#I did a very amusing research for part 3

[goingmerryfics]

Sitting in their lap while they’re not paying attention - w/ Law, Luffy, & Kid

Content: Gender neutral reader

Notes* Thinking about doing a NSFW part of this.. perhaps..

Part 1 2 3 4

Law

Sure, he’s not paying attention at the moment. But years of dealing with Penguin and Shachi’s antics have made him hyper aware to anyone’s bullshittery

Usually, as soon as anyone would start to inch towards him, he’d look up from whatever he was doing and warn the person to knock off whatever they were planning and pay attention

But this time, the combination of being exhausted from more lack of sleep than usual and being so passionate about the subject matter he was trying to relay to you, you managed to pull it off

Slowly, you inched towards him as he rambled on, lowered yourself into his lap, and he didn’t even flinch. All he did was move the research paper he was reading off of so he could still see it

You were seated comfortably, sideways across his lap, one arm around his shoulders to keep you steady. Success.

His free hand rests on your back as he continues. He doesn’t notice for a few seconds more, until he glances towards you for a moment

He freezes. His words cut off, and he starts to quickly go red

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You don’t see him complaining, though

He demands for you to get off of him and quite messing around, but he won’t make a move to push you off. Nor do you feel his hand move off of your back

You tell him to go on, that you’re still listening

He’s too tired to fight with you and, truthfully, he wants to call you on your bluff

So he continues to explain his medical research to you, stopping every now and then to quiz you and ask you something about what he’d just read, or about your own theories

It’s actually a very insightful conversation, and he’s kind of pissed about it

Why do you focus better when you’re being a menace?

Once he’s through though, he does start to gently shove you off

“Alright, get out. I have things to do.”

As soon as you’re gone he leans back and lets out a hefty sigh

You’ll kill him with your antics one day

Luffy

Don’t try it during a meal. Yeah, it’s one of the only times this ball of energy is seated and not bouncing around, but he will shove you away and continue stuffing his face

Best time to try this is when he’s settling down for the day, about to head off to bed

Especially because he’s even more cuddly than usual when he’s ready to sleep

He’ll be hanging out in the boy’s cabin when you enter, they’re all chatting and laughing about something from the last island they stopped at, and the only person that really pays attention when you head straight for Luffy’s lap is Zoro, because nothing gets past him

Sanji doesn’t notice until you’re already in his lap, and he cooes at you to come sit in his lap instead

“What? No! They chose me! Get your own person!”

Luffy’s arms extend and wrap around you a couple times, effectively trapping you there with him, no way to move your arms or anything lower than your shoulders. Not that you mind, of course

Luffy’s always been extra affectionate, whether his intention be platonically or romantically. Hugging, kissing people’s cheeks, holding hands, the works

He pulls you right up to his chest and continues the conversation, your face comfortably resting on him

You can feel the vibration of his chest when he laughs

He’s warm. It’s comforting

If you thought this was a short-term deal, you’d be wrong. He doesn’t want to let you go now that he has your comfort, and you’ll stay in his arms well into the night

At least he pulls up a blanket when he notices you starting to fall asleep

“Aw, already dozing off? But we were having so much fun!”

He doesn’t try to keep you awake, though. You fall asleep against his chest, and sleep peacefully into morning

Kid

There are only two ways you’re going to be able to do this

Either he is truly distracted, or you think he’s distracted and he notices, but he’s just amused to watch you do it

In the first scenario, he would be at his workstation, fixing up his arm. Making some adjustments after noticing that it’s getting a bit loose in places

As long as everything is going the way he needs it to- fixing something is difficult with one arm -he’ll be calm enough not to completely toss you for trying to distract him

Keep talking to him and he won’t notice. He can only focus on so much

You let him know that you brought him a snack and something to drink, and he grunts in response. Good, he’s got all his attention in one spot

You put the plate and the cup down somewhere that Kid will be able to reach it but not knock it over accidentally, and quickly slide into his lap while going off about some updates on what the crew is up to in his absence

He shifts where he needs to so he can keep working without you in the way, which ends up with you facing him, gripping his shoulders to keep you steady

The minute you have nothing more to say, he very suddenly starts to shout

“The hell do ya think you’re doing, idiot!?”

Hop off and run for your life, because he tosses his whole arm your way while blushing as bright as his hair

On the other hand, if you crawl into his lap while and he notices, he won’t speak a word but he’ll watch your every move

You think you’ve gotten away with it

You ramble on and on about whatever comes to mind, but short by a pair of large hands around your waist and his breath tickling your neck

You stumble over your words, blush rising to your cheeks

“Go on, you wanted my attention, right? I’m listening.”

He makes it a tradition that you have to come sit in his lap for your daily reports. he loves seeing your flustered face as you try to remember all the information you needed to tell him, directly to his stupid, smug face

[blackbird5154]

𖤐 Encyclopedia of Terzo 𖤐

I've been thinking a lot about how the personality of Papa III was created. Tobias set the basic framework, the archetype, the cliché from which he drew. But the real implementation of Papa was on stage, where his image developed through improvisation. Some things were conceived on purpose, some were invented on the spot, some came out unplanned, due to circumstances. Papa turned out to be as lively and unpredictable as life itself. In many senses, he lived on stage.

Thanks to the research of concerned fans, there is quite a lot of material. It occurred to me to collect them in one post for those who want to get acquainted with the canonical image of Terzo. This catalogue uses materials from two users, Cityofmeliora's and myself. You can use them for fanfiction or just for your own amusement. So, allow me to introduce Papa Emeritus III!

Cityofmeliora: Transcriptions and facts

Radley @cityofmeliora has an academic degree in Terzo Studies. He did a great job watching probably 100% of the Terzo videos and bringing us some interesting insights about his personality from the Terzo mines.

▸ notes / thoughts on Terzo's characterization (Terzo is so disappointed and depressed and i love him)

▸ Terzo's mom was mentioned twice

▸ quotes on Secondo and Terzo's age gap / the Emeritus brothers having different mothers

▸ TF on the archetype of Papa

▸ about Terzo's height...

▸ Terzo's sweet tooth 🍰🍫

▸ Secondo lied about being able to speak Swedish, and Terzo lied about *not* being able to speak Swedish

▸ according to the Nameless Ghouls, Terzo is better than Secondo because he has hair and is "less smelly" 😂😂

▸ TF breaks character a little too much and accidentally makes it canon that Terzo has a child 💀👶

▸ Who is Mysterious Spectre?

▸ transcript: Terzo's first concert - Linköping, Sweden (June 3, 2015)

▸ transcript: Sweden Rock Festival (June 4, 2015)

▸ Terzo lying about his knowledge of Swedish AGAIN!

▸ Terzo talking about his mom <3

▸ Papa Nihil taught his sons to sing

▸ Terzo hates it when people are bad at clapping 👏👏👏

▸ Terzo knows he's always yapping <3

▸ Terzo is hard of hearing 🦻

▸ Terzo did WHAT in Poland? 😳

▸ Terzo totally not bragging about his Grammy 🙄

▸ Terzo + children 🥰

▸ Terzo had eye infections???

▸ "And it is very important that you respect the fact that there are kids and there are"

▸ Terzo thinks 'Cirice' is a sad song

▸ Terzo getting angry

▸ Terzo's fucked up sore throat voice 🤒

▸ Terzo mentioning Secondo 😎

▸ Terzo mentions his parents 🧑‍🤝‍🧑

▸ Terzo + family 👪

▸ Terzo + being old 👴

▸ Terzo saying quesadillas are his favorite food 🧀

▸ Terzo is NOT a fluent / native Italian speaker 🤭🇮🇹

▸ Terzo + musical instruments 🎹🎸🥁🎺

Blackbird: Observations and analysis

My modest contribution to terzology was an attempt to summarise observations and look inside the head of the mysterious Papa III.

▸ Part 1: Terzo's responsible attitude to work

▸ Part 2: The jokes about height

▸ Part 3: The relationship between Terzo and Secondo

▸ Part 4: The ideas behind the birds and the bees speech

▸ Part 5: Terzo's other beliefs that he broadcast

▸ Part 6: Terzo and his loneliness

[kaszuma]

Acta, Non Verba | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 3 of "Certainly Yours"

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader

summary: Soshiro had never been good with his words. But you knew enough that he didn't need to say things out loud.

warnings: slightly suggestive. combat suit admiration.

wc: 2,697

--

note: dialogue is hard to write. So if it sounds weird and oddly paced sorry about that. Not proofread at all and have been busy with work

--

It had been days since you shared that chaste kiss with the Vice Captain of the Third Division. Soshiro Hoshina.

The image of both your lips under the stairs leading up to the Training room had been the only thing devouring your mind's eye as of late. And that memory alone was enough to keep you energetic for the rest of the fortnight after.

You remember it very clearly.

The way his calloused fingertips ran circles around the skin of your jaw. The steady breaths he took as if he too had been nervous about sharing your lips for the first time.

And although Soshiro had not shown an ounce of his nerves. Not a hint of his expressions had turned sour nor worried. Hinting no regrets at the actions that led up to that point.

And It had been made very apparent that he too craved to be near you, just as much you did for him. You sought after the lingering sensation of his touches. Your body magnets towards him when he tries to pull away. His bruised lips that had tasted like the bitter coffee of the early mornings, lingered on yours that had preferred the sweetness of something else. And that reminded you of all those sideway glances you'd do to the back of his head in the mess hall during the dinnertime.

Who would've thought that you'd end up kissing a man as respected as Soshiro Hoshina.

Sure, his way of kissing was a little sloppy for the most part. Likely from not having done it for so long. But it was far too gentle. Hungry even. Like a silent plea, begging you to never pull away from him. Like you'd disappear if he didn't hold you close enough. And you had reciprocated his eagerness with open arms. Showing the same amount of need to be in close proximity with him.

And since then?

Those one off glances that used to linger no more than a minute had now lasted far longer than it should have. And people have been starting to notice. Especially because Soshiro did not bother masking his intention of seeing you on a daily basis. Though no one had thought to ask, since the Vice Captain had always been an enigma to the common recruit. Not a stain on his record. And certainly not worth the risk of insubordination.

So it came to everyone's surprise when his usual routine had been replaced with an afternoon coffee break. Followed by hasty footsteps towards the research center which he had rarely visited beforehand. His direction? Straight to the repair rooms where your Lab had been located.

Soshiro had never been good with his words. But you knew enough that he didn't need to say things out loud.

And the moment the door had opened, you didn't even bother to look up from the blueprint you were tasked at reading up on. A smile already etched on your face as you knew who exactly appeared at your doorstep.

“Here for another maintenance check?” You quipped. Knowing how many times he had used that same excuse in a single week. And you hear that familiar cheeky chuckle of his. One that had been a common occurrence especially when he was off-duty.

“I can’t help but be thorough.” He shrugs, amusement in his voice. And you had pushed the blueprint away from your hands. Swiveling the chair that you sat on so that you can finally face him. Just in time to see Soshiro slowly shutting the door from behind him.

You clicked your tongue in mock disappointment. “Tut tut. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were slacking off, Vice Captain.”

“Then I guess you're my accomplice.” He replied.

Making careful strides to reach you. Hands slotted on the back of his waist as his gaze lingered down your own form. Clad in that snug pencil skirt that hugged the shape of your hips. Particularly admiring the way your skin disappeared underneath it. He tried not to make it too obvious however. He didn't come here just for that. At least not yet in that sense. He still had his wits about him. Even if you were a sight to behold.

But his expressions never gave way to his thoughts. Slotting himself just a few ways in front of you where his shadow had towered over your form.

“I assure ya that I won't be the only one getting into trouble when you're around.” Soshiro had replied. Pointing towards you as you let out a small but playful scoff.

“Well, I’ll save us the trouble then. How about you help me out with work? I've been meaning to ask one of the officers to beta test the new suit upgrades anyway.” You had smiled, matching the level of his banters. Your chin raised up slightly as you directed his attention to the side where a singular Combat Suit had been displayed.

And Soshiro tilts his head towards it. Raising his brow with a small hum.

“Hmm. If I help ya, will I get a reward for It?”

You had blinked a few times to rid yourself of the sudden warmth in your chest. Already in anticipation of what he was planning. Somewhat at least. And the timing had been perfect when you had been witness to the steady chuckles that left his lips.

Cheeky Bastard.

“Maybe.” You shrug. Glancing away from under his scrutiny. Cause God knows his gaze would’ve caught the way a smile had already etched on your lips.

“Quite a roundabout way of telling me you want a kiss, but alright.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. But this was a reply you had expected. And Soshiro had a way with reading you like a book without meaning to. “I’m not the one who's asking for a reward to begin with.”

“Acting shy now are we?” Soshiro had turned to face away from you. Already wasting no time as he shrugged off the standard uniform jacket he wore. Revealing the black compression suit he always had on underneath it. A rare sight since he had always been seen in the standard military uniform that had hid his figure very well.

But with that tight shirt on?

It felt rude just to look. Especially when your thoughts couldn't help but sink down into the swells of admiration. That was indeed beyond the precipes of the respect and hard work that the Vice Captain put into his training.

