) Luckily I managed through the story . Thank God for that !

[alexiessan]

Never alone - Chapter Sixteen - Soulmate AU

AO3

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Master List

Hi! Today I just wanted to share a French song with you just because I like sharing French things :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jabih9mV6RQ

When Marinette saw Damian waiting for her the next morning, it made her so happy that she wanted to smile all day. She’s been dreaming about this ever since she met him as Robin, and she couldn’t be happier. She gave him a kiss as a good morning, lingering a little, not surprised when he took advantage of it to kiss her again.

“Ready to meet my friends?” she asked, laughing a little.

The fashion designer knew that Robin — Damian, she corrected herself. She still wasn’t used to calling him by his real name — wasn’t a people person. He had very few friends, and he was happy with them. So she didn’t have much hope that he would get along with her friends. Knowing Damian, and knowing her friends, she was pretty sure that her soulmate would be more annoyed by her friends than anything else.

As long as they all could be civil with each other, she won’t force them to be friends.

Damian winced as she answered her.

“I’m not promising you anything.”

She smiled at his honesty.

“And I’m not asking you anything, except to be civil?”

She looked at him, laughing as he stayed silent.

“You can be civil and be your sarcastic, blunt self.”

“Most people would say that it’s not being civil.”

“Well, my friends can take it.”

She linked her arm with his.

“Come on, let’s go. I promise not to let you alone in the lion’s den.”

Claude, Allan, and Allegra were delighted when she introduced Damian as her soulmate. They gave them their congratulations, made small talk with Damian, but didn’t insist too much. Those three — she loved them to death, even though she hasn’t known them as long as her other friends —were very good at reading people and could tell that the Wayne — or Grayson, as they knew him — wasn’t at ease, and so, chose to back off.

She would have hugged them here and there, for being so friendly and understanding.

Now, to introduce him to Nino, Kim, Adrien, and Alya.

Nino and Kim would probably try to be noble and all and give Damian the brother talk, but she had hoped that she could prevent that. Knowing them since they were children meant that she had a lot of blackmails for both of them, and one word could make them rethink anything.

Adrien, sweet, sunshine child but also oblivious Adrien would probably just smile, congratulate them and move on to something else.

As for Alya…

She didn’t want to think about it.

“Already getting cozy with the new guy, girl?”

She should have known that her best friend would run her mouth like that. And she could say that Damian did not get a good first impression of the reporter if the tightening of his hand on hers were any saying.

Nino and Adrien were with the journalist, the blond with his sunshine smile on his face as usual, happy to be introduced to a potential new friend.

“Hi! You’re Damian, right? Nino told me you were new here, I’m Adrien!”

Damian nodded, lips pursed.

Well, here went her hope.

As little as it was in the first place.

“Speaking of Damian.” she started, gathering all their attention.

“You sure make friends fast, Mari.” observed Alya.

Marinette rolled her eyes. Yeah, she liked to be friendly with everyone, but she wouldn’t go as far as to say that she made friends with everyone either.

“Actually, Damian is my soulmate.”

Just as she predicted, Adrien’s smile became even more blinding, hugging her in his happiness, and nodding at Damian, not at ease with hugging someone he didn’t know. Which was good, because Damian would not have appreciated such a gesture from the model.

As Nino opened his mouth with a smirk, he caught sight of Marinette’s glare and how she mimicked a knife to the throat. She almost laughed as the bespectacled boy gulped and looked away, his words for her boyfriend dying in his throat.

Crisis prevented.

But she couldn’t say so for the Ladyblogger.

Alya started asking a lot of questions, questions that even Marinette never asked, and some that she didn’t even want the answers to. As the journalist was not stopping, she could see that her boyfriend’s patience was running thin, and was seconds away from snapping at Alya.

Thankfully, Nino noticed and took his girlfriend by the arm.

“Alya, stop. You shouldn’t ask all these questions, it’s none of our business and it concerns no one but Damian and Marinette, ok?”

Alya looked chastised but nodded, knowing she went too far.

“I’m sorry.”

Damian nodded in acknowledgment, not offering an answer. Marinette smiled at her best friend, squeezing her arm.

“We should head to class anyway.”

The introductions didn’t go as she had hoped, but at least, no one was rude, so she supposed that it went well, all things considered.

It was November and Marinette was happy.

Maybe it was stupid to focus on something like that, but she felt happy. She had a boyfriend she loved from the bottom of her heart — even if she still had to say those three words —, friends that she loved and loved her, a loving family, and partners in fighting the evil that she could call friends.

She was even civil with Lila. Sometimes, friendly even.

After three months at Françoise-Dupont, Damian still called everyone by their last name. No one really cared, as he was always polite and cordial with everyone, but it annoyed Alya to no end.

Those two didn’t get along at all. It made Marinette sad a little, but she knew she couldn’t force them to be friends. Plus, when the Eurasian girl organized outings with all her friends, they always make an effort to not argue.

And that’s all she could ask for, really.

Even if it meant that they just ignored each other, but, what could she do?

Damian got along best with Claude, Allan, and Allegra. She wouldn’t go as far as saying that he was friends with them, but he tolerated them more than anyone else in the class.

