#I assume it’s a typo on explosive

[mstormcloud]

Legend Linked Universe

[lizdive]

saw ur inbox is open so i jumped right into the opportunity 🤭 just recently discovered ur blog and AUGH i love your writing!! the lack of platonic stuff is a CRIME.. 💔

could i request something with aventurine being an older (adoptive) brother to teen reader? if you want some extra lore, the ipc basically found the reader and wanted to use their powers for themselves cuz theyre like- crazy op- 😭 (reincarnation of an aeon typa shit) so they placed the reader into aventurine's care bcuz he was the only person they weren't hostile towards-

SORRY THIS GOT A LITTLE LONG ?! you don't need to use the extra lore if you dont want to btw! i just put it there :3

can be either hcs or a oneshot/drabble, u can choose!! >_<

please and thank u!!!! (ゝω・´★)

YOU’RE SO SWEET YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME ILUSM ☹️🩷🤍 Aventurine is my everything I love when people send me reqs about him he’s never left my team since I’ve gotten him 😭 ALSO I LOVE THE EXTRA LORE I LOVE UR BRAIN LEMME KISS IT MWAH 💋 tysm for requesting <33 if you’re unsatisfied just tell me and i’ll redo this 🫶

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" + "they/them" used to refer to the reader ,, reader is a teenager but is implied to be ancient ,, reader is implied to be a part of tayzzyronth — aeon of the propagation — and can be up for interpretation, however they do have swarm abilities ,, i did some research on tayzzyronth however there may be things that are not accurate or do not align with canon as tayzzyronth and the swarm is very confusing ,, reader grows a hatred for qlipoth — aeon of the preservation and their followers aka the ipc ,, platonic relationships ,, ipc activities as usual ,, penacony mission at the end ,, i feel like i derived from og request i’m sososo sorry ,, ending is cringe ngl ,, this is not proofread so ignore typos

Bugs, insects, flies — you do not know what these creatures are referred to as. You do not know of their origin, and you do not know if you are one of them taking a different form. They treat you as if you are one of them and protect you like you are their ruler.

The planet you reside on is dark. There is no other being except for these creatures that swarm you like you are their creator and their savior. You rarely move. Your cheek has grown accustomed to the cracked grounds of this wasteland as you slumber for periods of time you know not the length of. It is gray, yet you sometimes spot the colorful liquid that leaves their bodies as they succumb to the eternal slumber you sometimes seek.

There is no coldness and there is no hotness — you are always warm. They blanket you with their wings and speak to you in a language you have learned to understand.

"The followers of Qlipoth are coming!" they would say, and yet you did not know who they spoke of. The concept of beings existing that are not you or the insects that flutter about bringing you sustenance and company is foreign, and your young mind cannot comprehend it without physical proof. You assume they jest as they always do to try and humor you, and so you do not acknowledge their warnings.

"The followers of Qlipoth have come, you must leave!" And yet you chose to remain on the cracked grounds that have filled your sight for the many years you have lived. You chose to remain under their wings which shielded you as they fought against Qlipoth’s devout to keep them away from your form.

They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hear the shrieks of your swarm. They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hear the loud explosions which cause the frail floors to crack more and more. They are weak, you convince yourself, as you hold a baby bug in your arms like a toy to sooth the bubbling feeling of fear which is so foreign to you.

They are not weak, you realize, as you feel their hands pull at you from beneath the pile of dead creatures, doing their best to fight off the hallucinations from their wings.

These people — the followers of Qlipoth — are enemies. They do not deserve what the insects would call 'mercy'. The chains which cling to some of your joints barely hold you back as you scream at them in what sounds to them like gibberish. Your body is weak from the lack of movement, yet what you consider weakness is considered as strength that was once unattainable to them.

"If I didn’t know of the swarm I’d assume they were an abomination of the abundance," a woman speaks, yet her words mean nothing to you for you cannot understand them. You do not know who spoke, and you do not care. They are all enemies, and this 'Qlipoth' that they follow will be struck down by your own hands one day. They follow this being and therefor this being is the one to order them to do such horrendous acts.

You make an attempt to flutter the thin wings that decorate your back but they feel heavy. You look back and find them to be hidden away and chained. You do not feel the pain, but perhaps it is just the adrenaline rushing through you.

"Did you really have to cover them up like that?" "The workers said that they were hallucinating, we couldn’t risk it."

A gloved hand is placed in front of you. There is nothing in it. The golden rings shine under the lighting of the room you are in. The shimmer is new to your eyes and makes you squint from the reflecting light. You are used to the dullness of your 'home' planet, so when you look up to properly face the man who seems innocent enough, you recoil at the brightness off his appearance.

The many layers of clothes he adorns makes you curious. You do not wear much, only enough to properly cover you. The insects would keep you warm. Yet he wears so much — so many layers of attire made from materials you didn’t even know existed.

Your rage and hostility is pacified with curiosity, and that makes his smile a bit more genuine. He brings a hand to your head, and you’re ready to tear him to shreds should he try anything, but he only pets you gently. It reminds you of when the insects would nudge your head whenever they wanted you to wake up.

The sense of familiarity makes your eyes water but you do not shed the tears. You don’t like how they blind your sight and you blink rapidly to make them go away. The man clad in bright colors says something, but you once again can’t understand him.

But when the suffocating chains no longer cling to your tender skin, you understand that he is safe like those that cared for you and he is trying to comfort you. It works.

The man is named Aventurine — he repeated it constantly until you finally said it, albeit with the accent of a toddler. Still, he praised you. When he smiled and pat your head, you felt happy. It was a good thing.

You follow Aventurine around. He is the only one you have familiarized yourself with. He gets frightened by the swarm that follows you, so you scold them whenever they show themselves unannounced. You do not want him to leave you — you’ve noticed it happens a lot as you are exposed to human beings. He tells you he won’t leave you, how you’re his responsibility now.

You only understand a little bit of what he speaks, but you want to learn more to get more head pats and praise. The language they use is very foreign and requires much more effort to sound out the words as well as memorizing the symbols they write with. It is a lot of effort, but Aventurine is very encouraging.

Aventurine is nice. He is patient. He is understanding. He is helpful. You have been told that the one who has given you your strength was born from loneliness, but if that was the case, them shouldn’t your abilities be gone by now? Because with Aventurine, you do not feel lonely.

You want to tell him this, and one day you will. But for now, you’ll sit in his office, dressed in the nice clothing he has bought for you, and continue to practice your speech and writing.

You do not like leaving his office, because Qlipoth’s devout will then try to talk to you. You have tried many times to send your swarm after them, and you have succeeded many times, but Aventurine always scolds you. You do not like it when he scolds you. It’s a bad thing.

He tries to get you accustomed to human society. It is hard, especially because the human society he tries to make you interact with is filled with Qlipoth’s followers, but for him, you will try.

For him, you will listen to them as they order you to send your swarm to terrorize planets littered with precious material. For him, you will listen to them as blood stains your hands — blood which is not yours. For him, you will allow others to call you a monster which he reassures you that you aren’t.

For him, you will let yourself become the tool Qlipoth’s devout want you to become.

Something you have noticed and have been taught about human society is the concept that is family. You have heard the term many times, especially on this planet called Penacony. The main heads of this big hotel are called The Family. The head of The Family is the brother of his sister. You make sure to remember that.

Aventurine tells you to keep your features hidden as well as your little swarm bug which you brought with you, and you do not protest. The hotel is big, perfect for your insect friend to flutter about freely. Your hand clings to Aventurine’s coat, a habit you have picked up on. When you cling to him, people talk to him first. You don’t know why, but you do not care because it has yet to fail you.

You do not pay attention to the woman at the front desk. She speaks too fast for you to properly comprehend her words, anyways. You take note of the people around. There is nobody adorning the familiar uniform of Qlipoth’s followers, much to your relief. You tug on Aventurine’s coat, looking at him.

He hums, and looks at you while the woman looks the both of you up to check for the reservation. "Finish?" You ask quietly. "Almost. You can sit if you want," he replies, pinching your cheek playfully. You frown and shake your head.

"Alright, It seems you both have reservations. Here are the keys for your rooms. We hope you and your younger sibling enjoy your stay in penacony." The woman smiles and slides the cards on the counter. Aventurine thanks her and motions for you to follow, which you do without hesitance.

The walk is silent, and once the two of you are in the elevator, you decide to speak once more. "We are like Sunday and Robin."

Aventurine blinks at your declaration and turns so his body is facing you, leaning on the support bars of the elevator. "Is that a statement or a question?" He asks, but you don’t directly answer his question, only explaining your words.

"I am younger sibling, you are older sibling." It is then that Aventurine realizes you had paid attention to the woman’s words, or at least her send off ones. He didn’t think much of it, it wasn’t the first time people had assumed you both as siblings. Then again, you had yet to learn the concept of family and the various titles during those encounters.

Still, Aventurine smiles, chuckling lightly as the fuzzy feeling in his chest grows. "Yeah.. You’re the younger sibling, I’m older sibling." The elevator grows silent once more as you both wait for the doors to open.

He’ll need to finish those custody papers once this mission is over.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Ahem, yes it is I! So an idea literally bashed me in the face and I couldn't help but think 'Oh this is an interesting idea!' What if different versions Transformers have this crossover (Bayverse, T.F.P., T.F.A., GEN 1, Knightverse which is one of my favourites because of Charlie and Bumblebee or any other universes you're familiar with it) where T.F.P.'s groundbridge malfunctioned (probably Wheeljack and Bulkhead) The reader works in the T.F.P. universe Ratchet's assistant and they're his guardian on top of that. Of course, instead of sending them to a desired location the groundbridge ended up locating them in a different dimension... it was Bayverse's while the other dimensions were already there and T.F.P. just lands there last. Just complete and utter silence until Miko says something. You can tell how shit went downhill from there, but let's pretend no one dies for the sake of it all. My dearest reader and T.F.P. O.P. are dating but also not dating; they're just orbiting one another while being friends and T.F.P.'s O.P. is just content and not necessarily talkative but just sweet with the reader. Always carrying them around and so on. Of course, the other universes notice that. Jazz from Gen 1 is just smirking in that damn corner and all versions of Prowl wondering why is their lives are like this. It doesn't help that T.F.P.'s Ratchet has been tired of seeing these two idiots being in love and not doing shit about it. Obviously, the other O.P. versions caught on and the reactions... varied. Surprise, to utter.. confusion and curiosity to completely just wondering if there is a reader on their Earth. You can always add in anything you wish; I really love bantering amongst the others too! AND IRONHIDE'S REACTIONS TOO-

Multiverse to Bayverse  (Transformers Multiverse/ TMV)

Will probably edit it later for typos lol

(Bayverse, Animated, Prime, Earthspark, Gen 1)

Various! Optimus Primes X Reader

Ratchet noticed something was wrong with the groundbridge when it started growing a weird yellowish color. Before anyone could say anything, a wave covered all of them in golden light.

June, who walked in with popcorn, looked around the room in question. “Uh, guys?”

You all landed on the harsh ground, and heard a voice. Before you could hit the ground, Optimus caught you in his servos. 

We all looked up to see a large group of around twenty Cybertronians. There was complete silence in the room as everyone looked at eachother, when Miko chimes in. “Uh, why are there like five Optimus Primes? Raise of hands if you’re secretly another Optimus.”

Everyone gave her a deadpan look when you realized quickly that you were not in your Optimus’ servos. You looked up to see an almost cartoonish looking bot, smiling sheepishly down at you. 

“Uh, hi. I’m Optimus Prime, nice to meet you.” 

You squinted at him, and looked around the room. “Okay so I assume that this has to do with the groundbridge explosion- or I’m in a weird dream.”

The four Optimus Primes that were new to you looked at you in confusion. “Groundbridge?” Two chime in.

“Uh… yeah. A scaled down version of the space bridge. Ratchet engineered it to transport everyone anywhere on Earth- we couldn’t have anything as high-scale as a space bridge because we lack the energon for it.”

“Well why don’t you just use oil?” A voice sounds. 

You all look over to a green bot. “Bulkhead?” Arcee asked.

“Uh, yeah- how do you know my name?” 

Your Bulkhead made his way forward to inspect the other one. At the same time both Bulkheads showed their wrecking ball hand. “Woah! Twins!” Both of them said at the same time.

“Bulk, please never do that again,” Miko looked at them in joking fear. “You remind me of the twins from that one horror movie.”

“Aww come on Miko! It’s not everyday you meet, well, yourself!” Bulkhead grumbled. 

“Can we focus on the situation, please?” A gray mech asked. They looked strikingly like Megatron. The next second, almost everyone in the room had their guns trained on him.

He quickly backed up with his hands above his heads. One Optimus stood in front of him, hands up. “Woah, this Megatron is an autobot now! He’s alright.”

Everyone squinted or glared at him. Generation One’s Optimus didn’t back down. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but I know for certain that I’m not cool with Megatron being here.”

You turned to him, gaping. “Did you just say ‘cool’? What?” 

Jazz laughed aloud. “Yeah, that’s Op for ya! He just started learning Earth slang from Spike!”

“Alright, enough!” All of the Ratchets shouted at once. Everyone looked at them. A good eighty percent of the room burst into giggles or tried their best to stop that urge.

“Looks like no matter what dimension you go to, Ratchet’s always the same.” Wheeljack said. A chorus of varied agreements sounded through the room, making the renowned grouches grumble.

Soon enough, you all began figuring out how you were all there. It was pretty much the same for everyone- one way or another, a yellow light ran over them.

You all started constructing various groundbridges in hopes that it could somehow send you home. 

You often hung out with your Prime, making everyone else curious about your relationship. You could almost always be seen on his shoulder or in his servo. You almost never walked anywhere.

It was pretty obvious to everyone- except a few of the younger bots like animated Bumblebee and Knightverse Bumblebee.

Bayverse Prime (with his never ending confidence) was the first to approach you. “Hello, (Y/N). Would you like to go on a walk with me?” He held his hand out. You stepped onto his hand and sat down. 

As he made his way out of base, everyone watched you two. Primeverse Optimus couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest as you both walked out. He knew that he didn’t have a right to feel that way- you two weren’t even together. Not yet, at least. 