“Where was all that confidence the last time I took your breath away?”

And you hold in the urge to smile. Slightly glad that he was already busying himself by wearing the rigged combat suit. Lest he'd see your cheeks dusted with pink.

Anytime you glance at his lips, you're only reminded of the time he had so easily pulled you in. Leaving your mouth a raging red and your breaths labored. A thought that makes your heart flutter at the mere memory of it, and it feels as if he holds a sense of power over you. A reminder that he could do such a thing again. If you wanted him to.

The moment the suit had completely molded against Soshiro's body. Your eyes couldn't look away at the density of his build. The way it had traced the taciturn abdomen which had not been so noticeable until now. Often hidden away in the confines of his uniform. The compression shirt had proven enough coverage. But with the combat suit it had always had a way to mold itself into the body like it was a second skin. And somehow, it has always been a magnet for your eyes to feast.

Especially so when Soshiro had fit into it so perfectly.

“You should take a picture, it'll last longer.” He had spoken. Not realizing that he had long since turned to your direction after stretching his arms to adjust to the familiar tightness of the suit. And you couldn't help but roll your eyes this time.

“Really?” Playful sarcasm dripped from your voice. “Thank you for pointing that out, Vice Captain. If not for you I wouldn't have known.”

The mock dramatics were light. Her usual feist had not gone away it seems. And it only makes Soshiro chuckle. “I think I'm beginning to rub off on ya.”

“I suppose that's a good thing. It makes it easier to handle your stellar personality. Now hold still.” You smile. Making your way towards him until you were mere inches apart from one another. Your hand likewise had pressed its firm palm on the back of his shoulder blades. Passed the metal plates that had the symbol of Japan’s Defense Force on it.

You slowly circled around him, hand dragging along the bio weapon that had covered his skin. A silent reminder that he had worn this countless times into the field. A layer of advanced chainmail that had protected Soshiro in the case of a Kaiju sneaking up from behind him. It was impressive the way he looked better in it than the rest of the Officers you've seen wearing it. Or maybe that was just your preferences talking.

Your hands feel the steady ridges of the muscle fibers that make up for his armor. Eventually reaching the familiar metallic ends that traced the curve of Soshiro’s spine. Tracing your fingers from the nape of his neck, down to the tailbone of his waist. And he tries his best not to shudder in response. A sharp inhale is all you hear as he managed to turn his head away with slightly reddened ears.

“You're taking your sweet time. Any reason why?” He had breathed, trying to focus his mind on something else. And not the sweetness of your fingertips drawing honey out of his very being.

“I can't help but be thorough. ” Your lips quirked up, repeating the same exact words he had reasoned moments prior. And he held back a dry chuckle. Feeling the sudden way you had pressed firmly on a particular spot that had him flinching. “Don't tell me you're ticklish Vice Captain?”

And he sighs. Shoulders tense as your hand traces upward, back unto the nape of his neck, where his hair had met his skin.

“Ticklish is probably not the word I'd use. But let's go with that.” He spoke in a lower octave than he intended. And that voice of his felt a little strained. Making you smile, enjoying his scrutiny just for a little bit. His small twitches are something you hadn't expected from him at all. And it was nice trying to peel off layers of things you had never seen Soshiro in before. And you had a feeling that only you had been blessed to witness such discrepancies of that perfect expression on his face.

It was beginning to crack because of your touches.

You had turned back to face his front, hands placed against the swell of his waist. Which was sturdier than she thought. “Does it hurt when I press here?”

“No.”

“And here?” You had moved your hand to slide up onto a layer of plating on his chest. And you hear the way his soft sighs had turned a little shakier than normal. His hands immediately reaching to grab your wrist before it could move up further his neck, where his skin disappeared under the suit.

“...No”

“Ya’ know, why do I get the feeling that this suit isn't broken at all?” He looks you in the eyes. That smirk of his had been riddled with a new expression. As if he had just been provoked in some way.

“Maybe because it isn't?” A sweet smile etched on your lips made him chuckle. A small hum of disapproval had made it clear in his tone.

“I worry that you put so much faith in me.”

His voice had been all but a whisper this time. A deep rumble that had shot straight through her ear and neck as he took careful steps in front of her. Walking forwards as you take adequate steps baback. Until eventually, the back of your waist hits the surface of the small desk. Effectively allowing him to cage you in when his hands had grabbed the surface of the table beside your hips.

It was spacious enough for you to pull away. Should you want that. But as usual, you had only leaned forward. Open to his advances that you had once witnessed before. In fact letting him do as he pleased since you had rightfully poked the places you knew that would get him riled up. And despite that steady smile on his face, she could see how his lips form a thin line. A crack on his usual facade that she wanted to see more and more as days passed by.

“You should be careful when you're handlin’ me alone like this.”

“Why is that?” You tilt your head. And amusement flashes by his face.

“Because with or without the suit. Touchin’ me that way could lead me to do a lot of things to you.” He spoke softly, moving his lips much closer to your ear.

And although your breath had caught on from your throat. You only move in to press your cheek against his. “Things like?”

Soshiro chuckles. Leaning down to brush his lips against your jaw. The fan of his breath makes your heart pound against your ribcage. “You're playing a very dangerous game, sweetheart.”

“Well I won't know if you don't tell me.” you replied back. Likely a challenge to Soshiro's own words. Not at all rejecting his advances.

“I'd rather show ya’ instead.” He smiles.

And without as much as a thought to hesitate, his hand moved automatically. Already moving to cup your cheek with the warmth of his gloved palm. His eyes closed as your lips clashed against his. Sweet as it may. It had a slight hint of deviance in its movements. And you feel the steady bite of his teeth pulling at your bottom lip before it returns to bruising those pretty lips of yours. A warning perhaps that indicated more to come if she kept pushing him over the edge like that.

You shuddered. Moving closer to reciprocate his kisses. Hands already moving from his shoulders to his neck, nails gently raking to the back of his head. Feeling the soft stubble of his purple hair. Softer than she had initially thought they would feel.

Your chest heaved as he pulled away. Drawing a breathless sigh from you, as if he himself sucked all the breath out from that kiss alone. And it leaves your cheeks heated. Leaning against him to balance yourself with paced inhales that made you feel the pounding of your heart ringing in your ears.

Soshiro couldn't help but admire the state he put you in. His hands moved to grab your waist to let you lean against him if you wanted to. And he couldn't help but move his lips down to the crook of your neck. Pressing light kisses on your pulse that he had assumed had been working hard at keeping you breathing for him. A silent apology for leaving you in such a state.

“That satisfy your curiosity?” He mumbled, and you could feel the smile on his lips against your skin. Closing your eyes as you received his oddly uncharacteristic gesture.

A gesture you had understood despite it not being addressed. You were used to his off behavior. More so when he refused to elaborate on certain things you know he's speaking through his actions. And that was enough for now.

You didn't need to understand everything. Just the things that matter. Just the things he wants you to know right now. And his kisses had been enough to convey that thought. Your reply had not hesitated when you wrapped him into a tight embrace.

“Very.” And you had a feeling that he was willing to show you more, if you let him.

And that had been enough for you. Even if he never was good with his words.

[soiwj]

Tasty Treat

Arlecchino x fem!baker!reader

Link to part 2

Very ooc arlecchino

(i dont know her character wel but she's hot, so i thought I'd give it a shot)

Planning on doing research on her though!!

Fuckk i love women omg

Second mini-fic ever how exciting!!

Please request stuff here!! It's hard to come up with prompts ;-;

I wrote this at 3 am so excuse the lack of structure

You start your usual routine of setting everything up for the day, although today is a bit special. Your bakery doesn't have many customers, considering the place it's in is quite remote. A peaceful forrest that's still in fontaine borders yet far away from any other buildings or people.

You chose this place because you appreciate the beauty and peace that nature brings you. The birds whisteling in the morning, the foxes chittering, the sound of tree leaves rustling. Yet that peace comes with quite a heft price. Loneliness. Besides the old lady that lives in a small village near the forrest, you don't get much human interaction. Even though your bakery is quite big and fits lots of people, you don't really have a lot of customers to share it with.

A week ago, you received a business offer from the house of the hearth. Since the bakery near the orphanage closed down, they don't have any establishments providing them things like breakfast treats and pastries. That's why they're employing you. The contract has you preparing and delivering the food to the hearth.

Even though this seemed like quite a lot of work, you accepted. I mean, how could you not? You get to make pasteries for adorable kids, making them smile, AND you get paid? This is a dream come true. After years of sulking alone in the damp forest serving a customer here and there, you get the privilege of a constant source of profit.

After hours of baking, your tired eyes look at the required amount of food stated in the order, and you realize that this is only enough for the kids. How strange that the boss herself did not order anything. Does she eat breakfast somewhere else? Nevertheless, you decide to make something anyway.

After packing up the orders, you start walking towards the orphanage, barely holding on to the several boxes stacked on top of eachother.

As you arrive, you set the boxes down and ring the orphanage's doorbell. An earie ring echoes from inside.

A tall woman opens the door. Her snow white hair with the occasional black streak looks down at you from the doorframe. Her brows furrow slightly at the sight of you, and the boxes.

"Are you alone?" She asks, you're confused, to say the least. "...yes?" You mutter. "How come you've managed to carry all those boxes on your lonesome?" Her sultry voice sounds out as she crosses her arms in amusement, holding back a grin. Before you can answer, you hear who you assume are the kids, walking slowly towards the persumed dining room.

"I'll help you with these," Arlecchino says curtly as she picks up a few boxes to bring to the kitchen. You pick up the last remaining boxes as you tail behind her.

As you and Arlecchino start unpacking and putting the treats on plates, you can't help but think of how different you expected Arlecchino to be. Clearly, her reputation precedes her. All the while your mind is drifting off to several different subjects, you don't notice the red-crossed eyes staring your way.

After the children finish eating, you stay a while, wanting to hear their opinion on the treats. As you basically survey them, you take the time to get to know some of them. Playing games with them and answering their unending questions.

As you realise you've overstayed your welcome, you say goodbye to the kids and quickly leave the orphanage. On your way back, you reach your hand into your purse, trying to take out your cherry flavored gum. You eventually find it but with it a little pink box brushes your hand. The cookie, you forgot to give it to Arlecchino.

Sat in her office, Arlecchino can't stop thinking about the kind-hearted baker she employed. Just looking at her interacting with the kids made something burn up inside of her. A little warmth that warms her cold, unfeeling heart. She looks out the window, hoping to have some reprieve from this strange feeling. Yet it seems the archons are against her wishes as she sees a certain baker running towards the orphanage. Almost tripping on her way. Even though it is foolish to entertain feelings for such a seemingly simple creature, Arlecchino can't help but grin at another interaction with her. Usually, she doesn't like to play with her food. But this time, she might make you an exception.

You stumble into the building as one of the kids, whom you now know is called Tealus, opens the door for you. With the pink box in hand, you stride through the halls looking for Arlecchino's office. As you ask one of the children, they point to the dark, long hallway without windows. How fitting. Your heels clicking softly as you walk over to her black office double doors. This place seems more like a villain's lair than an orphanage to you now, but you digress.

You knock 5 times in a specific pattern you were used to as a child when you hear a stern "Come in." You pull the golden doorhandle as the office window light starts flooding the hallway. You quickly close the door behind you as you step closer to her desk.

She does not look up from the paperwork on her desk as she multitasks without problem. "Why are you still here, baker." Just because she approves of your bond with the kids does not mean she will treat you differently from other people. "I saw there was nothing for you on the order list, so I made you something." You say proudly. You start rambling as you explain how you forgot to give it to her during breakfast.

She interrupts you as she reaches out her hand. "Can I see it?" You're flustered as you quickly hand her the box. She places it down gently on her desk as she lifts the packaging. Facing Arlecchino is a cookie with a white base, decorated with a black and red spider on top. "How adorable," Arlecchino mutters softly. Your soft 'huh' drives her back to reality as she responds. "I'm not very fond of sweet treats. I prefer savory things." She almost chuckles at the sight of your worried eyes locking with hers. "I can make you something else if you'd like? Hmm, although I can't think of many savory pasteries..." As you start naming some options, you reach for the cookie, trying to throw it away, but Arlecchino's quick reflexes hold your wrist before you can get close. "I thought you didn't like it?" Your confusion radiating off of you. "I never said such a thing. I merely said I prefer savory treats." She softly lets your wrist go as she stores the cookie on a desk extension behind her.

From then on, this has become routine, although some things have changed throughout the weeks. Instead of delivering the food alone, Arlecchino stops by early in the morning to help you carry them. Sometimes, it results in small talk when you haven't finished packing the orders yet.

Usually, she doesn't speak much and lets you do all the talking. You fear she's getting annoyed from your constant ramblings, but unbeknownst to you, she loves it when you talk about your interests and things you love.

This was a bit short, but if you wanna see a specific trope with this situation, you can req anything you wantt!!

Might do a part 2 of this idk yet

[queenshelby]

Chemical Reactions (P. 4)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 2,567

Note: The fic is spoiler free and my own fantasy and imagination. It is not historically and scientifically accurate.