The youngest Wayne didn’t see Adrien often, as he was in another class and wasn’t allowed to go to a lot of outings, but she could see that the model was grating on his nerves.

She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly annoyed Damian about Adrien, but he didn’t snap at the blonde yet, so it was a victory in her eyes.

As for the others, he was cordial and polite, so she assumed that he didn’t despise them.

Now, she was in class with Ms. Bustier and Damian was nowhere to be seen.

She frowned. It wasn’t like Damian to be late, he was always very punctual and hated when others were late. She experienced it herself when she was late once on one of their dates. She shivered. She always made sure to be early, now.

Finally, Damian arrived, apologizing to the professor and making a beeline for his seat.

He still spared her a smile as she passed her, that she returned immediately before giving her attention back to the lecture.

Ten minutes after her boyfriend’s arrival, there was a whining behind her.

In synchronization, Claude and she turned, looking at Damian. A quick glance around the classroom showed her that they were the only ones to hear the noise.

Damian just stared at them, offering no explanation.

So they just turned around, focusing on the lecture once more.

When the whining came back, she just looked at Claude, who was also looking at her.

“What’s that noise?” he whispered.

She shrugged, not knowing the answer to that question.

When they heard it for the third time, they both turned around again, only to see Damian trying to hide a dog, whose head was on her boyfriend’s desk, demanding his attention.

She gasped at the cute scene in front of her.

“Claude, Marinette, is there a problem?” Ms. Bustier asked, hand on her hip, ready to scold them for not paying attention in class.

They turned back, facing the board.

“Nothing, Miss!” exclaimed Claude.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

The redhead teacher narrowed her eyes at them.

“Please, pay more attention.”

They nodded and she turned back to the board.

As soon as the bell rang for the morning break, Claude and Marinette turned for the nth time, facing Damian.

The dog’s head was resting on her boyfriend’s arm, dozing off.

As she observed the little dog more, she noticed that it was just a puppy, a few weeks old, with white, fluffy fur.

A Samoyed, she recognized.

And it was the cutest little thing ever.

She squealed.

“What the fuck are you doing with a puppy in school?” asked Claude in a whisper, his face showing how much he wanted to pet the puppy.

“I found her abandoned in an alley. What was I supposed to do, leave her there?”

So it was a she.

“No, of course not,” she agreed. “But school is, maybe, not the best place to bring her.”

The puppy opened her eyes and yawned, and both she and Claude cooed at the sight. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to them, so no one saw the little dog.

The teenage girl extended her hand to the dog, letting her sniff her and cooed once more when she licked her hand. Taking that as an invitation, she softly petted her head.

“What are you going to do with her?”

“I’ll take her to the vet after school and then I’ll take her home.”

She knew that he missed his dog back in Gotham, so she shouldn’t be surprised that he was so eager to adopt this little one.

“What is Dick going to say?”

“He doesn’t really have a choice.”

She laughed.

“No, I suppose he doesn’t.”

When she stopped petting the puppy, Claude extended his own hand to her and started petting her back when she allowed him too.

“Damn, this dog is too cute, I want to cry.” He made kissing noises at the dog. “So, what, you’re just going to hide it with you all day in school.”

“It’s Wednesday, a half-day, so I just have to keep her hidden for two more hours. I can manage. I did it before.”

The fashion designer smiled.

“You often save animals from the street like that?” she asked.

“More than you know.” He answered and bent over his desk to give her a soft kiss.

“Ugh, you guys are so cute, you make me want to puke.” Joked Claude.

“Call me cute one more time and you can say goodbye to your teeth.”

Claude just laughed, not taking his threat seriously at all.

It was surprising, really, when at the end of the morning — Wednesdays were only a half-day of classes, so they were done by 12:30— Damian did manage to not get caught with the dog.

He was the first one out of class and was waiting for Marinette outside.

She accompanied him to the vet, who took them between two clients, thankfully.

The puppy was fine, all things considered. She was a bit underweight though, probably that she’s been on the streets for a week or two with nothing to eat. It was a good thing that Damian found her when he did.

They then went to a store to buy all the necessities for the little dog, gave her something to eat, and bought sandwiches as lunch before they went to a park so the dog could spend his energy.

“She’s so small right now, I can’t believe she’s going to get so big in a few months,” she said as she took a hundred pictures of the dog. She was already in love with her.

She knew that her soulmate was an animal lover, that he was more at ease with them than with humans, so she had no doubt that he would take really good care of this little one. She just hoped that she would get along with his cat.

“It shouldn’t be an issue. Alfred the cat is used to be around other animals,” he answered her when she voiced her thoughts.

The dog came back to them, tired, and she lifted her to put her on her laps. She took a few selfies with the puppy and even got Damian to take some with her.

She also changed her unlock screen with one of the pictures they just took.

“What are you going to name her?” she asked as she petted the now sleeping dog.

“Hmm… I don’t know. What do you think I should name her?”

The blue-eyed girl beamed, happy that he was asking about her opinion. It meant a lot to her and she could say that it meant a lot to him too.