Everyone noticed the look on his face even though he himself didn’t.

All of the Ratchets had the same thought: ‘Primes (Derogatory)’. 

Optimus from the Animated universe was confused. He was normally pretty in tune with his emotions, and he doesn’t see why Prime Optimus doesn’t just ask you out. He’d been trying to subtly hint at that, but Prime Optimus was somehow oblivious. Animated Optimus also wondered if you existed in his universe- you were very charming and, he’s embarrassed to say, cute.

G1 Optimus teased your Optimus on the subject. He always mentioned how back in his day he was a spark breaker. Earthspark Optimus always tried to scold G1 Optimus for his behaviors, but then G1 Jazz would join in on the teasing so he’d have to chase both of them around.

Earthspark Optimus would comfort him, trying to encourage him gently to follow his spark. While he’ll never understand the attraction to a human, he believes that it’s not really his business. Even Earthspark Megatron gave fairly good advice to the other bot. 

Bayverse Ironhide sort of agreed with their advice- but also warned the Prime. “If you wait too long, they’ll find another. Make something of yourself, Prime!”

You both stopped at a pond and he sat down on the ground. He placed you gently next to him as he threw seeds into the water. You both watched as fish swam to the surface and bobbed up and down to try and snag a treat.

“Are you and my counterpart… together?” 

A flushed look covered your face as you snapped your head towards him. “Wh-n- I-” You covered your face with your hands. “No, we aren’t together.”

“Ah. I see.” Bayverse Optimus had a lot more experience with this sort of thing. “So you have feelings for him, then?”

Your face got impossibly warmer and simply nodded. “We haven’t been dating so to say… but we’re really close. I would just never have the guts to… you know.” 

Bayverse Optimus merely nodded at you and left you at the pond by yourself. When he got back into the base he and Ironhide grabbed the Prime by his arms and began dragging him off. The other Primes and Ratchets knew exactly what was going on and followed.

When they got into a more secluded room of the base, they set him down and pushed him into a chair. Primeverse Optimus was confused and a little anxious as the many bots surrounded him.

“When are you going to ask them out?” G1 Optimus teased. 

Primverse merely shook his head. “I don’t think that is a good idea at the moment. There’s a war go-”

“Oh stop being a fragging boltbrain!” Bayverse Ratchet yelled. 

“They have been waiting for you to ask them out for months now!” Primeverse Ratchet yelled. 

His eyes widened at that knowledge. “I don’t know.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll go ask the lil’ lady on a date then.” Jazz began to strut out of the room when Optimus shouted for him to stop.

“What should I say?” Primeverse Optimus questioned. 

“Alright, so here’s what you say.”

While you were at the pond,  a gathering of girls and femme bots surrounded you.

“So he still hasn’t asked you out yet?!” The Arcees were shocked.

“Yeah, you’d think he would have by now, right?” Their counterpart from Primeverse shook her head. “I think he’s just worried about the war.”

Miko threw her hands over her head. “So?! He needs to get the girl!” 

Your hands were holding your face yet again. Prowl gently laid a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, (Y/N). Good things come in time- and some bots,” he glared at everyone else, “Shouldn’t rush it.”

You smiled up at the ninjabot. “Thanks, Prowl.” 

He smiled back, though irritated at the situation. Some bots were so nosy and loud. They always had to get into everything and couldn’t leave well enough alone. 

Suddenly you were swept up by Jazz, who yelled out “Sorry, I’m borrowing the lil’ lady!” Prowl facepalmed as the girls cheered.

You and Optimus were shoved into a room together. The large bot offered a hand to you which you stepped onto. He raised you up to eye level.

“I” He paused to get his words together. “I have had feelings for you for a while. I know that we’ve been friends for a while, and just friends. I have no clue if you share the sa-”

“If you’re asking me out, the answer is yes.” You planted a shy kiss on his faceplate. The Prime’s cheeks grew a flushed blue. Suddenly confetti streamers fell on the two of you. You both looked up to see Miko, Animated Bee, and Sari in the rafters. A bucket fell on Optimus’ head which made the rafter bound group wince.

“Uh.. congrats?” Bumblebee quickly grabbed the other two kids and bolted. 

You and Optimus chuckled as he brought you up to his faceplate for another kiss.

ALTERNATIVE ENDING:

You and Optimus were shoved into a room together. The large bot offered a hand to you which you stepped onto. He raised you up to eye level. “I-” he paused to get his words together. “Well, my name is Optimus Prime, yo! The other primes are my friends, yo! Uh-huh, they told me everything.”

You looked up at Optimus in confusion, about to say something when he continued. 

“And I like you a lot, yo!” 

Outside the door, everyone looked at Jazz with glares. He just shrugged as a grin pulled at his face. "What? I’m sure it will work.”

[thirstnotes]

| Rivals to Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Nine - No Strings Clark |

Pairings: Clark Kent x AFABBlackPlusSizedReader

Warnings: jealous Clark, Clark Kent in love, language, dirty thoughts, typos, more smut eventually, minors DNI, morally gray Clark, a little angst, thirst, mutual pining, fake dating

Ya'll, I've been both busy and unmotivated. I'm so sorry this update took so long. But I hope ya'll enjoy it all the same!

If you don't like it, don't read it.

That night was too satisfying to be real

You were deliciously sore from being in positions you hadn't been in for months

Farm boy had some moves

Sorry

Superman*

You woke to the smell of breakfast. Bacon and coffee specifically. Your tummy rumbled as you rose, running the details of last night through your mind over and over. It was a simple equation, but you just couldn't comprehend it:

Clark wanted you.

+

Clark was Superman.

=

Superman wanted you.

It lingered in your mind as you took a quick shower. What even was this? Had Clark been making a statement, or was he just horny after all the kissing, touching and pretending at class yesterday? You didn't know what to think.

Even if he did have feelings for Lois, what happened last night was clearly an explosion of shared tension between you. It was an explosion of something.

The heavy feeling of irony hit you as you walked quietly up the hall and caught sight of him standing at the stove. It felt so domestic and normal. Which was the last thing you thought a morning with Superman would be.

He didn't look up, but his lips twitched into his usual smirk as he plated the rest of the food.

It was quite the spread

French toast sticks, pancakes, bacon, eggs, donuts from your favorite bakery

It was like he was trying his best to put his best foot forward

It was kind of odd to see him so eager to please someone other than Lois

It almost made you want to forget how annoyed you were with him for not telling you his secret sooner

almost

But you weren't sweating it too much

After all, you understood why

It didn't stop you from being annoyed

But you understood

"I didn't know what you might want, so I made a few options," he said with a shrug, eyes flickering between you and the table.

So cute.

You bit back a laugh, not wanting to seem rude.

"It's...a lot. But it's fine," you half-joked, reaching for a piece of bacon. He watched your reaction quietly, pleased when you hummed in approval and took another bite.

"Sleep well?"

"You tell me," you shot back, rolling your eyes, though your small smirk betraying you. You couldn't stop smiling and you knew he noticed.

"I'd say you did, but I think that'd be bragging to some degree, wouldn't it?" he sassed, pouring some orange juice and adding it to the table.

You laughed as you sat down, a hint of hoarseness in the sound also betraying your reaction.

"Maybe a lil bit. Where'd a nice dude like you learn to use your mouth like that anyway?" you asked, feeling an ache between your thighs at the mention of his mouth.

"The truth? Eating peaches," he laughed saucily, taking a bite of a bagel.

You couldn't help but cackle at that. "Seriously?"

"Mmh. Very similar," he hummed, taking a sip of juice. He paused, as though remembering something important, and dug something from his pocket. Your phone--correction--your cracked phone, was vibrating as he handed it to you.

"Oh shit, I totally forgot," you gasped, inspecting the damage, "Thanks."

Last night was such a blur, you'd forgotten you'd even dropped it

He must have gotten it after you'd fallen asleep.

"Someone's called you three times, back to back," he said, his eyes rolling back to his breakfast, "Gonna assume it's your boyfriend."

You felt your heart leap a bit. It was unclear if it was guilt or excitement. Maybe it was the way he said it. "He's not my boyfriend."

His eyes met yours again. "Does he know that?"

You couldn't confirm to be honest, but you didn’t want him to know that. "I'm pretty sure he does. We never agreed to a relationship."

"I'm no expert, but I think tickets to Prague is a pretty solid step in that direction," he said, sipping water this time. You gawked at him with an astonished laugh.

"Okay, Mr. Man of Steel. First of all. No more using your powers to spy on me."

"Noted," he said, arms folded, smirk still solidly in place. It wasn't a confirmation that he wasn't going to, but at least he knew it annoyed you. He watched you patiently for the next item on the list and you scrounged your brain to find it.

"Second. Bruce is not my boyfriend." He rolled his eyes at that, but you continued anyway. "Even if I do go to Prague with him."

"Whatever helps you sleep," he laughed again with a skeptical snort that irked you.

“I- You know what? Why am I even explaining this to you?!”

“Beats me,” he shrugged, getting up and rounding the table. His eyes held yours as he did so, and he seemed a lot like a predator stalking his prey.

You kinda liked it.

He loomed over you, propping his hands on the back of your chair and the edge of the table, dipping in just low enough to hover just beyond your lips. “Maybe you’re getting defensive because you feel like you’re cheating.”

You looked like a goldfish, trying to find your will to argue. At the last minute, as he pulled back with his irritatingly sexy smirk, you’d found it.

“I just-It’s not cheating if I’m not dating anybody.”

He hummed at that, rounding your chair and walking over to the tv to switch it off. "You don't have to convince me. I agree. In fact, I personally feel like the further you are away from that guy, the better.”

You had to wonder why he hated Bruce so much, but you decided against asking, since you probably weren’t going to get a straight answer anyway

Besides, your mind was more preoccupied with how sinful he looked in a simple tee and sweats

“But,” he continued, sitting back across from you, taking another generous sip of water, “I support whatever you wanna do. It’s your life. Whatever you two do is your business.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, glad he wasn’t trying to tell you who you could allow in your life. Because Superman or not, he would’ve caught it. Still, the aesthetic of Clark being jealous made your body simmer with a little bit of excitement.

“That said, whatever happens between us is our business, right?”

He looked at you expectantly and you had an eerie sense of deja vu from when he'd asked you to be his fake girlfriend in the first place.

"I guess."

A chill ran up your spine and your mind raced with many curious thoughts that fought to stay inside.

A few of which had to do with whether he was trying to fuck you purely to annoy Bruce

Or if he legit felt something for you

Then again, what if it were both?

What if Bruce was making him jealous?

In the incredibly slim chance that he liked you beyond being a fuck buddy

It was stressful not knowing

"You have a question," he said, matter-of-factly, eyes lowering to his breakfast again. He ignored the startled look you gave him in favor of another bite of eggs.

"What makes you say that?"

"I just know."

That was an odd thing to hear

But it made sense considering who you were talking to

He was probably used to that kind of thing

But the fact that he knew you so intimately and said as much so nonchalantly, was kind of strange

But also kind of hot

"Okay...Fine. You're right. I do," you said, now suddenly conscious of the occasional thud in your chest. His pretty blue eyes met yours again curiously and you nearly melted. It was your turn to look back to your breakfast, which you didn't really feel like finishing.

"So is this Lois thing a lie...or did you just change your mind?"

His eyes drifted off to the side as if trying to carefully word it. "I love Lois, yeah. I probably always will," he said and you felt your heart drop a little, hopes a bit dashed.

It wasn't anything new from what you'd thought in the first place

Still, it still stung to hear him say it aloud

Even if you were sitting across from him in nothing but his t-shirt

He continued, but your phone rattling on the surface of the table startled you. Clark's eyes rolled to the side as you checked it.

"Oh."

"Bruce again?"

He gave you a look before you could even ask how he knew that and you were pretty certain that "he just knew".

"Yeah, I just. Finish your thought?" you shrugged, really wanting to hear him out. He paused, taking a deep breath.

"I just really like you," he said, the lingering pause between you making you wonder if there was something more he wanted to say. The way it made him sound like an awkward dork afraid of rejection made you tingle inside. You bit back a laugh and rolled your eyes.

Quite a bit more flustered than you let on

It wasn't LOVE

You didn't have a hold on him like Lois did

But he liked you

You had your answer

For now that was enough

Both of your priorities were clear now

He was comfortable with you like you were with him

"I like you too, Clark," you admitted genuinely. It was a relief to say it directly to him even if it was the understatement of the year.

"What did he want, anyway? Bruce, I mean?" he asked and you were finally back on track with your thoughts.

"He's gonna be in town a few days longer and wanted to know if I wanted to hang out today," was all you supplied. Though you wondered how much more he knew.

A small smirk played at his lips and he sipped his juice. "You wanna take off soon?"

He did say "soon"

It wasn't as if he were hurrying you off or anything

Which was good because you weren't in any hurry to leave

"Actually...I was thinking I could hang out with you today," you said, not really fully knowing yourself where you were going with this.

The implication didn't go over his head either. Even if this was a convenient arrangement for the both of you, that didn't mean you couldn't both enjoy it. His smile grew.

"What'd you have in mind?"

(Part 10) (Part 8)

[towritecomicsonherarms]

How would you rate the fan voted outcomes to Marvel vs DC miniseries?

I answered this one many many moons ago (over 5 years ago). Haven't read this since then but i cannot see any of my opinions changing.

Copy and pasting what i put then.

===========================

I assume you mean the crossover comic from 1996

well

pasted from wiki

There were eleven battles fought between the two universes:

Aquaman (DC) vs. Namor (Marvel). Aquaman wins by summoning a whale to leap out of the water and land on Namor.  Since Namor is pinned and unable to move, he is declared the loser.

Elektra (Marvel) vs. Catwoman (DC). Elektra won by cutting off Catwoman’s whip as she hung from a girder on a building under construction, but Catwoman survived by falling into a dumpster filled with sand.

Flash (DC) vs. Quicksilver (Marvel). The Flash wins using superior speed.

Robin (DC) vs. Jubilee (Marvel). Robin won by using his cape as a decoy and then tying up Jubilee.