Previous Parts: 1; 2; 3

Two weeks later…

Just over two weeks had passed since you took up your scholarship at Berkley and it has been seven days since you began researching for your thesis about dark matter under the supervision of J Robert Oppenheimer who, unfortunately for you, appeared to be somewhat preoccupied with more important matters these days.

For the weeks and days, he had been visited by a man of statue who appeared to be a general of some sort and, whilst you were curious about this man’s visits to Berkley, you already some idea about what this may be about.

For months there had been some talks in the scientific community about the fission reaction of atoms which ultimately gave rise to the possible creation of a new innovative bomb. It was only a matter of time until the army caught on to this idea and you knew from your time at Harvard that several professors had already been lobbying for an atomic bomb project in this regard.

You thus assumed that, finally, the program was going to implemented, especially since now Germany had just invaded Poland. You knew that, an atomic bomb like this could end the war and your presumption was that the army was recruiting scientists, including J Robert Oppenheimer, to build this powerful nuclear weapon before the Germans did.

As such, you did not bother him much these days with minuscule issues about dark matter and Dr Oppenheimer certainly kept to himself whenever he could until Tuesday evening came around and he finally decided to check on you in the lab.

Your POV

Unlike your very own professor, in the lab, you were an ace and experimenting to prove a theory someone else or yourself has come up with excited you a lot even though the theoretical part of physics was what you desired to be involved in the most.

Unlike many other students in your department at Berkley, you had a high attention to detail when it came to experimental physics and since working with hazardous chemicals at high or low pressures required some planning and special precautions, you enjoyed to use the laboratory after everyone had left.

You often spent hours in the lab following your lectures for the day and today was not any different when, at 7 o’clock at night, you were still occupied by your attempts to create a chemical reaction similar to that of a star exploding.

Thus, when Dr Oppenheimer approached you from behind, just as you put the centrifuge you were using under negative pressure and connected it the exhaust system, you startled.

You were concentrating too hard and did not expect to see anyone at this hour in the laboratory, especially not him, your very own supervisor who had been too busy for your research in the past two weeks.

“Holy shit, you startled me” you thus spat as you dropped one of the glass vials on to the concrete floor which, luckily for you, did not contain anything but some pH solution.

“I don’t believe that I ever heard you swear like this, Miss Y/LN” Dr Oppenheimer said with some amusement in his voice before gathering a small broom and helping you to clean up the mess you made because of him, which was a gesture you appreciated.

“My apologies Dr Oppenheimer. It’s just, you don’t seem to be here often these days and I am behind with my research already, so…” you stammered as, together, you cleaned up the broken glass and, before you realised it, his hand was on top of yours, caressing it gently.

Immediately, you felt that same tingling again on your skin which, just a few weeks ago, you felt on your neck when Dr Oppenheimer adjusted the clip on the back of your necklace. It was an intense and rather pleasurable sensation which, ultimately, made you blush.

“There is no need to apologise. If anyone had to apologise, it should be me, for neglecting my engagement as your thesis supervisor. Unfortunatly, there have been some more pressing matters that required my attention” Dr Oppenheimer then said as he was letting go of your hand and raising back to his feet before helping you up as well by using his right hand.

“I figured” you barely stammered while allowing Dr Oppenheimer to pull you to your feet before, with a slight blush, walking towards the utilities room to dispose of the broken glass vail and to obtain a new one.

“You figured?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked somewhat confused by your statement as he followed you into the utilities room.

“I have seen an army general visiting your office twice last week and my presumption is that you have been recruited to build this goddamn bomb, which every physicist in this country has been talking about for months” you asserted with little to no reluctance before also voicing your concerns about it. “Do you really think that this is a good idea?” you wanted to know, seeing that such bomb could easily be a device of mass destruction and, just as you spoke the words, Robert pushed you further into the corner of the utilities room while closing the door shut behind you.

You then suddenly felt his warm but strong arm pull you against him before covering your mouth with the palm of his other hand.

“Shh” he whispered before shaking his head, indicating for you to stop talking and, by that point, your heart was pounding hard with adrenaline.

He must have thought that someone was listening in on you and presumed that the laboratory was bugged by government officials, but none of this mattered to you now as you felt heat everywhere now while his body was touching yours.

The feeling of his body against yours was so intense that you couldn’t even murmur a response into his palm and thus you simply nodded, which is when he spoke again.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, but you sure have a creative imagination” Dr Oppenheimer said, brushing off what you had alleged while still holding his arms around you and embracing the sparks of electricity emanating from each other's bodies.

“Now, about your research on dark matter, how does Sunday sound for a catch up?” he then asked as you looked up into his bright blue eyes while he looked down at you with a look of concern and a hint of desire.

“Sunday?” you murmured in response as you could not even manage to speak proper words just yet as you stood there like this for what felt like hours, but it could not even have been more than a minute or two.

“Yes. Sunday. I am away until then” Dr Oppenheimer then said as his arms finally fell from around you and he cleared his throat.

“And, I am leaving for a period of two weeks after that for which Dr O’Connell will be taking over as your supervisor. He will be a good mentor for you but I want to see where you are at with your research before he gets involved” Dr Oppenheimer then announced which broke your trance and you quickly stepped back, almost tripping over your own feet.

“Dr O’Connell?” you asked with surprise while you looked down at your feet, trying to avoid those magnetic eyes of J Robert Oppenheimer.

“Yes. I am afraid so” he confirmed, which is when you finally managed to look at his face again. His eyes were clouded with indescribable emotions and, clearly, so were yours.

“I understand” you eventually confirmed nervously. “Sunday it is but, since the university facilities will be closed, we will need to meet somewhere else” you managed to point out while your eyes began to water slightly from the overwhelmingness of everything that just happened, making you look like a fool.

Dr Oppenheimer, of course, noticed and his face changed from indiscernible to concern once more.

“You will do just fine Miss Y/LN. I have no doubt about it” he reassured you before suggesting the library as a meeting place which meant that, unbeknownst to him, you would have had to copy your calculations from your big chalkboard in your room to several pieces of paper.

“How about the Chevalier residence instead?” you thus suggested, causing Robert to furrow his eyebrows.

“I do not consider this to be a good idea Miss Y/LN. It would be highly inappropriate” Dr Oppenheimer pointed out, but you interrupted him.

“Haakon and Barbara are in San Jose for the weekend. You are friend of them both, so I have no doubt that they wouldn’t mind you visiting me in their absence. That is, of course, if your wife allows it” you explained with a little smirk on your face and your sudden sense of confidence surprised Dr Oppenheimer.

“My wife too, is away, staying with her mother for the time being” he explained before agreeing to your suggestion, but you would not just leave it that.

“Did you and your wife have a fight?” you asked out of curiosity, which is when Dr Oppenheimer shook his head and chuckled.

“We always fight, but that is not the reason. She is staying with her mother because I am busy and am travelling a lot these days and she needs help with our son, Peter” he then explained before stepping away from you again, increasing the gap between you.

“Now, I am afraid, I must go. I have another pressing engagement this evening” he told you and you had a sneaky suspicion that your professor was making the most of the time his wife was away.

“No doubt you do, professor. I shall see you on Sunday” you said with a slight chuckle, seeing that you already knew about his numerous affairs, including his on and off relations with Jean Tatlock.

Robert’s POV

It was later that same day, at around 8 o’clock that Robert went to a place that he had not visited in about three weeks, namely the apartment of Jean Tatlock’s in downtown San Francisco.

Ever since meeting you, he avoided her and whilst he did so subconsciously, he gave it some thought after Jean had addressed the fact that he had been ignoring her calls.

After almost three weeks, she now expressed a great desire to see him again and, considering her poor mental state, Robert reluctantly agreed.

As always, Robert brought her flowers which she disposed of rather quickly and just as she asked him inside, Robert began to explain to her that he was not there to see her for the usual reasons.

This was meant to be his final visit and he knew that, by ending their affair, he would likely break her heart. She would be devastated and that was something that concerned him a lot.

“I am not here for that Jean” Robert thus said just as Jean attempted to kiss him in a haste while pulling against his tie and suit jacket.

“And yet, you finally answered my call. Why?” she asked almost angrily, rolling her eyes before pushing Robert aside and pouring herself a drink. Clearly, she was confused and Robert had to provide an explanation to her.

“Because we need to talk Jean. This has been going on for far too long” he told her while adjusting his tie and jacket again. His facial expression was more serious than usual and that, in itself, concerned Jean.

“Oh my god Robert, after all those years you want to end it?” she asked as tears shot into the corners of her eyes. She shook her head in disbelieve and then smashed the glass she was holding onto the hard wooden floor, spilling her drink along with it.

“Jean, please…” Robert said calmly, trying to console her by reaching for her hands, but Jean pulled away.

“There is someone else, isn’t there?” she asked angrily, causing Robert to sigh deeply.

“I am a married man Jean, so yes, there is someone else, my wife” Robert tried to explain but Jean shook her head angrily and pointed her finger at him.

“No Robert! I am not talking about your wife and neither are you” she said sternly as slowly, but surely, her emotions got the better of her. She began to yell at Robert and, seeing that Jean was so upset, he did not know what else to say to her. He was lost for words.

“Who is she?” she then wanted to know and this is when she received yet another response from her lover that both, confused her and made her fume with rage.

“She is a woman who will help me change the world” Robert acknowledged somewhat reluctantly, causing the tears in her eyes to increase rapidly.

“You know that I love you, Robert. In fact, I never stopped loving you even after you married Katherine" she pleaded while trying to comprehend the situation. For years, Robert had maintained his affair to Jean even after he married Kitty and now this was going to be over because of someone else?

"And I have loved you too, but you have destroyed that love for me Jean. You pushed me away repeatedly and now I am finally it. I moved on” Robert said a little too honestly and with a lack of emotion in his voice, causing Jean’s reaction to worsen.

"I have said I was sorry, Robert!” Jean screamed almost hysterically while stepping one step towards Robert and pushing her hands against his chest, forcing him against the wall.

“So am I Jean. I truly am” he told her while cupping her face. Her tears were clouding her eyes and he sealed her faith with one final kiss before leaving her apartment for the last time, until she would call him again several months later.

Note: Unlike in real life, Jean will not kill herself in this fic. In fact, she will reappear in a few later parts, causing some havoc for the reader.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[pars-ley]

Title: I...do? (part two) Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female reader Summary: With your imminent fake wedding only weeks away, it was time for Mr. Kim to meet your parents. How will he be received and can you keep up the charade? Genre: Enemies to lovers au / CEO au / fake dating au / colleagues to lovers au / co-workers to lovers / series / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 18+ (future chapters will be NSFW) Warnings (per chapter): Minor mention of assault and harassment in the past / Rude Taehyung / Brief mention of death of a family member W/C: 4.7k Banner: @shadowkoo <3 Beta: @casuallyimagining thank you! Notes: Here’s part two, hope you all enjoy! Thank you so much for all the lovely comments, they have really been helping with motivation. If you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know! Taglist: @taebae19 @ladyartemesia @taestannie @somewhereofftheglobe @m-1234 @siadreams @moonchild1 @taebangtanbabe @leedoesntknaur @11thenightwemet11 @chickenscoups @stellamalonesolaria @taiwan0618

Friday:

"Well the good news is that I know most of the answers to these questions about you," you mumble, flicking through the pages of research you've done, to prepare on what to expect from your upcoming interview, "bad news is, you have to learn all this about me in two weeks."

He snatches the papers out of your hands and flicks through the questions. "You know all the answers to these?" He asks incredulously, shifting in his seat.

"Unfortunately, yes." You glance out of the train window, watching the scenery fly past you, feeling an odd sense of calm as you journey to your parents, preparing to lie to them. Your throat tightens at the thought.  

“Ok,” he interrupts your increasingly chaotic thoughts, “answer this one, ‘does your spouse have any tattoos?’”

“Yes, I'm pretty sure you do.”

He looks at you incredulously, “Pretty sure?”

Nodding, you continue, “You had a call from a studio a while back, wanting you to confirm your appointment. Naturally, I looked it up and they specialise in tattoo removal, but you asked me to cancel the appointment. Therefore, I'm pretty sure you've still got it.”

He stares at you blankly before leaning back in his seat, smirking, “Ok then, miss know-it-all, what's the tattoo of?” 

“I'm guessing some kind of creature, like a frog.”

His body tenses and the smug look on his face vanishes, confirming you're right and that only irritates him, judging by the hard stare he throws your way.

“How would you even know that?”

You hesitate, knowing he won't want to hear it and it will only make him more annoyed. “Judging by the quote you received about the removal it's something small and in their correspondence they mentioned green being the hardest colour to remove.” You pause, unsure whether to carry on but his pointedly arched brow indicates that he won't drop this. “Two years ago, I was helping you arrange your grandmother's funeral and you wanted an arrangement of flowers in the shape of a frog, insisting they were her favourite. I put two and two together and assumed you'd got it on her behalf.”