“Well, all this white fluff makes me think of a cloud, so why not Cloud?”

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek in affection.

It always made her blush when Damian did something like that in public, but she has learned that he just did whatever he felt like doing at the moment, so she didn’t mind it, as long as it stayed G rated.

“Cloud it is, then.”

Tag List:

@bigpicklebananatree​ @animegirlweeb​ @crazylittlemunchkin​ @northernbluetongue​ @cutechip​ @justafanwarrior​ @iloontjeboontje​ @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood​ @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff​ @toodaloo-kangaroo​ @mikantsume​ @dast218​ @amayakans​ @zestyzealot​ @lunarwolfspn​ @corabeth11​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @olynix​ @aestheticnpoetic​ @hot-neighbour-nextdoor​ @thehufflepuffranger-blog @k-poplunardreams​ @tis-i-beanbandit​ @bluesimani​

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 13

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~2,600

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

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Lilah swung the shopping bag in one hand, the other shoving the keys into her pocket. She’d ended out keeping the SUV Brasa had lent her the week previous, claiming that she liked the ‘rental’ so much that she’d made an offer to buy it outright. It was a believable lie, Lilah had a habit of picking up and dropping off cars on a whim. Easier to keep under the radar when no one knew what make and model she drove.

The air conditioning in the bar hit her hard, goosebumps rising along her arms. It was nearly empty, as it usually was mid-afternoon. Too late for the morning crowd to stay, too early for the night crowd to meander in. The room smelled vaguely of liquor and the sun streaming in through the windows cast unfamiliar shadows over the floor.

She noticed that Kate was sitting at the bar, nursing a soda. For once, Richie was nowhere to be seen. Lilah sidled on up to her, dropped the bag on the floor as she took a seat, and signaled to bartender.

“Bourbon and coke.”

Kate smiled at her, “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”

This was said with a smile that could potentially be described as sly. Lilah, like Seth, didn’t exactly adhere to a strict schedule when it came to alcohol. Too many nights that turned into days that turned into diving into a bottle to forget.

“It’ll be five o’ clock in...three hours,” Lilah quipped as she took the glass from the bartender, “Close enough.”

Lilah sat with her drink for a while, enjoying the fact that there was little to no activity going on in the bar. Aside from Kate and the bartender, the room was pretty much empty. She realized that she had spent almost all of her awake hours the last few days either catching up on what had happened while she was gone or in some kind of meeting.

Seth had taken a more active role in managing the staff, and he consulted with Lilah daily about one thing or another—usually some sort of internal conflict. She’d taken to writing down some basic policies and procedures for him to reference so that he wasn’t knocking on her door in the middle of the night with questions. Despite having just come back from a three month vacation, Lilah still needed to sleep.

A question floated across that train of thought, “What’s Richie been up to?”

Kate gave a little shrug, “The usual, trying to maintain some sort of order with our nocturnal friends.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Kate added, “Its not just Brasa’s people that are struggling to adjust. We’ve had some kickback here, too.”

To give herself a moment to think, Lilah took a slow pull from her glass, “And how is that going?”

“Well,” her voice had a soft tone of uncertainty, “They aren’t super happy that we’ve done some population control. Kind of kills the mood when we’re trying to get them to buy in to the new way of doing things.”

“I can imagine.”

Given what Lilah had seen in the cave not a few days before, she had a good idea of what Seth and Richie were facing on the other side of the fence. They offered work and beds to those who could staff the bar, but didn’t have the organization or power that Brasa seemed to have. It was lucky that Richie had such a mind that he could predict attacks with an uncanny accuracy. Otherwise, or both brothers would be dead by now.

Rolling her neck, Kate offered, “But, there are a surprising number that want to assimilate—they miss their old lives, you know?”

Lilah did know. There was still a part of her, slowly dwindling, that wanted to go back to the night she met Seth and tell him to fuck off. Everything would have been a whole lot simpler now, if she had. On the other hand, she wouldn’t have met Brasa. He’d become so critically ingrained in her everyday life that the thought of him not being there felt too strange to contemplate.

“Are you gonna talk about it now?” Kate asked without provocation. She had pushed her soda away and was fixing Lilah with a narrowed look.

Lilah blinked, “What?”

With a sigh borne out of frustration, Kate turned on her stool and faced Lilah head on, “The bond. Are you going to talk about it?”

Stunned, Lilah felt her jaw unhinge as she stared at Kate in shock. She went over her recent memories to double check that she hadn’t given it away. Lilah had kept it hidden, she was sure of it.

Kate laughed, a high, clear sound that made Lilah flinch, “Richie told me about it months ago. You can’t hide that kind of thing from other culebras. Its supposed to be obvious, for safety’s sake. Keeps them from crossing boundaries accidentally.”

Lilah continued to stare, her chest tightening as she slowly began to panic. She’d ask Brasa about how it was ‘obvious’ later, when her mind had stopped spinning. For now, she had no lie to put things to right again.

Kate noted her stricken expression and laid a gentle hand on her arm, “Its okay. I won’t tell. I just thought you might need someone to talk to. I know I did.”