Silver Surfer (Marvel) vs. Green Lantern (DC). Silver Surfer won when both collided with each other and released a huge explosion which knocked out Green Lantern but left Silver Surfer unfazed.

Thor (Marvel) vs. Captain Marvel (DC). Thor won when Captain Marvel was forced to change back to his alter ego Billy. Billy tried to change back, but Thor used Mjolnir to intercept the lightning-bolt that would have transformed him back to normal, the resulting impact knocking Billy out and sending Thor’s hammer flying off.

Superman (DC) vs. Hulk (Marvel). After exchanging punches and a burst of heat-vision, Superman wins eventually.

Spider-Man (Marvel) vs. Superboy (DC). With the advantage of his spider-sense, Spider-Man wins by tying up Superboy with impact webbing and electrocuting him with high voltage.

Batman (DC) vs. Captain America (Marvel). The match ends in uncertainty—though both are evenly matched after hours of combat, a sudden flushing of the sewer knocks Cap off balance as Batman manages to strike him with a Batarang. Batman rescues Cap from certain death via drowning, but Cap’s unconsciousness from nearly drowning causes him to lose.

Wolverine (Marvel) vs. Lobo (DC). Wolverine beats Lobo in a brutal barfight which was largely off panel.

Storm (Marvel) vs. Wonder Woman (DC). After Diana drops Thor’s hammer in order to allow the fight to happen as it was intended, Storm wins the battle after repeatedly hitting Diana with her lightning after a brief melee encounter.

1 - Yeah. Why not. Both very evenly matched

2 - Why wasn’t Elektra fighting someone.. better? Or they should have had Black Cat fight Catwoman.

3 - This is 100% right.

4 - Most people could beat Jubilee. This is the correct result.

5 - Silver Surfer could trash the entire lantern corps by himself. Correct.

6 - This is the correct result but i would have also accepted the best Captain Marvel winning as it is plausible.

7  -Superman whipping Hulk silly is the 100% correct result.

8 - I believe this one was a fan vote. My boy Spidey should have lost this one. Easily.

9 - Batman is a superior fighter to Cap. Cap is a superior human to Batman. He can go beyond what a human is capable of. Should have been Cap.

10 - This was a fan vote. Lobo would eat Wolverine. That is not a typo.

11 - Another ridiculous fan vote. A bolt of lightning beats Wonder Woman. 100% pure nonsense. I love Storm. She’s so underrated and powerful but.. beating Wonder Woman with some lightning? Nope.

So in conclusion.

[supereffectivemoonblast]

The group leave Candlenut for Tamwah by bus. Tamwah is a small town that has a museumand not much else. A couple of the trainers stop in for a tour, learning about an ancient event called the Expansion Explosion, which caused mass deaths, but also a revitalisation of the landscape in the inner parts of Oster. Since Tamwah doesn't have any significant lodging, they catch the next bus out of town to find a hotel in Kaeraumu, the second biggest town in the state.

Kaeraumu is the northern most waterside city this side of Oster, so the party use this as an excuse for unique pokemon hunting, Stucko catches a Skiddo, Skarmory and Lucario, and evolves his Chikorita. Cole catches a Skarmory and an Oster Tarountula. Morris catches a Karrablast. Kendra catches a Popplio and an Emolga. Darryl catches an Oster Psyduck.

After making the most of our day, we find a place to stay, and at the bar we run into Jane, the daughter of Professor Wattle, getting very drunk (featured in the session art). They update her with their findings in Candlenut, and their findings with the different typed Pokémon (Typos). Kendra gets a room to themselves in order to try and promote some breeding between two of her Pokémon.

Early in the morning, Stucko wakes to find one of his Pokeballs shuddering, and releases his Poison type Grovyle. It is shaking and curled up sick on the floor. He gets Darryl, who has the Ice type Seedot, and they go call Professor Wattle. She assumes this must be a side effect of their types being changed, but would need a better look. They send over the Grovyle-P, the Seedot-I, and the Roggenrola-D, and hope that the professor knows what to do.

After sending the Typos through, they meet up with Jane Wattle for brunch and catch her up with all the recent drama. They decide their next course of action is to head north to the closest capital, Mandura City, where there is both a Tech Industries buidling (Tech Industries were related to the car crash in Candlenut), and a Galactic Corp. HQ (related to the initial Typo findings). They prepare for travel andd go to catch a train to Gawlong City.

[teklarn]

I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently. 

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘��� 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 

genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end

warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol,  second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(

word count: 2507

pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things. 

- - -

read part one here my loves !!

you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all. 

part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever. 

at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds. 

at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. 

“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?” 

your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?” 

he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated. 

“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding. 

“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.” 

“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.” 

“do you want to go back to the dorms?” 

you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.” 

midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up. 

“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—” 

“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance. 

you gulped. “yeah, there’s—” 

“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”

your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough. 

- 

the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears. 

each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him? 

it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue. 

you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him. 

you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name. 

“y/n?” 

you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?” 

“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?” 

your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.” 

“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise. 

yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?” 

you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.” 

- 

it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it. 

you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out. 

most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it. 

surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together. 

unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side. 

in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.) 

you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three. 

“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned. 

your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.” 

“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.” 

you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.” 

you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him. 

“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away. 

“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles. 

you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.” 

he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight. 

“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume. 

midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—” 

“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.” 

“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself. 

“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked. 

“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another. 

you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen. 

a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground. 

izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”

you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.” 

you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.” 

“bu—” 

“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.” 

midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand. 

attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting. 

cement flew into the air. 

that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots. 

in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder. 

bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest. 

you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya. 

while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park. 

you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question. 

twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement. 

it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost. 

your head whipped around to see him charging for you. 

your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore. 

bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right? 

when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain. 

bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions. 

he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering. 

it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up. 

“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling. 

“y/n! are you alright?” 

you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”

“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.” 

“do you need—” 

you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst. 

although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg. 

you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.

you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly. 

there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away. 

she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?” 

you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.” 

the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down. 

she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?” 

you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.” 

“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.” 

“mhm,” you agreed. 

“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.” 

you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you. 

when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?” 

“yes, thank you recovery girl.” 

she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.

your eyes fluttered shut not long after that. 

- 

the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off. 

“good, you’re awake.” 

you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!” 

bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage. 

“what...what do you want?” 

even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.” 

your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.” 

“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.” 

heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-” 

“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.” 

“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused. 

“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone. 

“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.” 

“the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?” 

bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.” 

you gulped. 

“so what’re you saying?” 

“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.” 

“say it again.” 

“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours. 

“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.” 

it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out. 

“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.” 

he grinned. “where to?”

[aellynera]

Quite the Pickle (Llewyn Davis x gn!Reader)

QUITE THE PICKLE

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, @alwritey-aphrodite​ !! Tis I, your holiday elf and I humbly present this story to you. It was a pleasure writing for you and I hope you enjoy it and all your days in the coming year and merry and bright!! 💜🎄❄💜 (And also special thanks to @iflostreturntobudcooper​ for hosting another exchange. You rock, Clarke!)

Word Count: ~2800

Summary: You’re trying to make the holidays nice for Llewyn, and then he gets a wholly unexpected request from you.

Warnings: None in particular. GN Reader (I’m almost 100% sure, there are no pronouns or specific descriptions or anything), maybe some naughty words, a bit of sexual innuendo, but mostly just holiday fluff. I think I got all my typos but you never know.

It’s a full week before Christmas, and for once, all your decorating is done. You almost can’t believe it; you’re used to last minute panic. Usually you have so much work, and maybe some sleep and more work, until you realize it’s two days before, haul out your fake tree, and hastily throw some decorations up. You pretend the bits of glitter and tinsel that hitchhike around your apartment are intentional.

But not this year. This year, there’s no panic.

You’re in a new apartment, and somehow it’s more important to decorate properly. A nativity scene is perfectly arranged on the end table next to the couch, Holiday-appropriate candles and fake holly sprigs grace the coffee table and sparkly snowflakes hang in the window. You’ve even put mistletoe on the front door jamb, and even hung two stockings.

And the tree, the tree holds court from the corner, hundreds of twinkling lights embraced in its poky green branches, the scent of pine wafting around the room, the ornaments placed just so.

It’s perfect. It’s a veritable winter wonderland.

Llewyn told you to go wild, do whatever made your Grinchy little heart happy, then deftly dodged the marshmallow that sailed at his head. It’s your apartment, he said, you can do whatever you want. You only sort of teasingly told him that maybe he wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in the middle of a tinsel factory explosion, but he told you if he was, he’d sleep in the bathtub. It earned him another marshmallow.

But deep down, you wanted to make it good for him in particular. You knew - well, thought, it’s not like you’d really asked him or he told you outright - that he hadn’t had a traditional kind of Christmas in quite some time, and you just wanted to make it nice.

Llewyn deserves nice things.

Now, standing back, looking at your handiwork, you feel proud. Proud, accomplished, and pleased.

But just as soon as the Christmas cheer sets it, it evaporates. The panic you swore wouldn’t happen this year crawls up your spine. You almost forgot. How could you forget?

You look at the clock and mumble a curse under your breath. Llewyn won’t be home for hours, and this can’t wait.

Phone in hand, you dial and lean back on the couch, drawing a long sip of wine.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The only reason Llewyn agreed to go to his sister’s house today is the lasagna. Well, maybe not the entire reason. More like a good ninety-eight percent of the reason. As much as he loves his nephew, there really isn’t an actual reason for him to sit through a middle-school holiday pageant, full of off-key carols and cheesy homemade costumes

But then Joy said the magic word, and he was helpless to resist. The call of meat and noodles and sauce was too powerful.

It also didn’t help that you’d overheard the whole conversation (Joy isn’t exactly a quiet type) and then begged Llewyn to bring back leftovers. He told you that you were bold to assume there would be any leftovers. You reached for the bag of marshmallows and raised an eyebrow, and if there was anything else in the world that Llewyn Davis was powerless to resist, it was you, especially when you made that face.

Like when you’d asked how he wanted to decorate the apartment for the holidays. He didn’t have an opinion, honestly. It didn’t even bother him if there wasn’t a tree. But the look on your face, the excitement and anticipation, and that cute little bounce you were doing on the balls of your feet…

Not that he might have a tiny little crush on you. You’re just being nice, letting him basically live with you so he doesn’t have to couch-surf the entire five boroughs.

So of course he finds himself in the middle of Queens, in his sister’s narrow kitchen, stuffed full of pasta and cheese and desperately trying to get the fifth-grade rendition of “Frosty the Snowman” out of his head.

He takes another sip of coffee. Joy is prattling on about something about the pageant, about Danny’s other upcoming school events, but he’s tuned her out in favor of watching the tiny white flakes that have started falling from the sky.

Joy stands at the sink, scrubbing the lasagna pan. “Anyway, I’m just saying, I think it would be good if you came to more of Danny’s things. We don’t get to spend enough time with you as it is-” Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she reaches for the receiver.

A few moments pass, Llewyn so focused on how the tiny flakes swirl and dance through the flat gray sky, that he jumps a bit in surprise when Joy thrusts the receiver at him. “It’s for you.”

Llewyn’s face scrunches in confusion for a second, but he realizes there’s only one person it could be. One person that knows he’s here. He takes both the receiver and another sip of coffee.

“Where’s the fire?” he asks, a small smile in his voice, taking another, larger sip from the mug.

“I need you to come hide the pickle!” your voice bursts from the other end of the line, and all the coffee bursts from Llewyn’s nose and mouth, covering both him and the kitchen table..

Joy’s screeching and mopping up the mess with the dish towel, and Llewyn presses the receiver to his ear a little harder in an attempt to hear you more clearly.

Because he’s pretty sure he’s not hearing you clearly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The pickle!” you cry, sounding pretty desperate. “I need you to hide the pickle.”

Still coughing and sputtering as the remnants of the coffee burn his nostrils, he pulls the phone away from his ear and just stares at it for a second. Okay, so maybe he did hear you right.

“I’m sorry, is that…is that a euphemism?” he manages to croak out.

The disbelief in your own voice is not lost on him, but it’s not like he has any idea what’s going on right now. “What? A euph- no! Can you just come home, please? Pleeeeeease, Llewyn?”

If there’s a third thing in the world that Llewyn Davis is completely incapable of resisting, it’s the way you say“please” when you really, truly want something, and the little pout he knows is on your face while you do it.

He still doesn’t have the first clue what you’re talking about. He wants to ask a lot of questions, but the pleading tone in your voice makes him hold back. Honestly, he’s afraid that you might say something about hiding pickles again, and he’s not sure he’s equipped to handle that.

Making a lame excuse to Joy, her continued griping following him behind the now-closed front door, he finds himself back on the subway back to the Village, a Tupperware container in hand and a thousand scenarios in his head.

~*~*~*~*~*~

You’re pacing. You keep telling yourself to stop, sit down, and relax, but it’s just not working. The snow has started falling harder, and you’re growing more nervous by the second as you wait for Llewyn to get home. You know some of the subway line from the Village to his sister’s house actually runs above ground. So it’s probably making travel a little slow.

The thought doesn’t make you feel any better. Maybe pacing in the other direction will help.

It doesn’t.

Finally, finally, you hear the key scratch in the lock. Llewyn’s barely taken a step inside the apartment before you’re launching yourself and him and burying your face in his shoulder.

The force of your impact makes him take a step back, then he carefully wraps an arm around your back and looks around the room. Nothing seems to be wrong, but with the way you’re currently clinging to him (which is not at all distracting), he can’t be entirely sure.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Thank god you’re home,” You mumble into him. “I was starting to panic.”

“Oookay?” he says. He taps you on the head with the Tupperware. “I brought you lasagna.”

You pull back, looking at him with slightly shiny eyes and a wavering smile. “Um, thanks.”

Llewyn points up, remembering what he’d noticed on the way out the door earlier that day. “And there’s mistletoe.”

“There’s…” you look up. “Oh. Yeah. We can deal with that later.” You grab the leftovers and throw them in the fridge, his confused look following behind you. “Pickle first.”