Glancing over at him, his brows knit together pained and you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, sensing you’d overstepped the mark of his personal boundaries. He avoids your eyes and focuses back on the sheets of questions, clearing his throat.

"We need to figure out the answers to these ones." You point at a set on one of the pages, attempting to have a swift change of subject and he nods scanning through them.

"What do you like the most about him/her?" he reads aloud.

You scoff and mumble, "when he's silent and very far away," completely ignoring the deadpan look he gives you.

"When was your wife's last menstrual period?" he gasps with a grimace. "Is that really something a husband would know?" 

You can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yes, probably."

"When did you last have intimate relations?" he almost squeaks. You notice with amusement the subtle pink shade his cheeks have turned.

"Might be better to say something outlandish to Mr Jung, like, 'in the elevator on our way up here.'"

His mouth pops open as he stares at your face, recognising how serious you are. "Don't be absurd."

You shrug, "just a suggestion." As you turn away and gaze out, yet again, at the familiar scenery from the window, a sense of home and dread fill you at once. You missed your family, of course but you didn't miss this small town and you were certainly not excited about lying to them all weekend but you expel that from your mind and focus on one stressful task at a time.

Soon enough you are at the station, a heavy rock in your stomach weighing you down and making your feet slow and sluggish as you gather your belongings and exit the train. 

"So, this is where you grew up?" Mr. Kim asks, looking at the shops and townsfolk with a slight grimace. He climbs into the cab waiting to take you on the short journey to your parents house, all the while looking out the window, he adds, "looks like hell on earth."

You ignore his remark, fixated on the buildings as they race past, memories bombarding you like an intruder you can't escape. Your mind stays trapped, witnessing every replay of details you've pushed aside for the last three years, most of them involving one person in particular and you hope to god you don’t run into him…

"Is this the right place?" Mr Kim nudges your side, snapping you out of it and bringing you back to the present. Your gaze focuses on the three story house staring back at you, with the porch swing out the front and fresh homemade lemonade already placed on the table on the porch. Your family home. 

"Yep, come on." Sliding out, you pay the cab driver.

It's all too quiet as you pull your suitcases along the pathway, your eyes darting around for any signs of your parents. You focus on calming your thumping heart to a normal speed, preparing yourself to lie to the faces of the people you care about the most.

"You're here!" 

You look up at your mother’s squeal, as she runs out to greet you before being pulled into her tight embrace. Relaxing instantly into the soft comfort of her frame and the scent of her perfume welcoming you back and making you feel like a child again. 

"I missed you so much." She whispers, giving you an extra squeeze. 

"Missed you too, ma." 

"Oh, well, hello there." Your mum releases you and quickly turns her attention to Mr Kim. "I am very sad that we have not met sooner…" she looks over at you, an approving smirk etched into her mouth.

"Taehyung, Kim Taehyung." he says, straight faced and shaking her hand like a formal business meeting.

You watch her face fall as she connects the dots. "As in…her boss, Mr Kim?" 

He gives a curt nod, "yes, one and the same." 

She gives a very false smile and nods. "Ah, I see." Turning to you, you're penetrated by the glare in her eyes and inwardly roll yours, knowing all too well that she may despise your boss more than you do. Mentally, you prepare yourself for the imminent lecture. "Please, have a seat and pour yourself a glass of lemonade, while my daughter helps me in the kitchen." she says over her shoulder as she ushers you through the porch door.

As soon as she has dragged you through the house, satisfied that she's far enough away from your guests ears, she spins on you. "What on earth is going on? You're dating your boss! Have you not learned anything being away from home? That is not the way you get ahead in your career."

That slaps you in the face like a wet fish. "Wait, ma-"

"I thought you couldn't stand him? After all the things you've told me about him. You're a smart girl, what are you thinking!?" 

"Ma!" you shout, interrupting her tirade. "I'm not dating him for my career."

No, just planning on marrying him to stop him being deported in exchange for a promotion. The rock in the pit of your stomach has well and truly settled.

You take a deep breath as your mother watches you with careful eyes. "Something has just changed, I can't explain it but one moment I hated him, the next I was…" you struggle to find the right word.

Your mother's face softens, "I understand." 

Confusion marres your brow at the sudden switch of her mood. "I was the same with your father, bless him. He was head over heels for me and I just wasn't interested. I was looking for someone more...exciting."

Seeing your mother get lost in her own memories makes you smile but hearing this revelation is definitely a first. You’ve lived your whole life thinking your parents were an old fashioned case of love at first sight and instant soulmates, turns out that wasn't the case. 

"I was foolish, one day, he came into the store I worked in - I was there on my own and having some trouble with a couple of guys - and your dad stepped in. He punched one of them in the face and broke his nose. Let me tell you they left pretty quickly after that, and from that moment on I realised how lucky I was to have a man like your dad interested in me. He's been there for me through everything since."

You smile at the dreamy look in her eyes. 

"Is that my little girl?" Your dad's voice steals your attention, as you're pulled into his warm embrace. "Let me look at you." He holds you out at arms length, studying you with a big grin plastered across his face. "Just as beautiful as always." He whispers, planting a big kiss on your cheek before giving you another squeeze. 

"Ma was just telling me about the time you punched a guy in the face for her." 

"I sure did, harassing your mother in such a fashion, the disrespect…he needed to be taught a lesson."

They kiss each other tenderly and you avert your eyes, ignoring the pang in your chest to have that with someone one day. Realisation dawning on you that you're marrying for no other reason than blackmail and a business transaction. Sadness and disappointment in yourself threatens to overwhelm you.

"So where's this fella of yours then?" your dad asks, his arms still pinning your mother to his side.

"Brace yourself, honey...it's her boss." 

"I thought you were bringing your boyfriend?" confusion wrinkles his forehead as he looks between you and your mother. 

"She did, dear." your mother replies, as she busy's herself with arranging a plate of fresh fruit.

"You brought your boss and your boyfriend?" 

“For goodness sake.” she sighs, exasperated.

“One and the same, dad.” you smile fondly, realising how much you'd missed them both, your dad in particular.

He looks around bewildered for a moment, “I thought you hated your boss?”

"I do, I mean, I did." you add, swallowing nervously, nothing gets past your dad at the best of times and lying to him now feels like stabbing yourself in your own gut and twisting the knife.

"Come on, we've kept him outside on his own for long enough, stop being rude." your mother ushers you both outside, smacking you on the bottom as you go and making you laugh.

Your dad wastes no time in shaking his hand and introducing himself with his signature beaming grin, as you all sit around the table on the porch. You could see him reading everything about your boss, from his body language to his facial expressions, you almost felt pity for Mr. Kim...almost. That is, until you hear him say the words you were not yet ready or prepared to tell your parents.

Complete silence has beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck, as you glare furiously at your boss.

“I’m sorry, did I hear that correctly,” your mother asks mechanically, “the two of you are engaged?”

You swallow the lump of anxiety and panic and put on your best smile. “We were going to wait to announce it to you both,” you say, trying not to grit your teeth with fury, “but yes, we’re getting married.”

Your mum is instantly tugging you up and into an excited hug before diving onto Mr. Kim’s lap and pulling him into a deathly tight embrace. The way his eyes bulge out of his sockets with surprise has you biting your lip to hide your laugh as you enjoy the awkwardness he very clearly feels.

Your dad’s reaction, however, causes bile to rise up into your throat and leave a burning trail in its wake with his stern glare at your fiancé. He looks over at you with worried eyes and you blink away the tears that threaten beneath the surface. He places a hand on top of yours and pats it, before getting up and heading silently inside the house. The urge to throw up is almost overwhelming, as your stomach seems to sink into the ground under your feet. All the while, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. The child in you wants to run to him, own up and tell him the truth, while begging for his forgiveness but the adult in you knows you have to bite your tongue and stay strong, you’ve made your choice and it's too late to back out now.

Your mum is quick to follow him, quietly smiling her congratulations and disappearing, leaving the two of you alone. Your head snaps up to him. “What in the holy fuck was that?”

He shrugs. “We came here to tell your parents we’re getting married. We’ve done that, now we can leave.”

If you weren’t so furious, your mouth would have hung open in shock. “We agreed that we would be here for the weekend.”

He clenches his jaw as he looks out into the neighbourhood, “that was before I realised what type of place you grew up in. You can’t expect me to stay here in the middle of nowhere, do you even get cell service out here?” he pulls out his phone and holds it up in the air. “ I bet there isn’t a decent hotel anywhere near this tiny town, either.”

You move to the seat next to him and lower your voice, “If you want me to marry you, don’t disrespect my family. We are staying here and you’re going to shut up and deal with it, you got it?”

He stares you down for a moment before you watch the slight resolve soften his glare. “Fine.”

You relax slightly in your seat. “I know this may be impossible for you but you need to try to get my dad to like you if you want this wedding to happen smoothly.”

He scoffs, “how can I get someone to like me?”

You shrug, “I can’t help you, I’ve known you for nearly three years now and I still don’t like you and my dad is a lot harder to please than I am, believe me.” 

The evening passes slowly after your dad drives down to the local bar without saying a word to either of you. Your mother makes excuses and apologies but you know him well enough to know it’s because he doesn’t approve of your decision.

Dinner goes by in a blur, you and your mother talk about the wedding, you're having to make most of it up on the spot, and pray Mr. Kim keeps quiet, so as not to say anything rude or off putting. Your mother seems to have taken a slight shine to him, goodness, knows why.

“Ok, your room is all ready for you,” your mother says, leading you up the stairs. “I’ve only tidied it a bit, I’ve tried to keep everything where you left it.”

You smile at your parents sentiment. “Where will Taehyung be sleeping?”

She laughs, “with you, of course.” she turns back to him. “I assure you, I’m not as old fashioned as my daughter seems to think.”

You cannot hide your shock as you argue, “but that was always the rule!”

“For your last boyfriend, yes, I didn’t trust his intentions and look how right I turned out to be.”

You are silenced by the pain of the memory, wading out of the dark cloud that threatens to envelope you. Forcing it aside, you are transported back a few years seeing your old room. Everything, even the posters, are just where you left it. Your mother says goodnight and closes the door behind her, leaving you two alone and in the shadow of night. 

“Good grief,” his voice sounds beside you. “Lord of the Rings, really?” He asks, staring at the Fellowship of the Ring movie poster.

“They’re great movies.” you retort, rifling through your luggage for pyjamas.

“Why am I not surprised? You know, they did start off as books. Not that I expect you to have read them, they are very challenging.”

You march off into the bathroom hugging your toothbrush. “Shows what you know. I’ve read the books more times than I can count,” looking back at him heading towards the bed, you add, “and I don’t know what ideas you’ve got but you are sleeping on the floor.” The sound of the door slamming behind you, echoes in the bathroom as you collapse against it wanting nothing more than to smother him with a pillow and bury his body in the garden. How could he possibly be likeable to anyone? How could you two pull this off? You’re not sure it’s possible but you were in too far to turn back now. You had to give this all you could, whether you liked it or not.

[bioethicists]

responding to this with my shitty redaction because i'm not comfortable posting obvious bait with people's names in them (particularly dead names) but i just wanted to point out the ways in which this ask is prototypical bait written to purposefully generate drama or controversy (idk if this is in a kiwifarms trolling with right wing motives sense or an 'i love drama' person) by trying to appeal to online leftist culture/the fear of being 'problematic'. i see ppl fall for this constantly + i need people to start learning to recognize the signs instead of either engaging or using this as evidence that leftists are stupid/petty/hypocritical (which many of us are, but in much less amusing ways, unfortunately)

the implication that there is a single founder of the "neurodiversity movement" + that evoking this movement at all (which i don't do + i think it's actually pretty evident that my politics are distinct from the much more bioessentialist politics of those who prefer that term, which is part of what led me to conclude that this is a copypasta) is supporting the founder. tracing a broad social concept to a single individual, then disparaging that individual as morally unsound (by evoking other explosive, petty pieces of discourse, like baeddalism + transandrophobia) in order to provoke doubt, fear or anger. demonstrates a hope that leftists will flinch away from anything associated with anyone 'problematic' without applying any critical thinking.

misrepresenting complex events (or fabricating them entirely- idk if these things happened + i simply couldn't care enough to find out) in a way that hits the pressure points of performative activism (she's being mean to an autistic person! other people of color agree with me! this other person is anti physically disabled people!) while also betraying reactionary opinions through language use/implications (claiming to care about 'transandrophobia' yet deadnaming someone? claiming to care about specific events at specific autism conferences but using terms like "severely autistic"? saying you have spoken to "Blacks, Asians, Hispanics, American Indians" lmao did you type this out based on census checkboxes from the 70s?). the author of this ask is clearly not a member of the activist communities they claim to be from because they accidentally slip into the speech conventions + opinions of a kiwifarms/4chan loser who does a lot of hatereading. this one did a good job of hitting the bingo card of divisive intracommunity issues rn- great research skills, bud! put them to better use <3

reframing reactionary beliefs using leftist concepts. this works because many of us do not have a foundational politic outside of "well, i want to be good, so I'm going to support the things that other people i trust say are good". which doesn't make you bad (there is no good or bad! learn this now + quick, if you really want to play a part in building a better world) but it makes you easy to manipulate + unlikely to be capable of meaningful change. notice that the claims this ask is asserting are, at their core, "people make up microaggressions to cause problems when really they could easily suck it up" + "people fake disabilities and being trans for attention". these are reactionary concerns, no matter how artfully they are dressed in social justice language. kiwifarms in particular was very, very good at this- they loved finding the people they stalked to be racist, homophobic, ableist, etc, not because they thought those things were wrong (it was their hobby to be these things!) but because they delighted in identifying hypocrisy, stirring up drama, + destroying people's reputations.

this is hard to explain bcuz i blacked out the names, but if you have a passing familiarity with fascist/reactionary online spaces, particularly the history of kiwifarms, you will know that reactionaries have their own 'pet leftists', just like we have our 'pet fascists' (shapiro, alex jones, tucker carlson, etc). that is, ppl they obsessively follow, harass, + scrutinize + come to believe are representative of everything that we believe. these ppl are rarely ppl who are actually prominent in our online spaces but online reactionaries often believe we are just as obsessed with these people as they are, but as unquestioned paragons of virtue + brilliance. namedropping these ppl is often an accidental tip of the hat, particularly when the ppl aren't on tumblr, haven't been a topic of community discussion for quite some time, or run in a different circle than us (reactionaries don't understand that there are actually thousands of leftist social groups which have very little overlap with some others- pronouns in bio does not mean someone knows or cares about contrapoints, for instance)

tl;dr this ask is a fantastic example of the rhetorical features bait that someone might actually take seriously.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 3)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (3)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan had a big smile on her face when she saw YFN. She pulled over at the front of her hotel and put the window down.