Dear holy fuck, but Lilah really needed someone to talk to. All of these months and months of keeping her mouth shut had built up in a way that took an immense effort to subsume.

After another moment’s pause, Lilah blurted, “I don’t know how to handle it. Its everywhere, all the time. And… the worst part is that I don’t care. I’m still struggling to accept it, but I want to keep it.”

The dichotomy of being both ashamed and deeply satisfied by her relationship with Brasa was the thing that kept her chest tight, her shoulders hunched. It sat next to her as she tried to sleep at night. It needled her in the quiet moments between tasks. Lilah rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

Kate’s smile was serene, “That’s good, because if Richie’s anything to go by, Brasa wouldn’t allow you to break the bond, even if you wanted to. He’d die to keep it intact.”

Lilah’s brows came together, “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. He’d do anything to keep you with him. He kind of has to, anyways.”

“What does that mean?”

Kate lifted her hand to signal the bartender, “Two of what she’s having.” Then, she turned back to Lilah, “Listen, I don’t know if its matches up exactly with how my bond with Richie is, but Brasa is the one bonded to you, not the other way around.”

Lilah looked at her blank faced. The book had definitely not put it that way. Brasa had said he was the elder, he had said that he would be expected to lead.

The bartender brought their drinks and Kate fiddled with the little straw, stirring the ice around, “You’re weaker than he is.”

Lilah sneered, “Is it that obvious?”

Kate rolled her eyes, pushing Lilah’s glass at her, “Its always the strong party’s responsibility to protect and serve the weaker. Evens the playing field when—is it fate? Whenever whatever that decides these things steps in.”

“I don’t get it,” Lilah said blandly.

Honestly, she was getting tired of feeling confused. All these shifting realities were difficult enough to track and follow. She didn’t need to feel stupid on top of it.

Giving another little shrug, Kate took their drinks from the bartender, setting one in front of Lilah, “He’s like a billion years old and a literal demigod. The bond would weaken him long term, if he didn’t build you up, if he didn’t lend you some of his power.”

This rang of familiarity, and it made Lilah’s skin tighten with awareness of how she had never put two and two together. Still, the pieces weren’t locking into place cleanly enough for her to feel like she was on steady ground.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Swirling the amber liquid in her glass, Kate fixed her with a coy smile, “It means that a large part of his life will be spent listening to and anticipating your needs. In return, your blood will make him stronger than he ever was, or ever could be without it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Welcome to supernatural mating practices,” Kate deadpanned. “None of it really makes any sense.”

Lilah turned the whole thing around in her mind, “So, he has to do what I say?”

“He is inclined to do as you ask, but your safety and protection is his priority, above all.”

There was something in the statement that didn’t sit well with Lilah. She was used to commanding some sense of obedience during jobs, but this was far more intimate. It felt wrong to know that she could just...ask for something, and he would do it without question.

“But,” Lilah continued, “I don’t want to order him around.”

Kate set her glass down, “I don’t doubt it. I’ve had to learn to watch my words around Richie. If I even look at something in store for more than five seconds, It’ll be waiting for me when we get home.”

Lilah thought about it. Brasa hadn’t bought her anything, that she could tell, but he had given in to her will on numerous occasions. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Have you had the dreams yet?”

Lilah snapped back to attention, “Dreams?”

“Yeah,” Kate prompted, her expression taking on a little excitement, “Where you’re sharing them?”

“Uh,” Lilah drawled, embarrassed, “A little.”

Kate nodded sagely, “If the bond is stressed, you’ll have more of them.”

“Why?”

“No idea,” Kate said as she fiddled with her glass.

There was a long silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. Lilah considered how far she’d come in her bond with Brasa, and how far she still needed to go. There were so many unknowns, and she feared that her reticence would eventually lead to him leaving her. And yet...Kate had said that he couldn’t—that would lead to worse things. Lilah could handle rejection, but eternal resentment was not something she was prepared to deal with.

“What’s he like?”

Lilah looked up at the question, her brows rising, “Who?”

Kate shot her a knowing look, “Brasa.”

Lilah considered the question, her breath flowing out of her lungs in a soft sigh, “He’s accommodating.”

“And?”

Lilah felt another little wave of embarrassment well up. She wasn’t used to disclosing this kind of information, and the thought of gushing to a girlfriend about a lover made her cringe. Still, this was likely the only person in the world who could really understand what she was going through, who could put things into perspective and help her make good decisions.

“He’s...smart. So smart. Every time we talk about the business, I feel like I’m taking a master class. And, he really listens to me, wants to know my opinion on things.”

“And?”

She thought further, “He’s attractive. Sometimes I look at him and I just…”

As she trailed off, Kate nudged her, “Have you had sex yet?”

“No,” Lilah admitted, “Although we’ve made out a few times—fuck, that makes me sound like a teenager.”

Kate chuckled, lifting her glass to her mouth, “That’s what I felt like, too. Although, I was actually, like, seventeen when Richie and I met.”

This was a story that Lilah had been waiting to hear. The two of them were so diametrically opposed in personality that the match seemed unlikely. She had asked Richie just the one time about how they got together, before Kate had been rescued from Amaru. His only answer was that he ‘kidnapped her.’