“Honey, I’m…a little confused on this pickle thing? What pickle? What are you even talking about?”

Your brain tries to not get stuck on the term of endearment. You turn around with a small glass ornament, in the shape of a pickle, hanging from your index finger. “The Christmas Pickle.”

Llewyn blinks. “Oh, of course. The Christmas Pickle. How silly of me.” He takes off his coat and scarf and shakes out the snow, then turns back to you, running a hand through his slightly damp curls and down his neck. “Sweetheart, what the hell is a Christmas Pickle?”

So you sigh and flop down on the couch and start to explain. “It’s this…thing. It’s a Christmas tradition and no one really knows exactly how it started, but my family always did it. Well, my grandmother always did it for us grandkids. You hide the pickle in the tree, and whoever finds it first on Christmas morning gets good luck for the rest of the year, and sometimes a little extra present.”

Llewyn’s lips quirk up. “Ah. So that’s what hiding the pickle meant.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “What did you think it meant? You know what, never mind. Don’t answer that.”

Llewyn just shrugs.

“Anyway,” you continue as sternly as you can muster, “this was the pickle from her tree. It’s been a few years since we did the pickle thing, and I really want to do it again. I miss her, I miss the traditions we had. But I can’t hide the pickle myself!”

He tries to keep the laugh inside, but it comes out as a snort. Your venomous look puts him in check for approximately ten seconds before he has to let it out  “I’m sorry,” he pants through a chuckle, “but is there…i mean, do you really have to keep saying…”

“I really hate you sometimes, Llewyn Davis.”

“No you don’t,” he grins.

Despite your best efforts, you grin back. Just a tiny bit. “No, I don’t.”

He leans back against the door jamb. “So, uh…why couldn’t you just ask Mrs. Peterson to do it? You know she’s always home.”

Your head shakes vigorously. “It has to be someone close to you, someone who you…um, like a family member. And you’re my family here. And it also has to be done the same time the other ornaments go on the tree, or it doesn’t count, and I just put them on today, so…” you finish quickly.

Llewyn knows how much your family traditions mean to you (you’ve shared stories, in the middle of the night over cups of tea and coffee, when neither of you could sleep), so he sticks out his hand.

“Nothing would please me more than hiding your pickle.”

The squeal that leaves your lips is some kind of decibel he’s not sure he’s ever experienced, and you throw your arms around him again. Before you know what you’re doing, your lips are pressed to his and you kiss him with all your worth.

And before he can really register what’s happening, he kisses you back.

You break apart a few minutes later, both of you breathless and warm and panting slightly. You clear your throat and step back, pointing up above your heads. “Mistletoe.”

Llewyn gives you a sly smile and sticks out his hand again. “Mmhmm.”

You hand him the pickle, turn around, and close your eyes. There’s some rustling in the branches and after a few minutes, there’s a tap on your shoulder. “Okay, done,” Llewyn announces.

You offer him a shy but bright smile. “Thank you.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but before he can, you duck out of the room. You’re not sure what just happened, but the air in the room feels different. You busy yourself with other things, trying your best to blame it all on the mistletoe.

~*~*~*~*~*~

You kissed him.

Llewyn hasn’t seen you much the past week, the holidays making work go crazy for you, and he’s picked up a couple extra gigs, but one thought kept popping into his mind whenever he had a minute to think.

You kissed him. And he’s pretty sure it wasn’t just the mistletoe.

Christmas morning rolls around and some small gifts are exchanged (you’d gotten him new gloves, which warmed his heart even more than he knew they would warm his hands), and now the coffee is made. He comes back into the room, prepared to hand you a mug, but he’s greeted with the lower half of your body sticking out of the tree, your top half obscured by pine needles and tinsel.

As your rear wiggles a little, he ponders his next move. There’s been…something going on between you two, for longer than he’s even realized. Too long, if he’s being honest. Late night talks, you giving him a key, leftovers from Joy’s (no one ever gets to take home leftovers from his sister’s house, not even him.) Even if you haven’t talked about it, that kiss under the mistletoe mid-pickle-crisis meant something. He decides to take a chance.

“Well, Merry Christmas to me,” he says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

The top tree branches wobble precariously as your whole body emerges. Your head whips around towards him and the smile that blooms across your cheeks is blinding.

“Found it!” you cry, victorious, holding up the pickle so he can see it.

Llewyn grins back, sitting on the couch and taking a sip of coffee. “So what was it again, that you get when you find it?”

“A year of good luck, or an extra gift.”

Llewyn nods slowly. “Right. I…I think maybe I could…give you both of those things?”

“Llewyn,” you sigh, “we said no gifts, and then we went and got each other gifts anyway. You can’t give me another gift! It’s too much!” You sit next to him and accept the proffered cup of caffeine.

“Well, I mean, I didn’t buy you anything else, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He bumps you with his shoulder and  glances at you over the mug.

Your nose wrinkles in confusion. And then you notice that he’s holding up the mistletoe that was previously hanging above your front door.

“Oh.” Your eyes are wide as saucers.

“Oh,” he echoes, soft as a whisper.

Llewyn sets the coffee mug on the table and slowly, ever so slowly, raises his hand to cup your cheek. You lean into the touch and close your eyes, but you can still feel the smile that crosses his lips seconds before he presses them to yours.

It could be minutes or hours, or even days at this point, you’re not sure how long you sit there on the couch, lost in the feel of each other, pouring months of barely-disguised longing into each gentle kiss, but you finally need to pull apart to take a breath.

You rest your forehead on his. “Best gift.”

He hums quietly in response. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done…for everything you do, really. I can’t tell you the last time I had such a nice Christmas.”

“I can’t tell you how badly I’ve wanted to do that again since last week,” you admit with a shy grin. “But thank you, too, for putting up with my crazy pickle deal.”

Llewyn pulls back, just slightly, to look in your eyes. “I’d do anything for you. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Llewyn.”

He kisses you softly one more time, then pulls you in close to his side. Your head rests on his shoulder. You’re both quiet for a while, just soaking in the peace and the atmosphere and the feeling of joy that runs through your veins, even more warming than the coffee you’re drinking.

You feel Llewyn’s chest rumble slightly a second before he speaks. “If you can’t tell me how badly you wanted to kiss me again, you wanna show me?”

Your shoulders shake with him and you look up at him with a look of mock consideration. “Mmm, I think that could be arranged.”

“Would it help if I told you I’m willing to hide the pickle anytime you want?” The corners of his lips pull up every so slightly.

You arch a brow. “Lllewyn Davis, is that a euphemism?”

He slowly shakes his head as his grin widens. “No.” 

Your giggles erupt as you smack him with a snowman throw pillow. Hey, all the marshmallows are in the kitchen.

Llewyn’s laugh blends with yours as you push him back on the couch and show him exactly how much you’ve wanted to kiss him, and he’s pretty sure he’s never liked pickles as much as he does at this very moment. 

~the end~

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[stellar-imagines]

HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝S/O with teleporting quirk.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shouta ]

「Headcanons of Midoriya, Bakugou, and Aizawa with S/O who has a teleporting quirk.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU

♤ Nerd boy regrets not having his book with him during training because he was so amazed with your abilities. Midoriya was watching you intensely. Even as you trained, you could feel that you were being watched very closely. It made you kind of nervous. He looked like he has to absorb as much as he could, and learn from you. How do you move your body? How do you take breaths? He seemed determined to learn all of that from watching you. Eventually, you tell him that he could just ask you directly instead of sneaking around and stalking you.

♤ Midoriya here is probably how you manage to get to know all your weaknesses. He is one curious boy and has a lot of questions that you never actually thought about. He asked how if there was a limit to how much you could carry. And he tested a few theories. First, he assumed it was amount then he assumed it was based on weight, turns out it was the latter. He makes a lot of assumptions and has you testing out a few things out of curiosity. You have brought him to the top of a building to show off your training results, teleporting short distances and slowly making your way down. Let's say, he was scared stiff.

♤ He's always looking into different methods on how he could improve his quirk. With you, he could train his reflexes. You would use your quirk to teleport a few objects at him and he would use try to catch them. Sometimes it was hand to hand combat with no quirks involved. But he loves watching your use your quirk, it reminds him of how much of an amazing person you are. Of course, its not only because of your quirk that he thought you were amazing. You were a strong individual, capable of defending yourself and protecting others.

♤ Please don’t surprise him too much because he has a weak heart. He screams when you spook him and it attracts a lot of attention, you find it funny at times but sometimes you feel bad especially when you surprise him while he’s holding a few things in hand. He claims that he gets used to it but he still lets out those adorable squeaks when you show up in his room all of a sudden. Sometimes you give him a heads up, telling him that you’re coming over in a second but he can't help but jump a bit at your sudden appearance.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

☆ Being able to teleport yourself and anything in possession a certain distance in the blink of an eye was a very strong quirk. That was what Bakugou thought. Not only were you able to teleport yourself and objects that you touch but you can change their resulting orientation. In addition to that, you could teleport objects inside designated targets. The main reason you passed the entrance exam was by flipping over robots and teleporting rubble into the robot which resulted in explosions and malfunctioning.

☆ This guy underestimates you at first, assuming that you would be using your quirk to avoid combat as much as possible but was taken by surprise during your first fight against each other. You had teleported right behind him, grabbing his arms and quickly subduing him. Let's say, you broke the world record to 'How fast you can take Bakugou Katsuki down'. He demands a rematch and you two build an interesting dynamic and relationship from there. It started with training sessions which slowly developed into hangouts.

☆ Bakugou has a hard time dealing with you. You had great control of your quirk and you barely have any weaknesses. Of course, there's a limit to how fast you can teleport. There's a one-second lag when consecutively using her power in fights leaving you vulnerable in that one-second interval before teleporting again. Even so, it's hard to get the timing right to land a hit. But he's a great observer and instead of thinking about your quirk's weaknesses, he took advantage of your habits to win against you.

☆ This guy absolutely hates it when you use your quirk to surprise him. It's very effective and never fails to catch him by surprise since you basically disappear and reappear. You often use this to pull pranks and when you're really lazy. He has to admit that it's a very convenient quirk to have. He remembered that one time you both went grocery shopping and just had too much to carry home. When the dorms were within your range, you instantly used your quirk to teleport back inside.

AIZAWA SHOUTA

♡ Never really cares that much about what kind of quirk you would have. It's because there's more than quirks to a person anyway. But he can't deny that he thinks that your quirk was a really cool one. Being able to move from one place to another with ease? He would want to have a quirk like that because it will make his life so much easier. Aizawa is a lazy person and he would use your quirk for pointless tasks that can be done without your quirk.

♡ If you're a hero, he would be kind of worried to be honest. Despite having such a powerful quirk, you weren't that strong and you're taken by surprise, you would be very vulnerable. But with you on the heroes' side, the rescue has never been much easier. Even though you were not the power type, all you had to do is touch the person to be able to activate your quirk. Of course, you had your limits and were only able to carry around 200kg of things or people using your quirk. Even so, it was a very convenient quirk that has saved his ass countless of times.

♡ He doesn't really react that much when he's surprised. Unlike most people who would jump, yelp or maybe scream in surprise, Aizawa would probably just flinch. You had surprised him a couple of times, dropping by his apartment unannounced. He never really minded and he eventually got used to your suddenly coming by without giving him a heads up. The only time you shouldn't be surprising him is when he's sleeping because this man values his sleep okay? Have you seen him? He looks like he hasn't slept in a month so let the man sleep as much as he can. Aizawa is going to be in a bad mood for an entire day if you surprise him while he's sleeping which abruptly wakes him up from his precious sleep.

♡  You bet that he's gonna make you use your quirk for something really ridiculous. You remembered that you were standing in the kitchen, making his coffee. Aizawa was busy grading papers and most of it was scattered around the couch and on the floor. He asked if you could bring it to him which resulted in you using your quirk to do it for you. Over time, he would request the most ridiculous things, like removing his clothes because he's just too damn lazy to even lift his arms. Most of the time, he's just messing around with you but its hard to tell when he's saying it all with a straight face.

Total: 1226 words Published: 20.09.2020

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Ah~Kuroko, our beloved comedic relief in the Railgun series. She really has a very interesting ability that I would want. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Teleporting is definitely a quirk/ability I would want to have in real life. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[ksuew]

The Rookie 4x01 Life and Death Recap ****Spoiler city****

I promised a friend a recap, since she can’t watch until tomorrow, so I figured I might as well post it for anyone who wants to see it? I never can figure out a read more break on mobile so fair warning, DON’T LOOK IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS 😁

This is just a rough draft thing, so it’s probably full of typos.

@hamburgerheroes @piratesbooty63fan

Phew… crazy first episode. Unfortunately I was fielding calls and texts about a work issue the whole time so my viewing was very disjointed. So I’m rewatching as I type this recap for you.

The episode is preceded with a recap, of course. Then the opening scene is Chen, Bradford, Nolan, and Harper in tactical gear approaching a warehouse.

While waiting for the go order from Grey, grey has flashbacks of a few hours earlier. They realize Lopez and West are both missing, they find out La Fiera has escaped and assume she took them, then they get security footage of the kidnapping and are watching it at the station, still in their wedding attire. As we suspected. The footage shows Lopez being put in a vehicle and West struggling, then shot in the back, then stuffed into the trunk. Everyone is in shock, Lucy is crying.

Lots of fans are really upset about Jackson, and I get it. But the show runner and writers had no choice. Here’s excerpts from an interview with Alexi

At this point, we’re back to Grey a different officer wants to wait, but Grey says it’s been 3 hours and they need to move fast and orders them in.

They breach the warehouse, find an empty get away car and Angela’s wedding dress on the floor. Lucy moves to pick it up, Nolan stops her, there is a trip wire to explosives under the SUV. They leave the warehouse and realize they had a plane waiting there from the tracks it left.

Next we see La Fiera, Angela, and her female goon in the airplane. Angela assumes they’re going to Guatemala so she can torture and kill her slowly, but La Fiera tells her (as we suspected) that she’ll be kept alive until Angela safely delivers her (La Fiera’s) baby (of course)

Next Grey and Wesley are meeting with a DEA bigwig who essentially says, we ain’t helping. Next they arrive in the compound in Guatemala and talk about how impenetrable it is, etc. She meets the doctor who will be attending her. Angela tries to tell the doctor not to touch her and La Fiera says if she resists she will be sedated for the rest of the pregnancy.