“Allo mate, need a lift?”

“I don’t have any money, sorry.”

Jordan opened her mouth in an amused and fake offended ‘O’. “You’re takin’ the mick.”

YFN laughed and slid into the passenger seat. “Do you charge by the hour or…?”

Jordan laughed loudly and slapped her arm. “Too expensive for you, mate.”

She began driving. YFN loved seeing this side of Jordan. The side that seemed much more natural, and much more of the Jordan that Lucy was describing last night.

“Wherrrrrre are we going?”

“I was thinking coffee and then shopping? Also, I’m assuming you don’t have any football gear to wear to the game tomorrow?”

“Hm, you are correct there.”

“Oh, Lucy is going to love seeing you in a Bronze jersey.”

YFN blushed and looked over, surprised.

“What? She loves seeing people in her jersey. Plus, you don’t know anybody else on the team, do you?”

“That’s a negative, and what number is she?”

“2.”

“Oh, my favourite. Okay, let’s get a Bronze jersey. Should we get the home or away kit?”

Jordan laughed. “Wow, look at you! Someone’s been doing their research!”

YFN grinned. “I love blue but the internet says something about it being a bad luck kit…?”

“Oh poppycock. Blue would be perfect with your eyes.”

YFN laughed. “Oh, and I also want an Australian flag.”

Although they only planned on a few hours, the two spent all day together. The atmosphere was great, they both bantered like they’d known each other for years. They wandered around town with iced drinks, stopped for breakfast, then lunch, and Jordan even taught her how to kick a soccer ball on an empty pitch, as well as teaching her some rules. YFN did try to incorporate some tackles to which Jordan gave her red cards for. They collected some free merchandise for the game from people in the club who Jordan knew and managed to find an Australian flag also. The day was fantastic, and of course they ended it on the beach with some fish and chips, Jordan making YFN try it with curry sauce. It confused the hell out of her, but she admitted it was decent.

The next day Jordan picked up YFN again early and they went for lunch. They had decided the day before that they wanted to catch up earlier before they headed to the game. At lunch, Jordan asked YFN about her job and what she did. She was a writer and loved to write fantasy. She’d been working for a newspaper before she left and had a very popular daily column with a lot of fans, but she left because she lost her passion for it. And so, she decided to travel to gain inspiration and get back into writing fantasy with the hope of publishing and travelling the world. Jordan was wowed by this and admitted to wishing she had the creativity for it. About five minutes later though, it seemed she had completely forgotten the conversation though, and had to ask again. YFN laughed, this had happened a few times with her the day before and so she lovingly gave Jordan the nickname ‘Dory’.

The seats for the game were in the perfect spot, just adjacent to where the team benches were. The two were dressed up, laughing at their awkwardness as they made their way down to their seats with arms of popcorn, hotdogs, and drinks. They reached their seats and were greeted by a loud man and his adorable family. YFN didn’t need a degree to figure out who it was. Jordan introduced him as Jorge Bronze, Lucy’s big brother, and his family. He gave Jordan a hug and kiss, and she picked up the kids and gave them kisses also. Jorge dragged YFN into a strong hug they took their seats next to them. It felt like a huge family affair and made YFNs heart swell with happiness. Her family life was not so joyful, and so this was a happy change. A few other friends came over to say hi to Jordan and she introduced them to YFN. They were friends, other football players, or partners of friends.

Shortly before the game, the teams ran out onto the field to warm up. The crowd seemed to yell extra loudly as Lucy came out onto the field, Jorge was the loudest of all. One kid in his arm and a drink in the other, he yelled at the top of his lungs “LUCYLUCY. LUCYLUCY.” Many people were yelling it like a chant, and Jorge recorded it for his social media. YFN couldn’t keep her eyes off of Lucy. She oozed confidence. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked a bit different without her glasses, but a good different. YFN bit her lip, thinking her football gear was a welcome sight. She couldn’t help but see the muscles through her clothes, particularly the thigh muscles when she walked. Lucy jogged around without a care, chewing gum and laughing with her teammates. At one point in time, she even sat on a football and just watched as the others warmed up.

“Hey Dory, what’s she doing?” YFN asked Jordan.

Jordan leaned into YFN to yell over the crowd. “Who? Lucy? Oh, her knee is really bad. Like really, really bad. She’s had a lot of surgeries and she’s always in pain. She just tries to keep off it before and after games really.”

As if Lucy had heard them, she looked up and caught sight of her group. Her eyes wandered along her family who were crazily waving until she reached Jordan and YFN. She grinned when she saw YFN wearing her jersey with that little dimpled smile on her face. It suited her, she thought. Being in the crowd with her family and friends, wearing a Bronze jersey, and holding an Australian flag with pride. She and Jordan had painted the flag on their cheeks also, fully supporting their friend. Lucy wanted nothing more than to walk over and talk to them, but she knew she was supposed to be warming up. She settled for a big childish wave and re-joined her team.

Ten minutes later they left the field, Lucy waving at her section and grinning from ear to ear as she left. Soon enough after, the crowd roared as the teams entered the stadium, holding hands with their mascots. Lucy was last in line, swinging arms with her little mascot. They stood for the national anthems and after a quick team photo, the game was underway. YFN couldn’t tell if she was just biased, but it was pretty obvious to her that Lucy was the most intelligent on the field. When she didn’t see an opening she liked, she passed the ball back to the defender next to her who Jordan said was “Millie Bright – acting Captain.” She pushed up the field hard during the first half of the game, and very nearly scoring on several occasions.

“Wow, Lucy is ON FIRE today! LUCYLUCY!” Jorge shouted. “THAT’S MY SISTER!”

“I haven’t seen her play this good is a while!” Jordan shouted in YFN’s ear.

A long shot came towards the goal and Lucy was sprinting from nowhere, her speed was incredible. She leapt, heading the ball and the goalkeeper tipped it. The ball hit the crossbar and bounced back into play. One of Lucy’s teammates were in the perfect position for the rebound and struck the ball, side-netting it. The crowd groaned loudly.

“COME ON LESS!” Jordan yelled encouragingly.

“COME ON RUSSO! WHY IS LUCY OUR BEST STRIKER!” A yell came from behind them in the crowd.

YFN was confused. Jordan saw her confusion. “Lucy is a defender, not a striker. Not even a midfielder. She shouldn’t be the most dangerous striker for us today but she’s just playing so well. The other girls aren’t doing well enough to be honest.”

That made sense to her. Lucy was compensating for her team. All of her discussions with Jordan the day before about Lucy being overly competitive and not liking to lose were becoming more obvious. YFN loved it and joined in on the shouting for England’s number 2.

The whistle blew to signal half time and the scores were still 0-0. During the break the pair took Lucy’s niece and nephew up to the bathroom and brought back more snacks for the Bronze family. They settled back down when YFN noticed that Jordan was tense and uncomfortably shifting.

“What’s the matter?” YFN asked.

Jordan leant over to talk in her ear, not loud enough that anyone else would hear it. “My ex is here. A few rows behind us. She waved at me.”

YFN pulled back with wide, worried eyes. “Oh Jordan, are you okay?”

“I don’t know. We’re still friends and I think she’s a lovely person, but I just feel so uncomfortable right now. She going to want to try and speak to me after this.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“She going to try and speak to me like everything’s normal when it’s not. I don’t think I have the capacity.”

YFN put her arm around Jordan and pulled her close. “You need to tell her that you need space. Because right now, even though you’re replying the bare minimum to her, it’s still coming across like you’re okay to casually chat to her when you know you need your space to heal.”

“You’re right.” She groaned. “I just don’t want to come across nasty at all. She’s such a good person.”

“Protect yourself first. Heal a bit. And only then can you try to have normal conversations with her, hm?”

The teams came back out then, and the second half began. Jordan’s mood picked up as she was lost again in the screaming, but unlike YFN, she was yelling their names.

Lucy played even better the second half, giving so many chances to her teammates to score. She went down, hard at one point, literally tumbling over like a gymnast and the crowd seemed to think this was normal.

“NEVER A GOOD GAME UNLESS LUCY IS FLYING!”

“LUCIA!”

“LUCYLUCY!”

“BRONZEYYYYY!”

She got back up and jogged back over to her spot a bit stiffly. YFN was in awe of her resilience. Eventually the 90 minutes were up and they were given +2 minutes. Just when all seemed like it was about to be over, Lucy scored. And it was beautiful. Just like last time she came sprinting from absolutely nowhere however this time she volleyed the ball into the net, hard. So hard the net must have broken. The stadium erupted, they all leapt to their feet screaming at the top of their lungs. Jordan and YFN grabbed each other, jumping up and down. Popcorn flew all around. Lucy was bombarded by her teammates leaping onto her. Looking up at the big screen, YFN could better see the massive grin spread across her face. Of course she scored.

“GOAL FOR ENGLAND NUMBER 2, LUCY BRONZE!”

The stadium erupted again.

Play resumed for the last 20 seconds, and the whistle ended the match to a stadium still cheering for Lucy.

Jorge was again filming on his phone, kid in one arm and phone in the other. “AW TOO BAD SO SAD.” He cackled as he filmed the other team. YFN laughed at the absurdity of it. She looked around at the packed stadium. It was all insane.

“AND YOUR PLAYER OF THE MATCH IS… LUCY BRONZE!”

Lucy received even more yelling and applauses. She shook hands with both teams and then was dragged into an interview on the pitch while her teammates signed autographs and gave out some of their match worn gear to the crowd. When Lucy finished the interview, she immediately hobbled over to her section and jumped up to lean over the barriers. Jorge and her family got to her first and pulled her into big hugs and kisses. They took some selfies and then Lucy moved over to grab Jordan into an all-encompassing hug.

“I’m so proud of you.” Jordan cried, tears welling. Lucy grinned and pulled back, looking at YFN and opening her arms cheekily. YFN laughed and wrapped her arms around her in a tight, warm hug. Of course, Lucy’s hugs were amazing.

“I’m sorry, I probably don’t smell the best right now.”

“You smell like success to me.” YFN kept holding tight for as long as Lucy was, though Lucy was doing the same. They both gave up eventually so as to not give any wrong impressions to photographers or the crowd around them.

“Nice jersey. Would you like me to sign it?”

“Depends, how much would it be worth?”

Lucy rolled her eyes and took a sharpie from her brother. She shifted YFN’s hair back gently to sign her jersey over her collarbone. She couldn’t help but notice YFNs perfume. The same perfume that was on her hoody when she had given it back a few days before. A shiver went up her spine as she tried to focus on writing neatly.

“Mine too please!” Jordan quipped. Lucy signed her jersey also.

“Oh, and this please!” YFN held up her Australian flag. Lucy grinned, rolling her eyes again and signed her flag. YFN couldn’t help but stare at her, the big grin taking over her face, her hair curling at the sides where she’d been sweating, and those big green eyes. They locked eyes for a moment but both broke contact almost immediately as it affected them both so intensely. No way would they be able to keep it normal in front of so many people. They felt each other shiver and saw each other smile. Nobody seemed to notice.

“I hear there’s a dinner party tonight!” Jorge almost yelled.

“Ohhhh yeah. Family and friends. I told them you’d all be there. You’re all coming, right?” She looked at Jordan a little worried, presumably because her ex would be there.

Jordan looked at YFN. “Stuff it. Yeah, we’ll be there.”

[matan4il]

Okay, story time.