“Yeah?” Lilah prodded lightly.

“Yep,” she sat the glass down, “I don’t think either of us knew what was going on. Not until much later.”

“When did you finally figure it out?”

Kate pushed her dark hair from her face, her gaze contemplative, “After Amaru—in Xibalba, actually. We had a little time to talk when we were traveling between worlds. Richie had learned a lot while we were separated.” She paused, a smile forming on her lips, “He had to do a lot of convincing, but what Amaru knew, I knew. And, she knew about bonding. Even though I put it off for a bit, I knew eventually I would have to come to terms with it.”

Lilah felt the question she wanted to ask rise, and she almost tamped it down, but her lesser instincts kicked in, “Do you regret it?”

Kate shook her head, “Richie can be a real asshole, but he loves me. And all the other things that he is, all the things that make up our relationship, they satisfy me in ways I can’t describe.”

And that was exactly how Lilah felt, when she took the time to examine the bond more closely. All the restlessness of her life settled into a soothing, temperate pace when she was with him. Her eager ideas gained focus and precision, her impulsivity checked.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Lilah said as she slumped in her chair.

Kate gave her sympathetic look, “I was trying to help you unload a bit of what you’ve been carrying around.”

To be fair, Lilah did feel lighter. There was still the issue of dealing with Seth and his temper when he found out, but she found that she liked having a secret ally in all of this. It lent her a small bit of safety that she appreciated.

Lilah glanced at her, “Does anyone else know?”

Shaking her head, Kate put her finger to her lips, “Its our secret, for now. But, it’ll come out eventually. Like I said, you can’t hide this kind of thing for long.”

“I know,” Lilah admitted, “Brasa is willing to keep this under wraps for the moment, but I can tell he’s frustrated by it.”

Kate watched her absorb that for a moment, then added, “Pro tip: Sleep with him.”

Lilah said her name in almost a yelp, shocked by the directive.

“I’m not kidding,” Kate said on a laugh, “Sex and blood are cornerstones of their relationships. They’re what bind them together, like it or not. Give him those things, and he’ll settle down enough so that you can figure this out.”

Lilah thought about it, then said the thing that had kept her hiding this secret for longer than she would like, “Seth is going to hate me.”

Kate acknowledged the statement with a salute of her drink, “He might not like it. He might mope around for a few months—hell, he might take off entirely. But, he’ll be back. He just has to have his tantrum first.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“How?”

Kate lifted a shoulder, “He did the same thing with Richie when he was turned. Ran off for a bit. He’ll come around. Once he realizes that being a big baby about it means that you won’t be in his life anymore.” She paused a second, then, “We’re a family, you know? All of us. And, the most important thing to Seth is family.”

“You think so?” Lilah echoed.

Kate smiled warmly, “I know so.”

[jiskblr]

Blauprinz and his crew

My blood parents I never knew. Berliners, probably, but they left me in an anarchist-affiliated charity orphanage in Potsdam before I was six months old, so all I know for sure is that they named me Artur. I was adopted fairly late as these things go, about five, by the people who I consider my parents: Jurgen and Verena Carolingt. They could have had blood children, but chose to adopt, and frequently. When I was twelve I had five foster-sibs, but they slowed down after that; I only have two more sibs from the next decade, and they were adopted as the eldest four of us moved out. That's not counting Leo, who was their second fosterling; he was a real hellraiser and chafed at the academic's morality they tried to enforce, so he ran away to join a street gang. I got back in touch with him years later; for all that he left, he was as angry as me about - but that's getting ahead of myself.

My parents were academics, professors at Viadrina Universitat in Frankfurt-Oder, but in their more subtle way raised hell just as much as Leo. They grew up during the first partition, Da in East Germany and Ma in West Berlin, and they both hated the idea of hiding what they believed to cater to the powerful. They didn't budge in their convictions that everyone deserved a chance or that their conclusions deserved to be followed to their end. They believed in equality and metahuman rights, even when that was fairly unpopular, and they lived it. I'm a norm as were they, but my sibs are an even split of norms and orks plus one dwarf. They didn't adopt elves, who got snapped up more easily by more prejudiced parents, nor trolls, who posed logistical hurdles they didn't think they could deal with. (They felt bad about leaving out trolls, though, and donated generously to several charities for them. I do too, now, in their memory.) They budged just as little in their research, not even to stay quiet about it. When their research topics - applied sociology and economics of magic, for Da and Ma, respectively - developed from postulates to specific, inconvenient predictions and prescriptions for the practical world which got the corps to lean on their deans to quiet them down or kick them out, even so they stuck to their guns.