Back at the station Lucy is talking with Nolan, beating herself up about not seeing the trip wire. She’s really just upset about Jackson, she says she can’t believe he’s gone and she and Nolan hold hand for a moment.

Tim and Harper join them and discuss if Lopez is still alive and why. Lucy comes up with the theory that La Fiera wants Angela’s baby as the ultimate revenge. Grey tells them the DEA won’t help. They talk about how Jackson scratched his killer and they’re running DNA. Grey tells them all to go home and get some rest while they work on a plan. ***Chenford alert***

Lucy says she can’t go home and see Jackson’s empty room. Tim says, “you don’t have to, you can stay with me”

Dying!

She says she doesn’t want to impose and this is where he says she shouldn’t be alone right now. She says thanks, he says yeah, then she wonders how Wesley is holding up.

Cut to Wesley meeting with some bad guy and offering to turn dirty lawyer in exchange for finding out where Angela is. I do not like this development and what it can/will do to them in the future.

Cut to a short, weird interaction with Lopez and the female bodyguard then, back to Chenford.

We see Tim in his jammies, setting up his couch to sleep on. The house looks different than I remember it and surely it has at least 2 bedrooms, so why the couch 🤷🏻‍♀️. Anyway. He looks adorable in his jammies. He says, “I’ll take the couch”. Lucy walks out of presumably his bedroom and says she thought he was setting up the couch for her. He says he’s not going to have a guest sleep on the couch and she says she’s not going to kick him out of his bed. He says okay, gets up. Looks a bit awkward, a bit nervous. Asks her if she needs anything. She says “the last 24 hours back”, he says he doesn’t have that power. She says, “a hug” and he says, “yeah. Come here” in a soft voice that nearly made me combust! He hugs her. As they go to part things get all UST, he croaks out “night”, can’t quite meet her eyes. Meanwhile she’s definitely got the “realization” light bulb starting to go off slowly. Still a bit confused. He goes to his room and flops into bed. Obviously affected by what just happened. she is the same out on the couch. Fidgety with nervous energy. He looks toward the door like he’s about to go back out there to her, say something more (do something more?) she looks toward his door from the couch, obviously contemplating same. Back to him purposefully looking away from the door, back to her making her decision. She’s pushing the covers off about to go to his door, when his door suddenly opens. He’s on the phone saying “yeah, okay, we’ll be right there”. She tries to pretend she wasn’t already up and moving toward the door. He says Wesley knows where Angela is and they head into the station.

Oh man, it was sooo gooood!!!

Next it’s the Wesley telling them that he knows where they’re holding Angela. They all say they want to help, but Grey says how’re we gonna do that . They bring up “Max” the covert government guy from the counterfeit money case. Grey says fine, reach out. He tasks Tim, Harper, and John to start tactical plan and says Lucy will stay with him to run the murder case. Then he takes a moment to congratulate Nolan on officially becoming a P2. They get the DNA back, the killer is a 17 year old kid.

Government guy shows up at Nolan’s they coerce him into helping. They go to Guatemala separately from Wesley who is supposed to get a meeting with La Fiera without getting killed. Nyla and Tim look hot playing with military surveillance toys while John steals the plans to La Fiera’s compound from the architect.

Lucy and Grey go after the killer. Grey has a really great scene after cornering the killer and he and Lucy take him in.

Back at the compound Wesley gets to see Angela. John tells Nyla and Tim that he has the plans and there’s a weakness, but the drone shows that the weakness has been fixed so they have to go to plan B. Nyla does not like plan B!

Cut to a very sad scene of Lucy finally going home and looking at Jackson’s room as he left it. Tim calls, says they’re going to plan B. Lucy, as well, does not like plan B. She says to give her a minute to get set up. Tim then radios government guy Max, who also does not like plan B. They decide on a different extraction point and he reminds them if they aren’t there at the agreed upon time they will be left behind.

They alert Wesley with fireworks. Turns out plan B is him injecting Angela with pitocin to start contractions so that they’ll have to transport her out of the compound to the hospital. Nyla will have a drug to counterreact the pitocin at the hospital.

Unfortunately, they separate Angela and Wesley. He’s put in a different car to take him away and kill him so Nolan goes after Wesley while Tim and Nyla get set up at the hospital. Lucy is tapped into a satellite giving them info on the vehicles, etc. Tim says, thanks, we got it from here”. Lucy says, “Tim”, the tension clear in her voice. “Please be careful”. With more significance than just one officer to another. He’s in business mode and replies, “I always am”.

Bradford and Harper ambush LaFiera et al. Angela gets into the hospital with Tim and Nyla and gives Angela the reversal shot. As they make their escape to the helicopter LaFiera follows and fires on them, grazing Angela’s leg, she turns and shoots La Fiera, killing her. They make it to the chopper, tell Max they need to get Wesley and Nolan, he says no, they all point their guns at him and he decides to make the stop.

Wesley and Nolan fight their two bad guys (Nolan simply must save the day in each episode). They make it to the chopper, everyone is safe and they get the hell out of dodge.

Then, the time jump. It’s 3 months later and Angela and Wesley are arriving home from the hospital with their son to a surprise welcome home party with Grey, Nolan, Harper, and Chen. They’ve stocked their freezer and bought them a second freezer and stocked that too. Tim is happy and relaxed. Lucy is a bit overly cheerful, it’s obviously a bit forced. She and Nyla present Angela with a basket full of teas and herbs and cookies tailored to uterine health and breast milk production (as she would). Nyla admits that it was all Lucy when she walks away. That it was good for Lucy to concentrate on something positive. This makes Angela turn a bit sad and reflective. The show ends with Angela holding her baby and standing at Jackson’s grave updating him on her life and how she misses him and hopes by the time her leave is over that she’ll be able to face the station without him in it. She then reveals (again, as we suspected) that her baby’s name is Jackson😢

[silvanable]

Overblot Theory (pt1?)

okay okay all my twst darlings, i bring forward a theory. and please bear with me because this is written in the middle of the night-morning & i am thriving on sleep drugs that aren’t doing their job, so there’s likely a million typos and half of it or more might sound like drunk rambling the irony of never being drunk lol.

also i’m tagging now that this contains spoilers i guess? i haven’t finished chapter 5 ( i’m still fairly early in ) yet but i’m literally going to be talking about everything i’ve seen thus far regarding overblot and those effected by it.

aNYWAYS—

so we all know how overblot works right? nasty emotional build up, using too much magic, and then sNAP!

that’s great and dandy, it seems like a build up that gets to a tipping point and suddenly that last drop cracks the glass and everything comes flooding out— right?

but what if overblot isn’t actually that flood point where they turn? what if the overblot is the whole process, not when they are consumed by the negative energies and black magic that force such a violent change on them?

so in every chapter thus far, there is always a few scenes were were see the ink dripping. gradually as we progress through the chapters, we watch as the character begins to spiral and is consumed by negative emotions. each time we see the ink, it splotches more and more, growing and forming a larger puddle each time.

BUT— each case is slightly different from the others, despite having the same trends with each dorm and the inevitable overblot, each character has a different way of reaching that.

so we have the general order everyone overblots for plot purposes, but in my opinion the fact riddle didn’t overblot sooner was fucking astounding. we’re shown how liberally he used his magic and the super strict and toxic mindset he had which was forced on him since childhood. then after each scene we saw of the ink pooling, riddle would gradually become worse in the chapter, until the moment he snapped and became a homicidal maniac.

leona was similar, except instead of him using his magic, he was consumed by his own emotions more and more. it was his hatred from his brother, his family, and his home that started it. then the issue of being second still in nrc to someone like malleus. many reasons to why leona is a lazy ass but i love him still oof but because he kept these things contained, letting it boil and seep into him, it made these things so much worse than they should have been. so ultimately when his plan fails, after trying so hard and becoming so desperate, there’s a surge and he transforms.

azul goes down a combined path, he uses his magic constantly, even with a buffer like a contract and his crystal, and is consumed by his own self loathing and emotions that send him spiraling. the final straw is the moment when his contracts are stolen and disintegrated by leona. but it was already shown throughout chapter 3 that azul has a moment of breaking, despite his composure, was spiraling the moment yuu started poking around. and being outsmarted did nothing for his barely existing pride to begin with.

jamil, out of all of them, but far hurt me the most because all of his sly tactics and underhanded tricks were really because he was trying to fight so he could be himself. fully heartedly believe if grim and yuu never showed up, he would have never overblotted. granted what jamil does is a big dick move but his entire life he’s been repressed and he has no freedom to himself what so ever— essentially he was forced to be an adult since he was a child and lemme tell you that ain’t fun. the one thing i consider a key part here is not the fact his emotions got the better of him in the end, but the fact he used his unique magic on the entire fucking scarabia dorm.

as for vil, granted i don’t know much, but pride and especially vanity will no doubt play a lot into his overblot all because of his rival neige. he’s already a very strict and disciplined character who holds himself very high and strives for nothing less than perfection... so we all know how that ends.

each one of them showed similar tendencies. all of them have some sort of inferiority complex, repressed emotions, and magic is always involved in small or excessive quantities. what i think is going on is not that suddenly they are overwhelmed— no, the overblot starts before anyone notices. that’s what the ink represents.

let’s assume that everyone, no matter what, always has blot, regardless if their magic crystals are ‘clean’ and ‘clear’. after all, the crystals are supposed to be an extra barrier between the user and magical backlash, but emotions have to play a part in this too. so while the crystals protect from magic blot, emotional is different... they just kind of soak that disgusting ink right up and channels all their magic right through it and the crystals only soak up so much of it.

so everyone has some blot? great. but what’s the point of this? i’ll tell you! it’s that each person handles it differently. our boys here all swallow their complaints, the crap they deal with, disagree with, or have been served, and try to shove it into some deep, dark, forgotten pit to never see again. except it doesn’t work, because the more they use magic the more it warps those feelings, feeding off of it. it uses emotions as a sort of super charge for the magic, which creates more negative magic and amplifies the emotions.

so the overblot had already started by the time yuu and grim show up, just some of the boys had decent wraps of it all and didn’t have a nosy human ruining their fucking plans.

okay, kidding, i don’t believe that yuu and grim play a super major part, as eventually the overblots would happen with our without them. either way, i don’t think there would have been a way to stop it without knowing and solving the problem before the transformed and needing anyone in the near vicinity with ability to beat the shit out of the monster controlled student & knock some sense back into them.

i think that by the time yuu shows up, it’s already too late. that first moment we see the ink drip and gather? that’s the start and there’s no stopping it. why? because that was the overblot, the end of filling up and the beginning of tipping without a way to reverse it.

instead of having their emotions all tucked away, the magic has morphed into something nasty, too strong, and they might not even know it. at this point, it’s less about them actually accumulating blot and more that every negative emotion and burst of magic they let out begins to accelerate the build up attracting every little bit of negativity and magic whether or not they actually feel or do anything. the transformation is not the overblot finally happening, it’s the completion, when all that black magic, blot, and emotions burst free from its cage and utter consumes the host.

now i’m not going into the theory i have about the overblot forms and the shadows, because that’s an entirely different topic for me about possession and the great 7, but what i’m trying to say here is—

the overblot is the whole process, not just the transformation and monstrous shadow lurking behind the newest asshole victim.

the ink forming, the unstable spiral each character falls into, and finally the explosion that transforms them. it’s the magic and emotions that muddled together taking on an intent of its own, a will of nothing but chaos and destruction, taints their magic crystals, and uses the host as a means of executing it by clouding their minds and giving them the power they always wanted and needed.

after all, when you’re drunk on power and fed by trauma, are you really going to listen to reason or do what you want because you finally have the ability to do so? of course you’re going to listen to the little voice that says to destroy and take it all for yourself!

[aviya932]

I’ve been thinking whether to write it or not. On one hand this is super important, on the other hand people don’t really care and I’ll probably get hate for it. But this has to be said and I’m gonna do it. This is really long but if you really want to understand what is happening in Israel right now- this is it

I live in Israel, and for the last 48 hours we have been under rapid missile attack. Hamas, which is a terror organization, have been shooting constantly at civilian cities and houses, while at the same time there have been various riots in mixed cities- by which i mean cities that have both Jewish and Islamic population- that in normal days live in co-existence. You have to understand a couple things right now before you come at me:

I don’t talk about high tension cities such as Jerusalem. This is Lod, Ramle, Jaffa and Haifa among others. Those are cities that truly are peaceful 90% of the time and I will talk about Jerusalem and Gaza so just stick with me.

THIS IS NOT A POST ABOUT WHOSE LIFE IS MORE IMPORTANT OR VALUABLE!! Living in Gaza sucks under normal circumstances but living in Sderot is not much better. There is no competition on misery and trust me as a person that actually live in Israel and knows what it’s like here on the day to day that we are well aware on how it’s like in Gaza.

this site REALLY likes to talk about experiences and how when you live through a unique event no one can talk for you about that because they don’t really know what its like. so right here right now it is my experience. You are welcome to ask follow up questions, you may send me a message to learn more or to disagree with a certain point. But if you don’t live here, even if you are from a neighbor country, then you don’t know what’s it like and i wish to god you will never know.

I don’t have all the articles right here with me, because most of the are in Hebrew and I’m writing this really quickly. So if there is interest I’ll give references and I’m really sorry for any typos here. 

Here is a brief timeline of Monday, April 10. I’ll try to stick to as many events without being partial, and for contest there have been two major events on that day:

It is still Ramadan- which means that religious Muslims were on temple mount.

It was also Jerusalem day- which I have no idea how to translate but  celebrates the liberation of the Jewish people and the old city from the Jordan army, and is an Israeli holiday in which it is custom to go to Jerusalem so there were a lot of Jewish people at the Kotel.

There’s a neighborhood in eastern Jerusalem called Sheikh Jarrah, in which there is an ongoing legal fight over ownership and governance. On April 10 there wad supposed to be a sitting in court about evicting Arab familiars. It was decided to postpone because of the tension but there has been many rallys over the topic.