Years ago I was writing a paper for uni about a queer reading of David and Jonathan, and why it's totally legit (even intentionally invited by the text).

When I started doing my research for it, I discovered that while the queer reading of David and Jonathan is pretty well known in queer circles, there's very little in the way of actual academic material on it, whether we're talking about a literary, religious or historical analysis of the text and this interpretation of it. I had maybe 2-3 essays about queer reading of ANY part of the Bible. And most of ot? Was actually not that great. Very little of it was about anything objective, most of it was just a suggestion for a different subjective reading of the text. Which is legit, but not enough. Most of the time, for an interpretation to be considered legit, we have to show that it relies on something that objectively exists in the text.

And then I found this paper by a guy determined to DISPROVE the queer reading of David and Jonathan. Now when I barely have material that's in favor of a queer reading of David and Jonathan, why would I be wasting my time reading what was written against it? But I'm a weirdo, and I always wanna know the counterarguments that can be used against me, too. Yeah, even if I disagree with them.

AND OMG AM I HAPPY I'M LIKE THAT.

Because this guy? Did a PHENOMENAL job at proving that objectively, the bow is the symbol of masculinity to the ancient Israelites. This is relevant because a biblical verse mentions that Prince Jonathan gave David his bow. I'm gonna say it again, this guy proved that for any Israelite back then, regardless of the subjective place they come from, when they were reading the text, what they would get from it is that JONATHAN GAVE DAVID THE PHALLIC SYMBOL OF HIS MASCULINITY. Tell me that doesn't align perfectly with a queer reading...

So why was this guy, who's trying to disprove the queer reading of David and Jonathan, proving the gay potential of this moment? Because to him, if Prince Jonathan has a symbol of masculinity, that means he's a masculine man, and no masculine man can be gay. Yep, the guy writing this paper was so blinded by his own bigotry, homophobia and misconceptions about masculinity and sexual orientation, that he didn't even realize he was handing me a valuable tool to prove queer readings of David and Jonathan are 100% legit.

Why am I mentioning this now all of a sudden?

Because sometimes the haters and anti's of a fandom are actually precisely like that guy, and it both amuses me to no end, and also makes me wonder if they realize how much their efforts sometimes backfire, and instead of destroying my love for and belief in a ship, they actually end up reinforcing it.

If you ever feel down because of haters in your fandom, just remember this.

[artful-aries]

Prosaic Introductions: Innocent Perspectives (Dottore x Reader)

A part two of my Prosaic Introductions drabble, this time in the point of view of the reader! It can be read as a stand alone though, but you’re missing out on some juicy context without part one. This has been highly requested for some time, so I hope everyone enjoys :3

Word Count: 1.6k

Content Warnings: none

Dottore was by far the strangest man you ever had the pleasure of meeting. His presence brought a chill to any room he stepped into, maintaining a hard distance from anyone and everyone, and he never took off that weird mask. You wondered if he wore it for some medical reason or if perhaps he was self conscious of the top half of his face. Nonetheless, you still could somehow tell whenever his eyes would bore into you with an intensity that could probably put Archons to shame.

On the outside, the Harbinger seemed entirely unapproachable, even dangerous, and yet you found yourself being drawn in by him. Perhaps you were merely a moth drawn to the flame, or more accurately, the fly caught in his web, but you found yourself always throwing caution to the wind when it came to him.

It had been a few weeks since Dottore had given you a cryptic response about making time to see you after he helped chase away a belligerent idiot, something that you found more attractive than was probably morally acceptable. You would go days at a time without seeing the man and wonder if he had gotten busy or simply grown bored of you when he would pop back into your life, like he somehow read your mind and knew you wanted to see him. Given the nature of his role as a Harbinger, part of you wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow could read your mind, but given that he still interacted with you it was reasonable to conclude that he couldn’t read your thoughts. At least, not the embarrassing ones, which in your opinion were the only ones that mattered in this case.

Now you found yourself aimlessly wandering the streets of the market you always preferred to shop at with the tall, cold man in tow. He crept like a shadow as he idly followed you, seemingly wholly content with walking by your side in complete silence.

“So…what was it that brought you to the market today? Did you need more supplies for your research?” You asked politely, taking the opportunity to cast a quick glance at the Harbinger.

The corner of his mouth tapered up ever so slightly, so subtle that you almost wondered if you imagined it as he spoke, “I was not in need of supplies today, (Y/N). I came for other reasons.”

Getting a straight answer out of Dottore was almost like pulling teeth; he seemed to relish in your confusion, a fact which would have been extremely irritating if it was anyone else, but with him it was almost like trying to solve a complicated puzzle, one that you felt like you would feel very rewarded in solving.

You positioned yourself in front of him, walking backwards so that you could continue to face him as you grinned, “What’s the reason you came today then, hm?”

The attempt at being a little flirty was brought to a swift end by your own clumsiness as your back hit a shop’s shelf, making you give a small grunt at the feeling. A piece of pottery on the top shelf rattled at the force, rolling its way to the edge before it dropped off the side, falling swiftly towards your head. You barely had time to react before Dottore swiftly moved closer to you, catching the vase with one hand as he looked at you with what you could only assume to be an amused expression.

“It’s certainly quite fascinating how you’ve managed to survive this long,” Dottore spoke with a hint of mirth in his voice as he gently put the vase back, “You seem to be insistent on getting into all kinds of trouble that requires my intervention.”

The shop keeper, having heard the commotion, stormed up to chastise you both, but upon realizing who you were with, they turned pale and immediately spun on their heels and headed in the opposite direction. Dottore smirked in a way that you were convinced was his way of saying ‘See? I told you so’.

“Well, it’s not my fault you make yourself so dependable,” You teased, but you could feel your face flushing a little bit in embarrassment at your blunder, “At any rate, you still haven’t told me why you’re here. Doesn’t a Harbinger have more pressing matters to attend to than following me around?”

“Perhaps,” He smiled, showing his sharp teeth for a moment as both of you began to aimlessly walk together once more, “But I am here despite my obligations to the Tsaritsa.”

You didn’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that the Doctor seemed to be playing hooky with his duties to Snezhnaya, and it didn’t escape your notice that he continued to dance around your question.

Before you could press again, Dottore gave another cryptic answer, “You could say that I’m actively participating in collecting data for research as we speak.”

You gave him an incredulous look, not believing that he was doing anything even remotely close to research. He didn’t even have a notebook or anything, so what could he possibly be researching?

“And what is it that the Doctor is researching this time? Surely it’s something so spectacular that you don’t have to run any tests or take notes,” You replied with a small laugh, believing him to just be testing you to see how gullible you were.

“You,” Dottore said simply, not even casting a glance in your direction, as though it was the most normal response in the world.

…Huh?

You found your next words leaving your mouth before you could stop yourself, “Is that your way of asking me on a date?”

Dottore stopped in his tracks, making you nearly stumble as you stopped mid-gait as you looked at him. He stared at you intently, or at least you assumed so behind his mask. The damn thing kept you from being able to figure out what was going through his head at the moment. Was he shocked? Angry? Embarrassed? You had no clue. All you knew was that he was staring at you like his life depended on it, not moving a muscle.

“A date,” Dottore slowly repeated, more as a statement than a question.

You swallowed hard, clamming up as you worried that you somehow offended the man in front of you. Perhaps it was presumptuous to assume he was even attracted to your gender, let alone you as an individual.

“U-Um, nevermind, it was…I was just-“ You struggled to come up with a reasonable explanation for what you had said that wasn’t just writing it off as a bad joke, but you were drawing a blank.

Then Dottore gave a small chuckle, his arms crossing over his chest as he replied in an amused tone, “You mean a date as in a romantic outing, do you not?”

Archons, you would give anything to die on the spot right now.

“If you’re into that,” You answered, cringing internally at your own wishy-washy response. Why did you have to dig yourself into an even deeper hole?

The silence was dreadful, and you could only stand there and shift awkwardly as Dottore stared you down through his mask. You wish he would say something, anything, if only to break the tense silence. At this point, you wouldn’t even care if he laughed at you if it meant getting past this awkward moment.

“How amusing,” The Harbinger smirked as he stepped closer to you, making you snap out of your internal lamenting of your awkwardness, “Fine then, we shall go on a date, (Y/N). I believe this could produce quite interesting results.”

You gaped at him for a moment before blinking a few times, “Y-You’re serious? You’ll take me on a date?”

You couldn’t believe you had gotten this far with a man who terrified entire nations. At one point you had convinced yourself he was entirely aromantic and asexual with how little he seemed interested in your average interpersonal relationships. Yet here he was, this stoic, indifferent man was agreeing to go on a date with you. If it were anyone else, you would have assumed they agreed as a joke, but Dottore didn’t seem like the type of man to agree to such a thing on mere humor alone.

“I believe you’ll see just how serious I am very soon,” Dottore spoke with a smug look, “Don’t tell me that you’re trying to back out now, hm? It would be a great disappointment to miss this opportunity.”

There was a certain tone in his voice that felt…slightly detached, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. Considering the man was inherently detached from those around him, you simply wrote it off as just his usual cold mannerisms seeping through.

“No, I’m definitely not backing out,” You insisted, your cheeks heating up a little as you looked at him, “So…when will you take me on a date then?”

Dottore hummed at your response, clearly entertained at your embarrassed state, “I believe I’ll leave that as a surprise. Wouldn’t want to ruin all the fun, now would we?”

Before you could protest at how ridiculous that was, Dottore already started walking off, waving to you over his shoulder as he spoke, “Until next time, (Y/N). I look forward to our date.”

“I- Wait, you can’t just- Are you even listening to me?” You called out to him, but it was clear that he had no intention of returning to the conversation as he disappeared into the crowd. If that man didn’t interest you so much, you would have cursed him out by now with how often he left you puzzled and confused at his actions, you were sure of it. With an exasperated sigh, you began walking back home, but there was a bit of a spring in your step that wasn’t there previously. Dottore was a strange man indeed, but perhaps that meant you were even stranger for seeking his affections.

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Don't mess with our dad

The great general Furfur was attacked. Somehow, winding up in the hospital with several cuts, a concussion, 3 broken ribs, his left kneecap broken, and a dislocated jaw. The large demon pouting about whatever had occurred.

A nurse walked in and smiled. "Look, general! Someone sent you a "get" well gift!" Showing him the large boutique of flowers that she arranged in the vase next to his bed. As well as a small card. For a demon like Furfur, who understood the meaning of several plants for research purposes that was anything but a gift.

13 types of flowers hidden away in disguised present. 13 flowers, basically screaming at him the same message. It was actually kinda cute how passive-aggressive the warning in it came.

Yellow carnations, meaning rejection. Columbine stood for foolishness, and the Geranium empathized that by adding folly and stupidity to the mix. Hydrangea showed signs of heartless or frigid affection. The lavender indicates deep signals of mistrust.

Orange Lily screams out hatred with its loud coloration. Marigold showed off grief and jealousy, but considering there were also Yellow Roses added, also implying jealousy and infidelity, he knew which way the message leaned. Then came the Peonies for bashfulness and shame.

The Poppies were a consolation of sorts as the Snapdragons spoke of deception and grace. The Zinnia were absent in affection while the Lotus tried to offer enlightenment and rebirth. Something along the lines of... 'Get lost, you jealous pig. I wouldn't even trust you in the next life.'

On the card, there was the entire misfit class, and several of them were holding a "get" well soon banner. It was rather sweet until he spotted his two trainees holding a sign over their heads. In big bold letters, it said. 'DON'T PICK ON DAD AGAIN!'.

Even that was somewhat amusing... until he remembered how he ended up here in the first place. A shudder rushed down his spine cause a brief grunt to escape as it pasted his ribs. Maybe he should wait a bit before he ever decides to visit again.

**the day before**

It was just an average weekend spent at home. All the kids were over and causing mischief. Balam currently had an energetic Clara on his shoulders whilst Iruma and Lied clung to his legs.

Kamui was sitting with Kerori and Elizabetta currently having tea. Alice and Sabro were fighting again, but they weren't destroying anything, so you chalked that up for a win. Picero was taking a nap on his cloud while Goemon, Allocer, and Jazz seemed to be playing some kind of card game.

Which left Soi, who was currently trying to sneak up on Balam with one of your freshly made flower crowns. You giggled as you watched the two of them playfully participate in a game of now you see me. Every time Balam-San would turn to acknowledge the little demon, he would disappear.

Overall, it was a lovely day. Too bad something had to ruin it. A shadow loomed over you, and you glanced up recognizing your uninvited guest. "Hiya cutie, did ya miss me?" General Furfur.

You gave him a blank stare in return. "What are you doing here?" The disinterest in you tone making the answer to his question very clear. "Aw, don't be so cold. Didn't we have fun last time?" That slick smirk stretching across his face.

"I believe I told you already. I don't waste my time with people who don't raise my interest. You had it, but you lost it just as quickly. It's not my fault if you can't maintain something." You shrug before turning back to watch your kids.

Somehow, Soi had either snuck up a tree without Balam-San noticing or the demon had let the boy think that. Either way, he hung precariously above the gargoyles head, shushing a giggling Clara as he dropped the laurel on top of their dad's head.