That pressure started to build around when I turned 18, and got worse as I went through my degree. When it all went to hell, I was a post-doc in applied modern theology - university-speak for 'shaman-ology' - and Zanne was a thesis candidate in high-energy experimental thaumics - studying when magic goes 'boom'. Gabi had given academia a serious try but it wasn't for her, so she'd become a net security wageslave in Potsdam - though honestly she'd be happier as a SINless decker. Fritz and Deb were undergrads at Viadrina, and Jost, Lotte, and Sascha were still young and at home. I don't understand what exactly was enraging the powers that be about their research; I think Mother had published something demonstrating that the publicly-known processes for producing refined orichalcite should produce a far lower market price, indicating that there was a covert cartel, and Father had models indicating that parts of the Eurowars didn't fit naturally with the known social dynamics pre-bellum, indicating deliberate provocation by some powerful force. True or not, either might have been the provocation. There had been escalating threats, but I wasn't living there, so I didn't hear about that; later, when I researched the background, I learned there’d been a fire started in the garage, broken windows, a chemical warfare agent left hissing in Dad's office after hours. But the first I heard of it was when I was back home, a week in late April, for Easter and Mother's birthday.

When some fucking Johnson carpet-firebombed the entire fucking house.

I don't know if they knew we'd be there. They had to know there were innocent children, there; Jost and Sascha weren't even ten yet. My parents died in the first few seconds, their corpses vaporized. Lotte was hugging Mother, so she was, too, and Fritz was just far enough away to leave dental records. Jost was less lucky; he roasted, but not quickly, and survived three hours before he died in agony. Deb lost a leg and an eye and as far as I know the pain's never stopped. Sascha was in the other room and got out, with severe scarring but none disabling. Zanne as well. Gabi wasn't there; the bosses wouldn't give her time off, and I'm not sure if that was a mercy or a curse. I was next to Father, and as far as the records know, I flash-fried like Lotte. But I'm a shaman of the Dragonslayer, and the fire washed over me. I tried to shield Dad with my body, but my totem isn't a protector; it preserved me, and much better than it would most of its shamans, but that didn't extend to him. I tried to help Jost when I realized he'd lived, but he told me to run and get revenge. I didn't realized Zanne or Sascha made it until much later; Zanne had hit her head and went unconscious quickly, and Sascha's response to pain always was to freeze up. But I kept it together enough to get to the basement, and there was ductwork Zanne had discovered years earlier and shown me, which connected it to three doors down. She'd also shown me the nearest part of the Berlin Underground - we snuck out through that ductwork - which had an ork gang she'd run with sometimes, so I thanked her memory about a hundred times that night. The gang leader by then, Ratbite, turned out to be one of the toughs she'd run with, and recognized me. I wasn't shy about using her memory to get a favor, and traded my shamanic skills - and some medical assistance - to get help going completely dark, wiping me from the databases so I could go truly SINless. He was pretty pissed when he found out she wasn't dead, but by then the favor was spent, and when she went dark as well she did him a couple favors and he mostly forgave me and accepted my excuse that I'd thought I was telling him the truth.

The official story was that the firebombs were thrown by a human-supremacist policlub, Nationale Aktion I believe, who objected to our outspokenly mixed-race family. This was bullshit, but plausible enough bullshit that the department heads and local politicians could easily pretend to believe it and be seen to Do Something in response, without that Something doing anything to harm corporate interests. Sascha I think believes that story, or prefers to act like he does. Deb, Gabi, and Zanne, though, didn't. And Zanne was good at causing explosions, but terrible at keeping her temper in check. She retaliated, with prejudice. Headline-making prejudice, which is how I and my temporary friend Ratbite learned she was alive. She had a big bounty for a couple years, but some anarchists gave her shelter before the corps reacted, and from there she became a runner as well. She didn't know I'd survived, though she did suspect, so I found her first, and joined the crew she ran with at the time. After that one came apart, the two of us have assembled all our future crews together. Well, mostly me, I'm the Face, but she still has better ties in anarchist and goblinoid circles; there's a lot of orks and trolls who won't trust a smoothskin, even one like me with an established rep.

Our vengeance is still a work in progress. The men who carried out the hit were deniable contractors, corp security from a minor place. They went down in an op our second year running, and the company got enough blowback from that job that it folded a year later. Finding out who gave the order is not quite done, but we've narrowed the field. I've got a solid network, and, well, my surviving siblings aren't any happier about it than me. Sascha pushed back when Zanne tried to contact him; I think he wants to put it behind him. Deb's a professor herself now, but she hasn't given up on justice, and Gabi-. She works for the corps, and counter to the ork stereotype is a very cold person in most ways; rationally, I know that gave me reasonable cause to doubt her. But after we finally made contact, we found her heart was cold, but a cold-burning hatred. A grudge aged like wine, but still so raw and deep that it feels unthinkable she could have made any other choice. Even the idea that she might have sided with her bosses over her family feels completely embarrassing to have considered. And Leo, like I said earlier, was almost as mad; he left home, but he still loved them for giving him a home to run from. (I hadn't realized, but he sent them gifts every Christmas, mostly hand-made, from the first year he'd left right through their deaths - he didn't learn about their deaths until he tried to deliver their gifts that year.) He's a complete ork stereotype, though, his anger is intense and searing. He'll let it go for months and then find something that reminds him again and smash up some corp's office, mostly at random. I try to give him more productive outlets when I can, but he refuses to go professional runner so he's probably going to end up landing in an early grave with his gang despite my best efforts. Not that we're really close, but I've lost too much family to let my crazy ex-brother join them.