During the Ramadan there has been a lot of tension, so the Israeli police have declared that no Jewish person will get on temple mount at that day. it made people mad, since it is a sacred location for us as well, and some groups have threatened to climb anyway. As far as I know no Jew have managed to get there, since things escalated quickly. Like i said, this month was very tensed, and when the cops hears that the Muslims in Al-Aqsa Mosque were hoarding stones they have decided to go inside. this was at about 08:30-09:00 AM. Since the mosque is right above the kotel this was very worrying but during the chaos there have been injuries- 21 cops and dozens of Palestinians. Stun grenades and stones.   Hamas have given an ultimatum- either the cops get off the mountain by 18:00 or they shoot rockets at Jerusalem, which at the time is filled with as much Muslims as Jews. During the day there have been terror attacks against Jews that came to the city for celebrations and for the flag parade that was planned to start at 16:00 and to end at the kotel. there was a lynch against 3 Jews at sha’ar ha’ariot (lion gate. a lynch that was depicted by the media as the drivers’ fault and as a running over. the truth is that the driver tried to escape the stoning, hit a cement half wall and continued to be hit until a cop came to his rescue) and a 7 month old girl was hit at the head by stones.

by 18:00 Hamas fired 3 barrages toward Jerusalem. And this is the part when i can tell you first-hand. because I was there, because I could not believe that they will shoot at their own people. There were SO MANY PEOPLE at the time from BOTH SIDES. this is a precedent- until then every single shooting was aimed at Jewish city and never at Muslims.

HAMAS SHOOT AT CIVILIANS IN JERUSALEM, A CITY THAT IS CONSIDERS HOLY FOR EVERYONE, DURING THEIR OWN HOLIDAY. THEY SHOT MISSILES AT A CITY IN WHICH MUSLIM ARABS LIVE. THEY SHOT BECAUSE THE POLICE WERE TRYING TO STOP MUSLIMS FROM THROWING ROCKS AT JEWISH PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO GET ON TEMPLE MOUNT. AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE WORST THING IS? THE FACT THAT INTERNATIONAL NEWS IMMEDIATELY STARTED BLAMING THE ISRAELI GOVERNMENT AND POLICE AND COMPLETELY REMOVED ANY RESPONSIBILITY FROM HAMAS AND THE GOVERNMENT IN GAZA. It’s so so easy to blame Israel because Israel is more organized, because our government, while being mostly useless in the last year since we had 5 elections, is built by the peoples’ choice and not by fear, because Gaza is an underdog and we feel for the underdog- and for good reasons. Do not think for a moment that we don’t feel sorry for the people in Gaza. They live under a terrible government that cares more for the Palestinian agenda than their civilians, most Shekels that the Israeli government is transferring won’t reach the people and instead will be taken by Hamas to build bombs, guns, and tunnels. Hamas needs the people to stay underdogs. They will use them as human shields for as long as it gets them sympathy, they will take every opportunity they have to blame Israel and the media is giving them exactly what they want every single time- even Israeli media will twist facts and stories to sound more progressive and ‘woke’ and politically correct. so here are facts for all of you

while it makes me sound like a five year old it’s still true that this time Hamas shot first and unsolicited.

every country that has missiles shot at will, and has the right, to defend itself.

is it okay for civilian casualty? NO. Absolutely no. But don’t any of you dare to use that as a reason for Israeli cruelty. Hamas have sot over 1,000 rockets in the last 48 hours. IDF has attacked about a 150 locations. Hamas is shooting wildly at cities and homes without care who they hit. IDF is targeting senior Hamas figures only. Hamas is shooting from homes and streets. every IDF base that has weapons in will be located outside of civilian location.

IDF is using the “Roof knocking“ technique, and has been using for years. for those who don’t know it- IAF is dropping a non-explosive bomb- a smoke bomb that makes some noise- on top of any location they will hit to inform every single person inside that they need to get out. Only after a few minutes’ waiting will they hit for real. When Hamas is telling us when they will shoot it’s nothing like that. They don’t warn-they threat.

6 Israeli people have died so far. 2 of them were Muslim Arab-Israeli. They do not care who they hit.

the people in mixed cities have been rioting nearly nonstop for 48 hours now while attacking their neighbors, while burning synagogues, cars, homes and restaurants. One of my best friends lives in Lod. they have curfew from 20:00 today until 04:00 tomorrow. Her situations terrifies me more than any bomb because those are people who lived there for years.

not every Muslim and Arab is to blame, and blaming everyone is wrong. BUT ignoring what is happening right now is naive. Do not be blind and do not believe every single thing the media tells you. There are countless videos were Arabs fake death. where they dress as soldiers to fake scenes, where they openly teach their children hate and where their leaders openly lie on live television and get caught.

most of the time people lie because they really believe it, but that only serves the disinformation. Sometimes good intentions only cause more pain and hate.

Israel is not without blame. no one is without blame because life is not a book- there are no 100% good people and a 100% bad people. Life is complicated and so are people and political situations. You have to criticize your sources, and if they paint one side as good and one as bad then you should stop reading them. there are Israeli extremists as well, and far-right movements scare me as much as any Arab riots but no one is working in a vacuum.

the numbers are very different for many reasons. The death and casualties in Gaza is larger for many reasons, but I’ll focus on the most important ones. first, the IDF is more organized and so their bombs are stronger and more advanced. Second, Hamas is intentionally stationed in neighborhoods, schools and hospitals for human shields. third, Israel is using everything they can to protect its’ citizens and pays fortune on Iron Domes. Hamas does nothing to protect the people, and they have the money for that if they wanted since the receive money from Israel, the UN, and various different NGOs. If you don’t bother to protect your own how can you blame others? when people in Israel get hurt because they don’t have shelter they blame our own government.

right now everything here is a mess, and people from outside do not help when they only spread rumors and hate. You don’t live here? you have no clue what is happening. pray for all of us, but first educate your self and read more than one source of news for god sake. If you want the full picture you must read right-side news AND left-side news. Try to understand what is true, try to understand what is an exaggeration, try to understand what both sides are experiencing and don’t just assume that you are the smartest, most educated person just because you support the ‘right’ side. There is no right side. Only A side. So try to stand with us. Stand with Israel and have as much compassion for us as you have for Gaza. We are heading toward a civil war that will not hurt only one side, we have been living like that for years so trust me when i tell you that everyone is tired of how things are. We want peace but we don’t really see it happening anytime soon.

and for the love of god, don’t just send hate. I care about opinions, i want to think about stuff that i haven’t mentioned and to learn from others. Hate comments will not help either of us and will only keep us where we are now, and you trying to hurt me will honestly achieve nothing and will be kinda boring. Sorry for being so blunt but it’s the truth.

[gunterfan1992]

“Exploring the Land of Ooo” out NOW

Surprise!

To all the average Joes and Josephines who follow this blog: I am pleased to announce that my book, Exploring the Land of Ooo, is officially available for download!

Get a PDF copy FOR FREE through the University of Kansas’s ScholarWorks portal!!

If you were curious, here’s the cover:

And here’s what the blurb on the back reads:

Exploring the Land of Ooo is a detailed consideration of Adventure Time, the colorful and exuberant animated television series that initially aired from 2010–18 on Cartoon Network. Created by visionary artist Pendleton Ward, the series was groundbreaking and is credited by many with heralding in a new golden age of animation. In this manuscript, author Paul Thomas presents a thorough overview of the series, explicating the nuances of its characters, its production history, its storytelling methods, and its vibrant fandom. Based in part on interviews with dozens of the creative individuals who made the show possible, this book aims to ensure that, when it comes to Adventure Time, the fun truly will never end.

There are a ton of folks who deserve mad thanks, chief among them being the  crew members whom I interviewed (see below), the many fans who chatted with me about their experiences with the fandom, my ol’ Land of Ooo forum mates (who gave me suggestions and inspired me to keep writing), @j4gm​ (who read over a previous draft and offered me his never-ending wisdom about the lore of Ooo), and everyone who follows this blog (y’all kept me motivated and made me want to produce something I’m proud of).

I hope that you all enjoy it!

And now for a number of questions/comments that I anticipate I will receive:

“Who all did you talk to?”

This is an exciting question, because the answer is quite long! Over the year and a half I wrote this book, I talked to (in alphabetical order): Sam Alden, Alex Campos, Casey James Basichis, Ako Castuera, Ashley Eriksson, Evil, Graham Falk, Ghostshrimp, Polly Guo, Tom Herpich, Derek Hunter, Ke Jiang, Tim Kiefer, Derek Kirk Kim, Laura Knetzger, Sandra Lee, Kirsten Lepore, Patrick McHale, Jesse Moynihan, Justin Moynihan, Kris Mukai, Hanna K. Nyström, Kent Osborne, Jack Pendarvis, Gary Portnoy, Andy Ristaino, Lindsay Small-Butera, Rebecca Sugar, Soichi Terada, Rich Vreeland, Thomas Wellmann, Steve Wolfhard, Michelle Xin, and Niki Yang. That’s a lot of people!

“Why did you release this for free?”

This is a long story. You see, I was initially planning to release this through McFarland and Co. (they’re an indie book publisher that I’ve worked with in the past), but then something happened...

Our story begins around the beginning of this year. Around this time, I got in contact with Rebecca Sugar and Adam Muto, both of whom were willing to chat with me about their experiences on the show. However, CN’s PR department got involved too, and, after initially working with me, they suddenly sent me what was effectively a “gentle cease-and-desist” letter. At first, I assumed it was because of copyright—and that’s how they were framing their objections��so I told the network that I’d release the work for free and eschew royalties. This, for whatever reason, did not sway their judgement. At this point, I was confused, since my work had effectively become something like an open-source dissertation or a free Wikipedia article.

Why did CN snub me? I’m not sure—and I have to emphasize that this next bit is just speculation—but I think it’s because I was asking questions about Bubbline. You see, it was only after I received answers from Rebecca (who specifically addressed the origin of Bubbline) that CN said I couldn’t use any of her or Adam’s quotes, as they were “unauthorized.” What exactly did Rebecca tell me that was explosive? tldr, Bubbline was her idea, she pitched it to Adam when they first started to work on WWM, Pen et al. were supportive of the idea, and while the crew succeeded in getting the relationship confirmed (eventually), the homophobic culture of society/Hollywood made the journey very difficult. Rebecca told me that she also saw Marceline and Bubblegum as queer characters, and wrote them that way pretty much from the get-go. Anyway, I don’t think CN wanted me to delve into this, since it doesn’t exactly paint the company in the best light.

It was then that Dean Kevin Smith of the University of Kansas Libraries stepped in and allowed me to publish the book through the library and upload a PDF to the library’s “ScholarWorks” portal. This means that anyone the world over can download the book for free! At the end of the day, I think it’ll reach more people this way!

“Can I get a physical copy of this book?”

Message me for details, yo!

“I FOUND A TYPO!”

Excellent! Please let me know. I still have access to the proofs and can upload a fresh copy of the manuscript to ScholarWorks when it is necessary. I’d love for you all to take a look and see if you can find any typos or wonky sentences. With that being said, I already know that I love to put prepositional phrases at the start of sentences; I also heavily use (and likely abuse) semicolons and parentheses. (See what I did there?) I hope you’ll forgive me.

“Will you be expanding the book once all the Distant Lands specials are out?”

Right now, this is my goal. I waited to publish this until after “BMO” was released, as I worried that the episode might contradict some of my more speculative sections, but I do no think this came to pass. As such, the version that you’re getting is only slightly tweaked. Once more and more production info comes out about the specials, however, I would love to go back and expand pertinent sections. Keep your eyes peeled for updates! (And if I do release a new edition, it will be free, too.)

“I have a suggestion...”

Let me hear it! I’d love to take your input and work it into the manuscript. Like I have said above, I plan to release an updated version if/when that becomes necessary, so I’m always going to keep my ears open to any critiques or suggestions that will improve the work!

Happy adventuring, y’all!

[a-problematic-writer]

It was a pretty Autumn day. The sky cloudless and a perfect deep blue. Pleasantly warm and just the slightest whisper of a breeze. A perfect day for the park, for a trip to the lake, to go to the local super duper mart to buy a costume for Halloween. An unassuming kind of day, one expected to go as mundane as any.

One that should have been mundane.

One that wasn’t.

Jesse was at the kitchen table, enjoying a midday bowl of Sugar Bombs and reading the latest issue of Grognak the Barbarian. A normal routine these days.

Jess had flipped on the TV some moments ago needing the background noise. The monotone drone of the announcer came through in a buzz. Jesse continued her comic. A dog barked in the distance. The news anchor droned on...

Then something shifted. The news anchors usually upbeat voice grew grim. Jesse raised her eyes. The dog went silent.

“Followed by... yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sound of explosions... we’re... uh we’re trying to get confirmation,”

Jesse’s breath stilled, something cold and numb washing over her.

“But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate station...”

There was a pause. Nothing but silence and then;

“Yes, we do have... coming in... that is, uh, confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania as well as one heading for Boston,” the news anchors voice dipped and then trembled, “My God...”

The world stilled. Jesse’s breath hitching as her fingers involuntarily laxed around her spoon; the utensil dropping into the milk and splashing up onto her shirt and table. She blinked once then twice. The stillness shattered with a shriek from someone she could only assume was her neighbor. The TV now only showed the standby screen.

Jesse pushed herself up from the table quickly and bolted for her door. She was greeted outside by her neighbors all running up the street. Momentarily, she was confused then her eyes caught on the Vault-Tec billboard.

The vault.

She broke into a sprint falling in line with the rest of the panicked crowd all along watching the sky. She couldn’t see the missile. Perhaps that was a good thing. There was a dense crowd leading up the gated, guard-protected entrance. Jesse weaved her way to the front, mind blank.

“Name?” the guard asked firmly. Jesse blinked eyes darting to the sky. Searching for the missile and finding nothing once more.

“NAME?!”

She jumped and stuttered out: “Jesse Lawrence!”

The guard flipped through a clipboard quickly. The was a clamor from the crowd. A cacophony of panic. Jesse’s gaze shot to the skies again. Nothing.