Shichirou, for his part, blinked and pretended to be surprised when he reached up to touch his head. "What do you even see in him?" You heard the frustration in his voice, and you stiffened.

"I mean, he's so weird, I heard he constantly carried creepy books around as a student, and he is constantly mumbling strange nonsense. So what's there to even like?" You could feel your nails digging into your flesh, your teeth clenching together like a steel trap.

"And you know even if he is strong, he's more of a pacifist, not very demon like if you ask me." Every word seemed to grate on your skin. How dare he?!? How dare he scoff at your husband/mate/whatever this relationship had escalated to.

Standing up, you were ready to send him flying through the garden wall. Only.... someone beat you to it? Well, more like two demon's cause it seemed Alice and Sabro had heard the red demon trash talking their master.

It seems all of your children had heard to actually as they proceeded to gang up on the large general before he could stand. Kicking punching scratching, you even saw iruma bitting him!! Balam cautiously approached you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

"Are you alright?" He whispers softly in your ear, brushing his woven feathers behind your ear as he does. You glance over to him. Seeing your present still firmly in place wrapped by strong vines around his neck. The pretty stone sort of winking in the light.

Reaching up, you wiped your shocked tears off of your face in surprise. Oh! You hadn't realized you were crying. "Yeah, it's just..." looking back in time to see Clara and Sabro holding a large hammer and smashing it on one of Furfurs legs.

"I'm just so proud!" The tears of shock quickly turning into one's of joy. "Look at my babies fighting to defend you! Oh, where's my camera?!" You quickly grabbed your phone and started taking pictures.

The gargoyle shifted somewhere between nervous but also proud. "Shouldn't we stop them?" You waved off his concern. "It will be fine as long as they don't kill him."

[eggluverz]

NOT A WEIRDO STALKER.

PART 5. a stalker or irresistible? [the end]

PAIRING. blade x f!reader

SUMMARY. modern au. you’re minding your own business as a research assistant and college student just trying to vibe. blade is a new team member who is somehow convinced you are trying to stalk him after all your chance encounters together. so maybe he’s a little obsessed with himself, but you find it cute anyway.

NOTE. final part!! a very short and sweet smau and it was a fun little way to explore this very chaotic story with blade :3 hehe i really enjoyed this whirlwind of a mini series and thank u all for reading!! i miss blade already t.t so def expect some more for him soon xx sof

“Have you decided what to watch yet?” 

A deep voice that sounded almost hoarse from having just woken up made you lift your head from your phone. Your new teammate and friend sat beside you on the sofa, a safe enough distance away so that you couldn’t accidentally make contact with him without meaning to. Even though Blade was sitting, his presence still took up the whole room. With his long dark hair and piercing red eyes, he was someone you couldn’t miss. 

There was no doubt in your mind he could fend off whatever was at your door. Even if it was the biggest of stray cats. 

You nodded. “I’ll go with what Dan Heng suggested! Great British Bake Off.”

Blade folded his arms over his chest. A look of annoyance crossed his face as he huffed. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were downturned, almost looking like a pout. “Why Dan Heng?” 

You tilted your head sideways. “Because he was the only one who answered the poll…” 

“I answered.”

“With a show that wasn’t an option to begin with!” you laughed, lightly nudging his arm with your elbow. “That basically doesn’t count as a vote.” 

“Wow.” He rolled his eyes but his stance softened at the brief contact. Blade unfolded his arms with a sigh, leaning back on your sofa and putting his right arm across the head rest. “Very politician of you.”

You crinkled your nose. “Fine, we can watch The 100 another time. When it’s not five in the morning and pitch black and scary.” 

“So there’ll be another time?” he mused. 

You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you, his stare unwavering. Was that too presumptuous of you?

Blade basked in your silence. He was in his element. With his arms outstretched and his legs wide, he manspread on your couch, his knee softly pressing against your thigh. It was warm on your bare skin, even through his sweatpants. You never liked manspreading. You always thought it was rather rude. But why did it look so attractive when Blade did it? 

“There doesn’t have to be another if you don’t want,” you said with a huff, unsure if he was teasing you or if the prospect of movie nights was really something he wasn’t very keen on. You hoped it was the former. 

“Let’s see how tonight goes first.” Blade looked mischievous, a challenging smirk on his face as he gestured you closer. You moved so that you were leaning back on his arm. “Not that there’s anything you could do that would make me not want more.” 

“Oh really?” you said, amused. “From claiming I’m a weirdo stalker to finding me that irresistible?” You paused. “Why were you so sure I was one anyway?”

“A stalker or irresistible?” 

“You know what I meant,” you laughed, pleased he didn’t shoot down your flirting like you thought he would. 

He shrugged, tapping his foot against the floor. “Well, I just started noticing you around everywhere the past few months when I’ve never even seen you before. In the same classes as me, same apartment, same lab…” 

“That does tend to happen when we’re both in the same major living in the same complex,” you said matter-of-factly. “The lab though— I’ve been in that since my second year. You just joined now. So you were the stalker in that scenario!”

Blade rolled his eyes. “Then you get my number and ask me to dinner…” 

“I told you already! I saved everyone’s number not just yours!” You were exasperated, cheeks puffing up as you defended yourself. “And the dinner thing really was just me trying to show my gratitude—”

He held his hand up, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “I’m only joking now. You don’t need to explain yourself. I get you weren’t secretly obsessed with me.”

You were more amused that he ever thought that instead of genuinely offended, but it still felt nice to have that cleared up. “Good.”

“Maybe now I wish you were though,” Blade whispered under his breath, surprising you. But you didn’t let your momentary shock allow Blade to take control of the entire situation. You wanted to contribute to it as well. 

You threw his earlier words back at him, eyes crinkling into a smile. “We’ll have to see how tonight goes first.” 

He nodded, pleased with your response. “We got a lot riding on tonight then, huh?” 

“It seems so.”

“Then let’s make it count.” 

taglist: @kissingkzuha @kaedear @yevene @vernith @yelshin @ceylestia @karma-gisa @elijahcrevan :) <3

[lampiridaes]

IDK if this is open but.. hey, can you do a WxS x reader?? so basically, reader is like Rinku Aimoto from D4DJ?? she is like similar to emu 😭 also, you can make the reader fem or gender neutral!! ^__^ thank you!!!

♬ now playing: "rinku aimoto"

-> all together now! happy around!

★ — chars ; tsukasa , emu , nene , rui

★ — notes ; HIHIHHI ANONNN did it separately however if u want to req a poly ver, feel free to send another req next time i open them :D did some research on rinku (used to play d4dj but wasn't rlly into it + only focused on rondo) but i hope u still have a fun time reading this one <3 sorry its a little shorter than others huhu

★ — warnings ; can be read as romantic/platonic , 'twin' used to describe emu , fem!reader implied for emu (reader studies at miyamasuzaka) , otherwise none!

★ — taglist ; @asherenjoysart , @nogenderbee , @akitosheart , @nenes-numberonefan , @mintchocaur

affiliated with @virtualbookstore ★

★ track one: tenma tsukasa

considering tsukasa himself is rather loud, the both of you get along pretty well!

sure, you might be considered a strange person, but so is he, and to an extent, rui! when he finally introduces you to the rest of wonderlands x showtime, they're all thrilled to meet you!

not to mention, your cheerful and outgoing personality makes you easy to hear in the crowds when he performs.

and, as always, tsukasa gets even more motivated to put on a good performance. not just for the audience but also for you.

★ track two: otori emu

you see, emu could feel it in the air when you two passed by each other in miyamasuzaka. it's not every day you meet someone incredibly similar to you, after all.

it was almost like there was a second emu when you were there, or a second you when emu was there. many people said you were like long-lost twins, even if you don't look all that similar!

adores dragging you around different areas with her. malls, amusement parks, restaurants... you name it, emu's already grabbing your wrist and taking you along with her.

★ track three: kusanagi nene

considering she's great friends with a certain pink-haired member of her unit, it's no surprise you and nene got along pretty well. maybe not immediately, but the important part is that you got there!

your cheerful and optimistic nature helps a lot with nene's stage fright early on. even if you're a little loud and it might bother her at times, the fact that you're there to support her when she needed it most was special.

★ track four: kamishiro rui

another oddball like yourself, rui warmed up to you almost instantly. in a way, you were like a mix of emu and tsukasa, of course he would!

he tends to worry about your airheadedness, though. which is also why he tries to keep an eye on you as much as he can when you're near his robots. at the very least, rui doesn't add self-destruct buttons to his robots.

[simping4villains]