[mortedeveles]

Model For Me

HERE: PART FIVE.

PART ONE. PART TWO. PART THREE. PART FOUR. PART SIX. 

Summary: Y/N has always been a timid and awkward person and artist when it comes to social interactions and it only gets worse when she asks her crush and best friend, Katsuki Bakugou, to model for her.

And not just any type of modelling; Y/N needs to do a composition of a nude male body. Luckily for her, Katsuki’s personality is anything but shy and he doesn’t hesitate to undress in front of her. It’s for art, he says. But something tells Y/N that the boy has hidden and devious intentions, intentions that she has to unravel and discover.

Copyright © 2020-2021 by Veles.

Genre: fluff, humor, suggestive content (a wee bit of NSFW themes)

TW: cursing, sexual themes, nudity.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!artist!reader

________

QUIRK: LIQUIFY! Y/N can manipulate any type of liquid to her advantage and can also melt inanimate objects, but doesn’t work on animals, plants, or people. And at night time she can make any type of liquid into a solid!  

_________

a/n: hellooo! i have an AUTHOR’S NOTE at the end and I would appreciate if you guys took the time to read it! as always, please leave a like, follow, reblog and/or comment if you enjoyed! i really appreciate it! 

I don't like Katsuki.

I don’t like Katsuki.

We're just... friends.

You kept repeating the words in your head for a week, but it was useless. You were lying to yourself and you knew it- the feelings you had for Katsuki weren't platonic.

They had never been platonic, perhaps at the beginning of your friendship they were, but not anymore.

Since your last modeling session, you did your best to stay under the radar and avoid Katsuki. What he had said was simple and true, but whenever you recalled the moment, you wanted to scream. Maybe avoiding him wasn't the best idea- considering the fact that he hated being ignored, but you couldn't handle being close to him.

You had been perfectly aware that you had a crush on Katsuki but when he stated that you two weren't anything, why were you trying so hard to convince yourself you didn't like him?

Every glance you shot his way made your heart ache. Watching from a distance only reminded you of reality- you're nothing to him. Just a friend.

You were a friend and nothing else. He was way out of your league- you would never be able to tangle your life with his.

He was one of the top three of 1A, possessed a marvelous quirk and although he could have murderous tendencies, his determination and strength left you breathless.

But...you? You were only becoming a Pro Hero because your parents had pressured you into it and you didn't have a choice. If it was up to you, you would be a professional artist. Liquify wasn't an extraordinary quirk, compared to Katsuki's.

You were nothing compared to him.

These negative and insecure thoughts flooded your mind for the next few days, and without even realizing, you had placed some distance between your friends and yourself, including Katsuki. 

It was Wednesday and throughout the entire school day you had escaped from Katsuki- twice. Today you had your art class and you desperately needed to talk to Aneko. 

If you could talk to someone- Aneko in particular- about your current situation, you knew that it would remove the invisible weight from your shoulders.

Ranting out loud had always helped you calmed down and it was just what you needed today. Though, the interactions you avoided with Katsuki today were making you feel more stressed and overwhelmed by the minute.

When the final school bell rang, you blocked out any noise and began to pack your materials quickly. You didn't notice how Katsuki called out for you twice and how there was a glimpse of sadness on his face before it was quickly replaced by an angered expression. Or how Mina was carefully watching the scene.

You were a foot away from stepping out of school grounds when a pair of familiar warm and heavy hands clamped down on your shoulders. 

You practically ran out of the school buildings and picked up your speed when you heard Katsuki's explosions. By the sounds of it, he was not happy.

You can do it, you thought. If you can just make it to the end of the day without talking to him, everything will be fine.

''Fucking hell!'' he growled. ''Do I always have to grab you like this, you shitty girl?!'' you were used to Katsuki's shouts and insults, but this time his words made you flinch.

No, no! You wanted to scream. I can't face Katsuki today, not right now! Why can't he leave me alone?!

Your body froze on the spot, but you refused to turn around. One look at his bright red eyes would render you useless.

''Why the fuck won't you look at me?!'' he forcefully turned you around but you struggled to meet his gaze.

''I...I'm...,'' your face was burning out of embarrassment but just as you predicted, your heart ached when you met his gaze.

He was so, so close to you and yet, so far out of your reach.

''I have to go,'' you murmured and tugged his hands away from your shoulders.

 Katsuki stared at you with a bewildered look and you grew painfully aware of the sudden audience you had. Several students were near you, watching the scene develop as they giggled and murmured with each other.

''Hah?!" despite the aggressiveness in his tone, Katsuki dropped his hands and glared daggers at your head as you walked away.

You didn't dare look back and your entire body was tense- fearing that Katsuki would shout or chase after you. But once you took notice that he did neither, you felt your body relax.

Though, Katsuki never took his eyes off you. He watched you with a peculiar expression as you fled from the school. 

Once you arrived at the train station and stepped into the train, you sat down and pressed your palm over your heart. It was racing and the thumping of your heart roared in your ears.

''Everything will be okay,'' you murmured to yourself. You made sure to keep your voice low enough so no one besides yourself could hear.

''You'll get through this.'' 