“No ‘Jesse Lawrence’ on the list.”

Jesse blinked. “What?”

“There is no ‘Jesse Lawrence’ on the list. Just Tanya Lawrence and Alvin Lawrence.”

Jesse blinked again. “There has to be a~”

Before ‘mistake’ could leave her mouth, Jesse remembered that when her mother and father applied for entrance to the vault that her app had been declined... over a typo in her birthdate.

They had planned to clear that up the following week; after her parents got back from California...

“I’m gonna have to ask you to step away from the gate, miss,”

Jesse inhaled sharply. “But...”

“Or I will use force to make you.”

Jesse jumped back with a yelp as the soldier lifted their gun, her hands up as she backed away. She turned on her heel afterward. Everything numbing as she absently made her way back down the dirt path into town. She passed neighbor after neighbor that was scrambling up the path to the vault that was an annoyance but now salvation.

She stopped at the oak tree in the middle of the culdesac. Her eyes finally lifting to the sky. Nothing. Maybe they had been wrong. Maybe this was just a scare. Maybe nothing was wrong...

Someone else shuffled up next to her. Jesse’s gaze cut over to them and she blinked.

She had went to school with him. They were part of the same graduating class. She had only recently found out they only lived a block from each other. She found her heart aching. He must have been denied entry too.

His eyes turned to her. She always remembered the young man looking tough, cocky, mean. Right now, he had tears glistening in his eyes and a tremble in his frame that matched her own. They just looked at each other for awhile.

“Jesse, right?” his voice shook. It wasn’t at all what she remembered.

Jesse nodded. “Was it Aiden or Aymin?”

“Aiden.”

It went quiet between them or as quiet as hysteria could be. Aiden had always been a bully. Though he had mellowed out in about 10th grade. From then, they were just acquaintances. Jesse had paid him no mind and he paid her none in return. She had always wanted to try making friends with him. The opportunity was just missed and, now, was gone forever.

“Why aren’t you in the vault, Jesse? I know I saw you and your parents at the vault-tec office.”

She frowned gaze darting away from him. “There was a mistake on my application. I wasn’t put on the list.”

“I’m sorry.” he murmured.

“Why aren’t you?”

“There were only three spots left. So I chose to stay while my sister got into the vault.”

Jesse blinked at him. She hadn’t taken him as the selfless type.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It-it had to be her.”

Silence stole in again. Something flashed in the sky. Her breath hitched.

The missile had entered the atmosphere.

She watched the smoke trail from the tail of it. They had all feared this day. The day when tensions grew to taut. When the war would finally destroy them all. And here they were standing in the fire. She wondered if her mother and father were safe.

She wondered if they knew she wasn’t.

Her legs gave out from under her and she landed on her knees in the dirt. Aiden knelt down with her. They watched the missile’s distance grow closer and closer to the ground. A air strike siren could be heard in the distance. The ground rumbled as vault 111 closed its doors. Jesse could only think about everything she didn’t do. She didn’t get to tell her mother and father ‘I love you’ that day. She didn’t get to know the boy next to her.

A hand connected with hers. She turned to Aiden and he turned to her. Their fingers interlaced. She decided to only look at him. There was a flash followed by an explosion.

And then nothing.

[highsviolets]

of hyperdrives & hands: engineer!reader x obi-wan

summary: you’re fixing the hyperdrive on the Negotiator when a mysterious being pays you a visit.

word count: I honestly have no idea bc i wrote this whole thing on my notes app in the car lmao. (sorry if the formatting is weird/there are typos!!)

rating: G. but also, this is basically a love letter to Ewan McGregor’s gorgeous hands.

A/N: fulfilling a request for the lovely @aty-cgca7! ily, chasity! I hope it’s everything you were looking for 💖 also I know nothing about engineering or computers or hyperdrives so don’t come for me y’all 😂

of hyperdrives & hands, a fic by corellians-only

Brow furrowed in concentration, you squint in the hazy light. Reaching up to your forehead with your left hand, you slide your fingers across the surface of your skin, batting away renegade wisps of hair that had fallen away from your bun.

Maker, but it was warm down here, in the maw of this behemoth ship. You curse softly to yourself as a bead of sweat hovered perilously close to your eyelash, threatening to obscure your vision as you strain to locate the loose wire that had sent you onto the Negotiator in the first place. Hadn’t your father always warned your that space was cold? When you told him you had joined the Civilian Engineer Corps to help with the war effort, he had even cracked a joke about adding extra layers to your uniform.

You frown. Clearly, accomplished pilot though he was, you father had never been in the hyperdrive control center of a Republic Venator-class Star Destroyer.

Catching your distraction, you shake your head. No. You needed to focus. Now was not the time to question your father’s supposed space travel wisdom. There’s a job to be done. Hyperdrives did not fix themselves.

There she is. Rather than simply becoming disconnected, the wire had split in two, snapping under the pressure from the processing core directly above the unit. This was going to be more complicated than you thought.

For a few hours, the only sounds that filled the room were soft snip of wirecutters and the gentle thrum of the engines. As you start re-routing the stray wire, your mind begins to wander.

You had heard stories about Star Destroyers with entire hangers of processing cores for the shields alone. That their nav computers were the most accurate in the galaxy. That their holo encryption system was unbreakable (it wasn’t. You had written and sliced a viral code into their data key a few standard months back, just to see if you could). This was your first time on such a warship when it was in space, and while it was impressive, at the end of the day, it ran like any other ship.

Tali had been even aboard General Secura’s flagship, the Liberty, for a supply dump once and she swore that their weapons systems were the most flawless thing she had ever seen - barring General Kenobi, of course, she had added with an impish grin tossed your way.

Your not-so-subtle crush on the dashing General was an open secret among your platoon of female engineers. Most of them assumed it was because he was pretty and famous — he was on nearly every holomag cover, after all — but you knew better. You knew he was a good man. His hands told you so.

The first time you had seen General Kenobi, you had been playing in the undercity of Coruscant when a boy a little older than yourself had stopped to ask what you were building with the rubble left behind from an explosion caused by the nascent Black Sun cartel a few days earlier.

“I don’t know,” you had responded belligerently, upset at your endeavors having been interrupted - and by a boy, no less. “Why do you have a braid in your hair?” you continued. “I thought only girls had braids.”

The boy had adjusted his stance to stand up taller. “I’m going to be a Jedi,” he proclaimed. “I’m Obi-Wan,” he offered with a smile. His eyes flashed suddenly, and with a quick thrust, his hand extended into the dusty air. A sheet of durasteel that had been hovering precariously at the tip of the heap was now suspended in midair, mere centimeters from crashing down on your head. Even in the grim half-light of the slums, you could see sapphire eyes earnestly fixed on the hunk of metal. Strong, lithe fingers gestured gracefully. The object fell with a great crash a few meters away.

You could only stare in awe.

The faint sound a male voice calling had caused him to twist his head and listen. “I have to go.” He frowned. “Master Qui-Gon is calling me. I hope I see you again some day.”

He bowed slightly, then turned and trotted back toward his Master.

You had never been quite able to forget the teenager with pretty hands who had saved your life.

Nearly two decades later, you had seen him again. You and Tali had been sipping cups of caf before your shifts in the makeshift mess hall of a personnel loading area when you sensed his presence. Not in a Jedi way - you didn’t have a lick of Force sensitivity, you knew - but in the way you noticed that everyone seemed to speak a little softer and trail their eyes after the passing figure in white armor.

He had strode past the the two of you, hardly sparing a glance at two female civilian engineers and pointedly ignoring the sheer weight of the gazes trained on him. Later, over a pint of lomin ale, Tali has raved about his hair, and how “he had a shoulder to hip ratio that was sharper than a vibroblade, didn’t you notice?”

You had taken a sip of your drink and laughed good-naturedly at Tali’s antics. You had noticed him, to be sure, but you had been transfixed by his hands, not his muscles.

Back in the days before the war, when you were still a little girl, your father Aves had always told you to take note of a being’s hands. In the present moment, you smile as you refit the access panel on the hyper drive’s core reactor as a the memory comes to mind.

Even though he was a good father, Aves had been a man of mystery. Whatever it was he did for a living, it had blessed him with an intimate knowledge of guns, starships, and computers, and he had passed everything he knew on to his “blazing sun,” he used to call you affectionately.

“Blazing sun,” he would instruct you, “you can tell a lot about a being by their hands.” When he was satisfied he had captured your attention, the impression of a smile glowed across his face. He resumed cleaning his carbine rifle as he spoke, his voice low and smooth. “You can tell a lot about a being by their hands,” he intoned again. “Their trade. Their social class. How they hold a weapon. What kind of weapons they use. If they can pilot a ship. If their mind is focused or skittish.” The tall man had shrugged gently, an action that seemed counterintuitive to the grade A contraband blaster now resting comfortably in his expert grip. A new power pack slapped into place with a precise snap. “If you ever want to know someone” — he tucked a stray hair behind your ear tenderly, the other hand still clutching the blaster — “look at their hands.”

You begin tapping out routine codes on the core reactor to test the replacement wire. The various combinations of letters and numbers in basic and binary were muscle memory, and you stared in awe as your own fingers punch in the digits seemingly of their own volition.

Yes, it was General Kenobi’s hands that most enraptured you, you decided. Slender, calloused (you supposed - not that you had ever had the pleasure of testing that theory for yourself), extensions of strong, well muscled arms that indicated a strong degree over his motions. He had held them so softly at his sides that day in the mess hall. They had gestured animatedly as he walked alongside a clone commander, a graceful arc to his movements that made you think he would be a good dancer — or a formidable fighter.

The klaxon of an alarm drives you from your reverie. “Oh, kriff.” The latest code you had entered seemed to have caused the wires to short circuit, tripping an internal safety alarm.

“Kriff, kriff, kriff.” You continue to swear violently as you all but run over to the central computer console and entering a code to kick-start a program to halt the shrieking din. Within the minutes, the alarm bells stop, and you sag against the console in relief.

“Is something the matter?” a rich tenor voice asks from behind you.

Immediately you tense. In a singular, practiced motion, you pivot on your left heel and whip your blaster into your right hand simultaneously, turning to face the voice in a fighting stance.

“Freeze!” you call into the shadows. Your eyes scan the cavernous room methodically before settling on a spot a few meters in from the doorway where the light seems distorted. You take aim with your blaster.

“Justice, freedom, faith,” the disembodied voice replies calmly from the same spot.

Your eyes narrow. Whoever the being was, they had given the correct password. But the upper-class Coruscanti accent didn’t belong to anyone in your platoon, and who else would be prowling around the underbelly of General Kenobi’s flagship? There had been faint rumors of a lightsaber wielding Separatist operative. Maybe they were coming to sabotage the ship? Well, not on your watch.

“Step into the light,” you order, durasteel edging into your voice. “Keep your hands above your head.” The contours of the blaster are cool, comforting in your grip, soothing the blood rushing just beneath the surface.

A tall auburn-haired man steps into the light, arms raised. “Will this suffice?” he asked wryly, amusement playing across his features as you feel shock and embarrassment creep up your neck and onto your cheeks.

Stars above. I almost shot General Kenobi. A thousand thoughts race through your mind faster than light speed - some witty, some pragmatic.

But of course, what slips out is neither of those.

“Fierfek, you startled me,” you manage to spit out instead. It’s only your steel will that prevents you from collapsing from embarrassment on the spot. Feigning nonchalance you decidedly do not feel about almost murdering a war hero and childhood crush, you holster your weapon and turn back to the console.

“I gathered as much,” he returns, amusement still coloring his tone.

The room fell silent for a few moments as you run system diagnostics.

“What is it you’re working on?” This time, he’s so near you can feel the heat of his breath on the back of your neck. Well honed reflexes are faster than your brain, though, and it isn’t until you feel a gentle pressure on your elbow that you realize it’s raised to jab him in the throat.

General Kenobi’s chuckle seems to fill the room. “Are you sure you aren’t trying to kill me?” he murmurs. A shiver runs up your spine despite yourself and you feel your stomach start to coil.

You stare at the data steaming on the console until your eyesight begins to blur. “That depends. Are you trying to kill me, sir?” Maker, but you were mouthy today. What was wrong with you?

Kenobi releases your arm dropping his to his side. Immediately, you feel bereft somehow with the loss of his touch.

Peering over your shoulder, he asks, “hyperdrive problems?”

Kriff, does that man not realize what he is doing to you, muttering in your ear like that? Of course he doesn’t, you dolt, you tell yourself; he’s a Jedi. Not his fault you’ve had a crush on him since you were nearly eight years old.

“A replacement wire short-circuited the system and triggered an emergency code,” you respond as evenly as you can manage. A fresh sweat breaks out across your forehead as another complex code dances across the screen.

“What code is that?” He reaches out as though he could absorb the masses of data contained in the system through osmosis. Maybe he can. You’re not a Jedi.

The movement serves a different purpose for you. Something wet and bright glistens as his hand moves into the blue light of the console.

“You’re bleeding.”

He glances down and grimaces. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” Blood is starting to gather around an incision slashed across his right hand.

He opens his mouth to retort no doubt, but you beat him to it. “Don’t give me that bantha dung about Jedi business.” A grease stained finger jabs in the direction of his chest.

Kenobi’s face remains impassive. When he doesn’t respond, you roll your eyes, and, tugging at his elbow, drag him over to the glow lamp near your workstation.

He continues to scrutinize you, and you look down at yourself, wondering what he’s staring at. Your coverall sleeves are rolled up, there’s sweat gathering at your collarbone, and you feel the grimy mixture of dust and stale perspiration coating your face. You’re a hot mess if there ever was one.

Resolutely, you ignore the flush on your cheeks and the steel of his gaze and rummage for a bandage in the care pack attached to your hip. Several excruciating seconds later you find one and tear it open.

It’s when you’re grasping his hand in one of yours the he finally speaks. “I’ve seen you before.”

His cool composure inspires a sudden flash of irritation. “You seem rather certain sir,” you say as you apply a bacta salve.