When the train roared to life and the journey to the recreative center begun, you closed your eyes and doze off to the sound of your heart beat.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━  

''Y/N. Let me see your progress,'' you quickly handed over your art piece to your teacher. She hummed and pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose, raking her eyes over the details that held all your effort.

''It's looking beautiful so far, Y/N,'' you smiled and clasped your hands together. Her compliment made your heart swell.

''Thank you, miss!" you outstretched your hands to receive your artwork but faltered when your teacher frowned and stared closely at your work.

''Is this...this boy seems very familiar...'' she murmured. You felt panic invade your veins and you discretely took your artwork with a shrug.

''Maybe you've seen him on TV, miss! I wouldn't know, he's just a friend of mine...,'' you laughed awkwardly and quickly stashed your work into your backpack. Aneko was watching the two of you with a mischievous smile and once your teacher nodded and stepped away to attend other students, she laughed loudly.

''Afraid that sensei is going to steal your boyfriend?'' she winked but you felt your stomach drop at her words. ''Don't worry, he only has eyes for you,'' she crooned. You groaned in response and shook your head. 

''I don't want to hear about Katsuki again,'' you grumbled angrily. Aneko frowned and crossed her arms.

''Wait, why? Is everything okay between the two of you?''

Your hand faltered and hovered above your backpack and you swallowed visibly.

''I...I don't know,'' you murmured and sighed loudly.

Aneko frowned and clutched your hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

''I would really like that.'' 

''If you want to talk about it, I can come over today,'' the teasing tone in her voice had quickly left and there was nothing but concern and understanding in her voice.

You smiled and nodded. 

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting on your bed. Aneko is sitting next to you as the two of you munch on unhealthy snacks.

''So?'' Aneko asked between bites. ''What's up?''

You sighed and dropped the snack on the bed. This would take long.

''As you know, I've had feelings for Katsuki for like, since the beginning of studying at U.A. We've only been friends and that's okay with me, but something changed in the last session.'' you let out another dramatic sigh and grab a chip.

''Actually, since the second session, Katsuki has been acting a bit weird...'' you grumbled and crossed your arms. ''He's been oddly quiet and sometimes even distant and well, mom was home in our last session.''

You heard Aneko choke and splutter. Her reaction made you laugh and shake your head in amusement. 

''Oh my god,'' Aneko cackled. ''What did your mom say?!''

Nervously, you scratched your head and slumped your shoulders.

''There's the problem. Um... so we were having dinner together, and my mom asked us if we were a couple of and-,'' you were interrupted by Aneko's loud laughter. 

''Jesus!" she wheezed and turned over in your bed. You snickered. ''Did she really say that?''

Your face warmed up at the memory and you nodded. ''Yeah! It was really embarrassing. Anyways...'' you faltered and lowered your voice. ''The thing is, I just said and Katsuki well, he said that we weren't dating. But when he said that, I don't know why it hurt so much? His tone was so cold and firm...'' You groaned and buried your head in your hands.

''I don't know what's wrong with me,'' your words were muffled behind your hands.

You heard Aneko sigh and gently remove your hands from your face.

''Nothing's wrong with you, babe. You like the guy, and that’s why it hurts,'' she offered you a smile. 

''Tomorrow's our last session and I don't know what to do.'' 

Aneko hummed in response. She grinned deviously and clasped her hands together.

''Well then, that's it! Tomorrow, you should confess your feelings at the end of the session,'' 

Your mouth went dry and you swallowed thickly. 

''What?'' was the first thing that came to you. ''No, I can't do that...''

Aneko sighed and cradled your face between her hands, making your cheeks look squishy.

''You can and you will, honey. The boy likes you, that's obvious. You should at least tell him how you feel,'' Aneko's gazed drifted away but quickly returned to you, this time with a grin on her lips. ''And who knows? You'll probably score a date for the weekend!" she shot you a wink. 

''Just relax, Y/N. Don't overthink it. He likes you, and everything will be perfectly fine. Okay?'' she smiled softly.

You nodded and inhaled deeply. Aneko was right. You were stressing over nothing! Tomorrow would be the last session and by the end of it, you would make sure that your feelings were known to Katsuki.

But knowing your luck, things wouldn't go as planned.

''You're right,'' you forced a smile. ''There's nothing to worry about.''

hi guys! can’t believe i have 100 follows this fast. i really appreciate all the fb and support i receive from everyone <3 to celebrate 100 followers, i will be OPENING my REQUESTS! here’s some of the basic information;

-i will open my requests for 5-8 slots

-i will share a prompt list and you can choose a number, character and whatsover!

-my requests will be available for MHA and JJBA. 

reminder: my requests are not open YET. i will post an individual post with all the details explained! this is just like an intro. if you’re interested, stick around to stay updated! xx 

TAG LIST:  @bakugou-is-my-daddy @justanotherlifeff @seokookchan @playboygeniusphilanthropist @awwjesus-gross @jenna-sakura @mykuronekome @ggclarissa @irenevyas @mrstodorooki​ @warmchoccymilk​ @coupsieddori​ @yikerb​ DM me if you want to be on my taglist or if I forgot to add you!!