“Because I am,” he responds mildly. His hand grips yours tightly when you apply the bandage, and you almost asphyxiate on the spot. You were right — his hands are calloused.

“Well, consider this your repayment from saving a girl from durasteel in the Coruscant under-levels about twenty years ago,” you answer with a quick smile. It’s hard to be angry when Obi-Wan Kenobi is in effect, holding your hand.

Reluctantly you release him from your grasp, letting your hand drift down to your side.

The General inclines his head in thanks, then glances back at the computer. “Is the hyperdrive fixed, then?”

You nod, stuffing supplies back into your pack. “I modified the code and replaced the wire so it should be okay.” You meet his eyes. “I’ll be with the ship until it returns to Coruscant, so if there any problems I’ll be available to assist, sir.”

You turn to leave, but he reaches out and catches your hand. “And who do I have to thank for such diligent caretaking of both my ship and my hand?” he inquires. His touch is like satin against your dirty hands and you grin in spite of it.

You consider for a moment. “A blazing sun,” you tell him.

You smile as you make your back to your quarters. Yes, you could tell a lot about a person by their hands.

[tmntxreader-fics]

TMNT Leo x Reader: Warming Up To You

Summary: You had long dismissed the idea of becoming friends with the icy leader in blue as it seemed to be an impossible mission. Finally, both of your frustrations lead to an explosive encounter; providing you both the opportunity to warm up to each other.

Find Raph’s Version HERE!

A/N: I HAVEN’T WRITTEN IN A WHILE I’M SUPER RUSTY.  Yeehaw we got a LEO version of this fic!!! We stan a tsundere king. He’s almost got a predatory vibe to him and I’m not exactly sure where it came from but I think it’s kinda hot so here we go. 

WARNINGS: Cursing, Leo scaring the reader half to death during a sparring match, AND TYPOS!

You’d think that Raphael would be the unapproachable one. 

In fact, even Donatello had the potential to be unreachable when any one of his projects were involved. 

But the leader of the group? You’d have figured that at least he would be someone who had qualities relating to friendliness. The success of his role depends on being communicative; surely he would carry that trait off the battlefield?

You were so wrong. 

When you had first arrived you’d assumed his indifference to you was simply because of your unfamiliarity. You were, of course, a stranger. He had a duty to protect his family and you were obviously a threat to that; there was no way he’d give you the opportunity to ruin the life they had set up for themselves. 

However, as the months rolled by, he never came around. 

Each attempt to conversate was blown off with a polite exit or an awkwardly executed excuse to avoid talking. You were literally only asking about the weather, not attempting to uncover his family secrets. 

You watched the way he interacted with April and Casey, maybe he was simply a quiet person. Lo and behold, he had absolutely no issue speaking to them. He spoke, he joked, asked them to join him when eating and hung around them fairly often when not attending to his duties or training. 

Something in your chest stung with each rejection and you couldn’t help but become slightly bitter with the attitude he held towards you- simply because you knew it was you that he was avoiding. After a few days of digesting this new revelation, you decided that if you genuinely made him uncomfortable with your attempts of friendliness then you would step back completely and remain professional. 

Each time he asked you a question when mapping out a mission, you’d begun to clip your tone just as he had been. Each word was stiff and your sentences were minimal. While the others were a little confused by the change, Leo refused to pay you any attention. He probably appreciated the intangible distance you had put between you and him. 

The third time you’d done this, it was clear that he, in fact, was not appreciative. At the strange silence that stretched across the table, you looked up from the sheet beneath you to catch eye contact with Leo. His gaze was narrowed, the piercing blue was almost suffocating. Your heart leaped into your throat and you stood frozen in place when his bottom lip curled a little; a clear implication of frustration. He leaned back and opened his mouth as if he were preparing to say something or question you. 

Then he closed it. 

There was absolutely no logical reason for him to be irritated with you. You weren’t withholding information from him and you were effectively communicating your points. 

Raising an eyebrow, you rested a hand on your hips; daring him to make a comment. Instead, the leader grit his teeth, exhaling slowly before returning his gaze to the strategy splayed across the table. There’s a long silence before he continued to talk- but at that point, your heart was beating too loud for you to focus on his words. 

Raphael glanced between his brother and yourself, a picture of bewilderment. You ignored him. 

Just as you had ignored Leo for the entirety of the following week. 

Well, perhaps ignore is the incorrect term; rather, you were indifferent to his presence. 

Each time you were alone in the kitchen together, you made no effort to spark a conversation with him. Instead, you’d nod your acknowledgment before making a swift exit- just as he had done to you countless times. 

What had piqued your curiosity was the fact that all of a sudden, the number of times you’d been caught in a situation alone with Leo has risen significantly. He had begun to appear in places that you’d otherwise never see him, at times that were completely off from his usual schedule. 

The most drastic example would be today’s training session. You had swaggered into the room, ready to provoke Raph until he snapped and kicked your ass. It had become a sort of unorthodox tradition, one that left you sore but you’d look forward to it nonetheless. It was the only time for you to really test your skills without him worrying too much about being careful with you. 

However, this particular session made you halt your steps, suspended in motion within the doorway. 

Leonardo was there. 

You blinked. 

He’s still there. Brandishing his katanas with lethal grace and performing his kata’s flawlessly. Raphael was nowhere to be seen and you’re just about to turn tail and escape before you make eye contact with the turtle in the center of the room. His gaze was intense and the air felt different, as if it were alight with a thick tension. 

Leonardo didn’t avert his stare like he usually did; instead, he lowered his arms to his side and straightened his stance. You gulped and your brain worked to churn out an excuse to leave, the last thing you wanted was to have the leader judge your training routine. 

“I’ll just come back later then,” you blurted, shattering the silence with a small wince. To your surprise, he had shaken his head almost immediately. 

“No,” he began, eyeing you carefully. “I’ll stay to my side of the room while you train.” 

Your breath hitched and it felt as though someone had stuffed cotton into your mouth. “Uh,” you desperately searched for another excuse, “I usually spar with Raph. I’ll just come back another time.” 

You thought you had him, there’s no way he could come up with a rebuttal unless he planned to bring in Raphael. However, when his reply was almost instantaneous, your heart thrashed in your chest. 

“Spar with me.” 

You blinked at him. “What?”

He spun a sword in his hand before moving to rest his weapons against the wall. Leonardo turned back to you with a raised eyebrow ridge. “Spar. With. Me.” 

“I can’t,” you heard yourself say, your voice almost a whisper as you took an involuntary step back. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at the mere thought of training with the blue-clad turtle. 

“Sure you can,” he said with a slight shrug, slowly advancing towards you. Each step he took made you want to flinch away. 

Raphael was an intensely brutish opponent but his techniques were very straight forward. Everything about him was bared for you to see, unashamed in his temperamental disposition and foul language. Leonardo was a completely different story, the idea of being put against him in a sparring session genuinely terrified you. 

Especially with the new demeanor he had obtained, one that was almost predatory in nature. He was frustrated and you could clearly sense it. 

“It’s fine I’ll just wait for Raph,” your voice was a breathy whisper as he came to a stop only a couple feet before you. That was the closest he had ever been to you voluntarily, usually opting to steer clear of you as if you were the plague. 

His eyes flashed an electric blue, crackling with an energy that you had never seen from him previously. He reached for the bag in your hand, maintaining eye contact as he gripped it tightly, skin brushing against yours. “I insist.” 

You swallowed heavily when you realized he was no longer asking you.

After nodding quickly, you're finally able to catch your breath when he leaned back with your gym bag in his hold. 

Following him further into the room, he placed down your things and met you in the center. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, simply taking to observing you. 

“How do you want to do this?” You questioned, nervousness rattling around your stomach as he rolls his shoulders lightly. 

“Win by submission.”

The simple statement had you grimacing.  

"I really don't think this is a good idea," you muttered, casting your gaze to the floor.

"Then stop thinking," he said, supplying a solution you would never enact. You rolled your eyes, glancing at him with a bemused expression.

"For someone who's meant to be wise, you're not exactly adept at giving good advice," you snarked, fuelled by the growing stress and pressure of your current situation. You were in uncharted waters with your new opponent; someone you had spent so long playing against with an unrecognized advantage on your side. Now that he had finally given you what you wanted, you realized that maybe gaining his attention wasn't as satisfying as you'd originally thought. More like terrifying.

His eyes hardened at your words and you immediately knew you had made a mistake by jabbing at his position. "Get into your stance," he ordered with a narrowed gaze, "now."

"I really don't-" you began, heart thrashing with panic when he cut you off.

"Now," he repeated.

Hesitantly, you shifted your feet into the correct position, raising your shaking hands to guard your face. You felt as though you were going to be sick when he bowed, a sign that the sparring session had begun.

He returned his gaze to meet yours as he straightened up and you could hear the blood rushing through your ears. Yes, you thought, puking could definitely be an option here. Your bottom lip quivered on par with your trembling hands guarding your face.

This was not right. 

You had sparred with Raphael, of all people, multiple times. You never feared an ass whooping from the temperamental turtle; so, why are you afraid of the leader? Someone who has constantly exercised restraint where his brothers would usually indulge? Out of all of them, he would be the least likely to hurt you. Hell, Raphael had fractured bones every now and then.  

The leader launched forward, breaking you from your chain of thought as you sloppily dodged a reaching fist. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You stumbled backward, forced to be on the defense. There was no time to even attempt an offense with the speed that Leonardo was operating at. He was a flurry of kicks and well-placed punches and you knew that you were immediately being overwhelmed. 

“Leonardo,” you rasped desperately, squeaking when he answered only with a sweeping leg in which you barely escaped. The intensity of this fight was way too high for a spar that had only begun 20 seconds ago. 

“Just hold on!” You cried out after a failed attempt to throw your own punch. Another right jab on your behalf had only resulted in you almost being snatched up by the blue-clad whirlwind. 

Each attack that he executed had built in the force behind it, forcing you back with each blow. You were quickly realizing that physically blocking his moves was not going to work out well for you and you opted to jump out of the way instead. 

All of a sudden you felt like this was less of a sparring match and more of a slaughter-to-be. 

“Press pause!” Your screech was reinforced by sheer panic when he feigned right and you fell right into his trap as you twisted your body away from him. Leo moved with you and you squeaked when he finally caught a tight grip on your arm. 

In that split-moment, your eyes met his, an electric blue that made your wildly racing heart just stop. His hooded gaze was steely and the pent up frustration was thinly veiled, boiling beneath his skin and communicated through his movements. 

You suddenly realized that this fight was about to end very, very quickly. 

With a flash of his teeth, Leonardo wrenched you towards him. 

You can’t breathe as your splayed palms connect with his chest, your body pressed against his. His hands moved down to your waist and you want to puke when you instantly realize he’s about to launch a very painful maneuver on you. 

It felt as though everything was suddenly in slow motion as his fingers tightened above your hips, bringing you off the ground. You had no idea how to stop him, how to save yourself from what was about to occur. Racking your brain, you screamed the only words that came to mind and prayed that they would work. 

“I submit!” 

Leo’s entire body froze as if someone had pressed the pause button on his remote controller. You could hear the blood rushing through your ears, mingled with his unusually labored breathing. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” Your words were nothing but a breathless whimper and you squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop your body from trembling. “I submit.” 

There’s a pregnant pause, in which neither of you moved. You were vaguely aware of your face buried in his chest, latching onto his shell as if that would’ve stopped the further attacks. The feel of his body rhythmically rising and falling beneath you with each breath felt strange, you would have almost described it as intimate if it weren’t for the current situation. You only noticed that you were suspended a few inches off the ground when Leo, ever so gently, lowered you back down. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated quietly, heart pounding in your chest. “I don’t know what you want from me.” 

And it was out. 

Leo’s fingers tightened fractionally on your waist and you heard him take a sharp breath. 

Then he sighed. 

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” he murmured, his voice rumbling in his chest against your ear. 

You don’t know why but for some reason you weren’t actually expecting a response from him. You’d almost expected him to disappear in a puff of smoke, something he had done many times in your presence when you confronted him with conversations. 

“I tried to keep a respectful distance,” Leo began, faltering slightly in his words. You held your breath. “I didn’t mean for it to become like this.” 

You assumed that “this” meant growing bitter and resentful towards each other for absolutely no logical reason with no visible end. 

“Respectful?” You couldn’t help but scoff softly, pulling your face away from his shell. You turned your gaze upwards to meet his, startled by the close proximity. “You gave me the complete cold shoulder. Ostracized me.” 

Leo’s gaze narrowed slightly, electric blue gaze searching your own for an answer to a question only he knew. “You certainly weren’t innocent, either.” 

You felt the heat rush to your face, indignation building in your chest as you hissed, “don’t make me say “you started it”. Don’t make me do it.” 

He sighed through his nose and glanced away for a brief moment before turning back to you, “I know, I’m sorry. I was avoiding distraction by avoiding you and it was the wrong choice to make.” 

You frowned lightly, “distraction?” You scoffed as you glared up at him with guarded eyes, “You’re fine with April O’Neil but I’m the distraction?” 

You watched as his jaw moved while he grit his teeth. That electric gaze flickered away from you, suddenly seeming insecure. “You’re different,” he muttered finally, voice softer than you had ever heard it. 

Suddenly you’re very aware of his gentle but firm grip on your waist, his thumb subconsciously rubbing lightly against your skin. His hands were hot, setting alight every place that they touched. 

It seemed you were not the only one suddenly aware of your compromising position. 

Leo was observing you intently, lips parting when his gaze traveled to where your hands rested against his shell. You couldn’t bring yourself to correct your position even when under his study. 

“Let’s start over,” you whispered, watching him snap his attention back to you at the words. 

There’s silence between you both until Leo swallowed thickly, exhaling a shaky breath. Extending an olive branch would be your final attempt, your last hurrah. The air was charged with energy you couldn’t decipher as you leaned into him, meeting his bewildered stare imploringly. He doesn’t budge other than the grip on your body tightening a fraction. 

You’re almost prepared for rejection until you catch the corner of his mouth shifting upward ever so slightly. 

“I’m Leonardo,” he said, and your hearth thrashed in your chest as a charming smile stretched against his full lips. “It’s really nice to meet you.”