Here’s a part 2 of the Shigaraki oneshot I posted awhile back (since some of y’all were asking for it). I do have both parts posted on both my wattpadd and ao3 account under the same username (along with many other fics). I think i’m going to keep the story going, so check there for more regular updates! <3

~~~~~

Warning: Sexual content

It had been a couple of weeks since that night in Tomura's apartment. You'd been avoiding him, not responding to his texts and dodging his calls, but he started threatening to stop by your apartment or the elementary school you taught at to check on you, so you finally agreed to see him.

He asked you to meet up with him at the South entrance of the mall where you'd first met. He was wearing the same black hoodie he'd worn on that day. Originally, you had thought he was just introverted and anxious, but now you realized that he probably wore it in an attempt to hide his identity. He didn't want to be recognized in public and have the heroes called in.

God, what an idiot you'd been. You were too naive, too trusting. Now you were in too deep.

"Y/n," he smiled when he saw you. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

Neither were you.

"Of course. I'm sorry if it feels like i've been ignoring you lately, i've just been so busy with my students," you lied. "It's almost winter break."

Tomura had never shown any signs that he'd be violent toward you, but you still weren't sure what he was truly capable of. You'd tried to do research on him and his villain group, but the media didn't have a ton of information. It seemed like he hadn't had any sort of life before the league—not one that you could find, at least.

"It's alright," he said, though you weren't sure if he really believed you or not.

"So, what are we doing? Your text was pretty cryptic."

"I was thinking we could grab a drink and talk."

You were confused. You'd never known Tomura to have much of a taste for alcohol. "Um, I'm not so sure there are any bars in the mall."

"That's okay, I know a place." He turned and started walking down the sidewalk, glancing at you over his shoulder. "Come on."

Alarms were going off on your head. He wasn't giving you enough information. You didn't like not knowing where he was taking you. Then again, you weren't sure how he would react if you refused to follow him. What choice did you have but to play along?

He led you to a bus stop, which only made you feel even more unsettled. When the bud arrived, you took note that it was headed for the Kamino Ward. It wasn't a place you were very familiar with.

Walking through the streets, you tried to guess which bar Tomura was bringing you to, but he kept passing them by. Eventually, the streets became less lively and more deserted. Many of the buildings looked abandoned, including the one that he finally stopped in front of.

"Well, here it is."

"I don't understand, is it like a speak easy or something?"

He gave an amused laugh. "I guess you could say that."

He slipped through the boards that covered the busted door, urging you to follow him. Against your better judgment, you did. The room inside was battered and covered in dust.

"There's nothing here."

"It's downstairs."

You started to feel nauseous. Had his plan been to just kill you all along? Did he not think he could let you live now that you knew who he was?

"Tomura, it's getting late, maybe I should get going. I promised my aunt that I'd stop by tonight. I don't want her to worry."

It was another lie, but he didn't have to know that. You wanted him to think you had places to be, people who would notice if you didn't show up, didn't answer their texts and calls. Your aunt had met Tomura before, so she'd probably give his name to the police if you went missing.

Then again, what had the police been able to do to stop him up to this point?

His smile dropped. You'd never seen him look so hurt. "I knew it. You really are afraid of me."

"Tomura, that's not it at all."

"Then just trust me. Please. Don't leave yet."

You nodded. "Okay."

What else could you say? What else could you do? If he thought you were a flight risk, that might only cause him to kill you sooner.

The two of you crossed the room to a door, which he opened to reveal a closet. You braced for an impact, thinking maybe he would use your confusion as a means to distract you while he knocked you out. Instead, he reached out to the back wall of the closet and pushed it forward, revealing it to be a hidden door. Beyond it was a set of stairs that led to the basement. As soon as he revealed this secret entrance, he pulled a hand out of his pocket and put it over his face. It was part of his villain costume—you remembered the chills it gave you when you'd first seen it on that special news report.

You followed him down and were surprised to find that there really was a bar in the basement of this abandoned building. There were a few people in the room, but the person who caught your attention was the man standing behind the counter, polishing a glass. His body appeared to be made of smoke or something. He looked up at the two of you as you entered.

"Ah, young master Shigaraki, you've returned."

A man sitting at the bar in a skin-tight suit turned toward the two of you. "Yeah, and it looks like he brought a friend. Who the hell is this, boss?!"

The girl sitting beside him, who couldn't have been more than 17, tilted her head and smiled. "Is she a new recruit?"

Tomura shifted awkwardly. You could feel the way he tensed with embarrassment. "This is Y/n. We've been seeing each other for a while now and I thought it was time for her to meet you."

"The boss has a girlfriend? Get it, boss!"

The girl hopped off of the stool she'd been perched on, running over to circle around you and size you up. "What a cutie! I wonder what your blood tastes like?"

Tomura wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him in a protective manner. "Maybe this was a mistake."

The girl laughed. "Oh, don't worry, boss! We're going to be best friends." She beamed at you. "My name's Toga."

The man in the suit hopped up to join you all. "And I'm Jin. But my villain name is Twice because I can duplicate myself and make copies of other people! I don't know if i'm the real deal or just a clone!"

"Don't overwhelm her," Tomura warned, his eyes narrowing at them between the fingers of the hand he wore.

"Oh, no, we wouldn't want to scare her off," one of the other members piped up from the corner of the room, his tone sarcastic. "God knows how hard it is for you to get a date."

You hadn't noticed him before, which seemed shocking now that your gaze met his. His body was covered in what looked like burn scars and even from across the room you could tell he had the most piercing blue eyes you'd ever seen. His demeanor was fairly casual, but still conveyed that he wasn't someone you'd want to mess with. He was a bit terrifying.

Any embarrassment Tomura felt was quickly melting into rage. It seemed he and this other league member didn't get along too well. Despite whatever internal conflict you were facing, you couldn't help but feel bad for him in that moment. Your hand brushed the one he had on your waist, just long enough for him to understand that it had been on purpose and that you'd intended for it to comfort him.

"Just ignore him," Tomura mumbled. "It's what the rest of us do."

"So, what's your quirk?" Toga asked, trying to shift the attention away from the other man.

Twice cut you off before you could answer. "Are you going to join the league? You totally should!"

You looked between Toga and Twice. You had been ready for Tomura to kill you, but nothing could have prepared you for this. "Oh, I—"

"No," Tomura snapped. "She's just here to better understand our cause."

You could feel the silent rage radiating off of him. In his eyes, these two had crossed a line by inviting you to be a part of the league. If it was something you'd decided for yourself, he would have welcomed you with open arms, but he wanted to protect you, and he knew that you would be safest if the heroes never found out about you.

The man in the corner scoffed. "Of course she isn't joining the league. Look at her. She probably couldn't keep up with us."

Tomura's fingers dug into your hip. He was trying to hold himself back, to keep his composure. If this man had been insulting him, he could've just ignored it, or even come back with his own sarcastic retort, but when it came to you—well, it was harder for him to brush it off.

"Y/n," the man behind the bar called. "Come and sit. Would you like some tea? I've always got it ready for master Shigaraki."

"Tea would be lovely," you smiled, glad for someone to diffuse the sudden tension.

You took a seat at the bar, trying to ignore whatever lecture Tomura was giving Twice and Toga about the way they'd ambushed you. You wondered whether or not the other man would get a lecture too. He didn't seem like someone who would really listen. . . or care.

"Sorry about them," the man said as he pushed a cup of tea across the bar to you. "Some of the newer members are so full of charisma. And Dabi, well, he's. . ."

"It's alright. I'm sure they mean well," you replied, forcing a smile. "I didn't catch your name."

"It's Kurogiri."

"Kurogiri," you repeated. "How did you end up becoming a bar tender for the league of villains?"

He laughed. "I am not just a mere bartender. It is my job to keep Tomura Shigaraki safe. I am his sworn protector."

"I didn't think the leader of the league of villains would need protecting."

"There are plenty of people who want to see his downfall—heroes and villains alike. Most don't agree with his mission."

You were about to ask what his mission was when you felt three fingers gripping your shoulder, telling you that Tomura wanted to leave.

"Kurogiri, I'll be in my room if you need me. Come on, Y/n."

He led you through the bar and down a hallway, stopping at the very last door. His room at the league's hideout was smaller than the one in his apartment, and somehow even less decorated. It was very reminiscent of a college dorm, though he had a full-size bed. On his desk you noticed he had a photo strip of the two of you that you'd taken on one of your very first dates. Besides this, his desk was almost completely bare.

"I'm sorry about them," he said as he took a seat on the bed, removing the hand from his face and setting it on the nightstand. "Maybe bringing you here was a mistake after all." His fingers found their way to his neck, mindlessly scratching lines in familiar tracks.

You moved to sit beside him, gently pulling his hand away from his reddening skin to hold it palm-up in your lap. "Toga and Twice seemed nice."

"I just thought maybe if you met everyone then you would see that we aren't as bad as the heroes make us out to be. You'd see that you don't have to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afrai—"

"Stop," he said, his eyes pinching shut like the words pained him to hear. "I feel like you can barely look at me now. You think I wouldn't hesitate to kill you, that your death would be just as meaningless to me as those who have died as collateral—a small sacrifice for my cause."

You didn't know what to say. You had hoped you'd been convincing enough, but Tomura had seen through it. He could tell things had changed between you. Your heart was racing now, wondering what he would do.

He turned to you, his eyes soft and pleading. "I would never do anything to hurt you, y/n—and I would gladly kill anyone who tried. I couldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you."

You swallowed, searching his eyes for any sign of deception, but ultimately decided that this was the truth. He didn't bring you here to kill you, he just wanted you to understand him.

"Kurogiri mentioned that a lot of people don't agree with your 'mission.' What is it you're doing?"

"I want to destroy the world that we live in. You don't know what's going on, so you don't understand how wretched it really is. From the ashes, I'll build a new world—similar to what you believe ours to be."

You had never seen this side of him before. He sounded so. . . evil. "But why do you have to destroy things first? Why can't you just try to make things better?"

He shook his head, pulling his hand away from you. "Society is too far gone. There is no 'making things better' as it stands. We need a fresh start, and I can give it to us."

You nodded slowly, processing everything he was saying. "And what would this new world of yours look like?"

"No more heroes who are only after the pay and praise of a job well done. Just people. People allowed to live their lives without being forced to worship these corrupt imposters."

You thought of your mother, who had been a hero and had died saving others. Had she really been so bad? Had she done it for the wrong reasons? You'd be lying if you said there was never a time where you thought her sense of justice had been selfish. Because of it you had grown up without a mother, without a father, isolated from the rest of the world, discouraged from using and training your quirk. You often wondered how different your life might look now if she had picked a different, more sensible career path.

He continued when you didn't respond. "No one is born a villain, they're created—they're spit out and shunned by this cruel world one too many times. I just want to live in a world where everyone is equal, where no one is treated differently for their quirks."

"Well, I guess. . . I guess that doesn't seem so bad."

He smiled and rested his forehead against yours, bringing a hand up to cup your jaw. "I don't want to live in that world without you by my side. I really do love you."

You held your breath and closed your eyes, weighing everything that he'd said. The man you'd spent the past few months with, Tomu, was sweet, shy, caring. Tomura Shigaraki, the leader of the league of villains, had a reputation for being something else entirely—cold, ambitious, and merciless. Before, you couldn't have believed they really were the same person. Yet sitting here, listen to him speak, it all came together. And you hated yourself because, despite it all. . .

"I love you," you whispered, as if you were ashamed to say the words too loud, afraid that might somehow make them more real.

He pressed his lips to yours, winding his hand into your hair, always careful to keep at least one finger away from you. He'd missed you those past few weeks. He was worried he had lost you. He wanted you to know how much you meant to him—how much he needed you. He had been a mess without you, barely eating or sleeping. He would have fallen apart completely if you'd left. He needed you to know that.

"I thought i'd lost you," he whispered between kisses, his voice like a plea, begging you to keep proving him wrong.

Honestly, you'd thought he'd lost you, too. You had every intention of ending your relationship by avoiding him. Maybe it wasn't fair to do it that way given how long you'd been together, but after learning who he really was, you worried that if you met up with him to end things then he might overreact and become violent. You couldn't have predicted that seeing him would instead make you change your mind.

"I'm still here," you told him, feeling ashamed of yourself. What would Aunt Marci think if she knew you were in love with a villain?

He pulled you onto his lap so that you straddled him, wrapping his arms around your waist so you were caged to his chest. "Are you sure tou don't hate me?" He asked. "You aren't only here telling me the things I want to hear because you're afraid of me?"

You frowned. "I wish that were the case. It would make this all a lot easier."

"You don't want to want to be with me, right? To love me?"

"Right," you agreed, your voice barely audible. You were worried how he might react knowing you were so apprehensive.

His expression didn't change. He didn't erupt into a fit of anger. He brushed the tips of his fingers through your hair before ghosting them along your jaw. "Then i'll just have to keep giving you reasons to want me."

Your lips met again and you melted in his arms. He ran a hand up the back of your shirt, pressing four fingers into your back so that he held you closer. You gasped at his touch and he took the opportunity to catch your bottom lip between his teeth, lightly tugging at it. It was all a painful reminder that, despite everything, you still burned for him.

   You were so weak.

He guided you back on the bed, spreading himself over you and bending to trail feather-light kisses along your neck. "I want to prove that you don't have to be afraid of me," he whispered, his breath tickling your skin.

"How are you going to do that?"

His teeth grazed along your neck. "I'll show you how gentle I can be."

"Tomura, I've already seen that side of you."

He lifted his head from your neck to meet your gaze. He was smirking. God, he was so beautiful. "Not like this."

You didn't even realize he'd grabbed your shirt until it disintegrated around you, flitting away from your body and leaving you feeling vulnerable beneath him, guarded only by the thin lace bra you wore.

He ran his fingers along the edge of it, humming to himself. "Pretty. I don't want to ruin it."

You frowned. "You know, I really wish you wouldn't ruin any of my clothes."

That made him laugh. He thought you were cute when you were mad. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it upset you so much. I just like giving you reasons to wear mine instead."

"I don't have a problem with wearing yours, I just don't want to have to keep spending money on clothes that actually fit me just for you to make them disappear in seconds."

"That's fair." He pressed his lips to your chest before trailing soft kisses down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your jeans. "But it really is so much quicker to decay them," he said as he fiddled with your belt and zipper.

You lifted your hips to help him guide your pants off of your legs. You were surprised when he dragged your panties along with them, exposing you to him. He ran the tips of his fingers down your thighs before settling between your legs. Your breath hitched at the sight alone.

He wove his arms under your legs so that he could grip your hips, pulling you closer to him. Your heart raced as you felt his breath against your core.

"Are you gonna make it?" He asked. "You're looking a bit flustered."

"Will you quit teasing me?"

He flashed a devilishly playful smile. "I'm not teasing you. I fully intend to give you everything you want. It's not my fault if you lack patience."

He placed a gentle kiss on your clit, the rough cracks of his lips creating enough friction to make your toes curl, but it was the soft warmth of his tongue against you that finally drew a moan from your throat. He hummed his satisfaction, which only added to the sensations as he continued exploring your heat with his mouth.

"Tomura, fuck. . ."

Your hand moved to grip his hair, needing something to ground you in reality as pleasure overtook your body and clouded your mind. His tongue moved faster against your clit, rushing you closer to your orgasm. It wasn't long before you completely fell apart, pulling at his hair and crying out his name. Once you'd gotten past the peak of your climax, he moved to lay next to you. He propped himself up on his elbow and lazily ran a few fingers through your hair.

"I'm surprised," you said.

"What do you mean?"

"No games."

"I told you."

"Maybe you aren't so evil after all," you joked.

He laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. "Don't tell the others."

"I dunno, you might have to buy my silence," you teased.

"What's your price?"

You snaked a hand behind his neck and pulled him into a kiss, hooking your leg over his hip at the same time so you could press his body against yours. He smirked against your lips, chuckling to himself.

You broke away from him. "What?"

"Was that your answer?"

You avoided the question, instead tugging at his shirt. "This isn't fair. I'm practically naked."

"So that's a yes?"

"Will you just shut up and take your clothes off?"

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head at you. "So impatient. We'll have to work on that."

Despite his chastisement, he listened. He pulled his clothes off and threw them next to yours on the floor before reaching behind you to unhook your bra. His hands covered your breasts, careful as always to keep at least one finger off of you. Then, he leaned into your chest and replaced one of your hands with his mouth, sucking bruises on your skin and flicking his tongue against your nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to contain a moan, not wanting to seem anymore desperate, but it just became a whimper in your throat. You felt him smile against your chest and move his free hand down to between your legs. You were so wet that he slid two fingers in you like it was nothing. He scissored them back and forth, stretching you out as he continued toying with your nipples. You couldn't contain yourself any longer. You tugged at his hair as you moaned his name.

"What is it, baby?" He asked.

You grabbed at his hip, trying to pull him closer to you.

"You want something?"

"Stop teasing me. You said no games."

He feigned a sudden realization. "Ohh, you want me in here?" He thrusted his fingers deeper into you, making sure to curl them over your g-spot and drag another moan from your throat.

"Fuck. Yes."

He kissed your forehead. "Of course, baby."

With the hand that was on your chest, he steadied himself on the bed, and with the other he lined his tip up with your entrance. There were no games. He didn't tease you, he didn't make you beg, he just eased himself in until you were completely filled. You arched against him and dug your nails into his shoulders, loving the feeling of him stretching you out.

"Am I good to move?" He asked after a moment, gently brushing his nose against yours.

You nodded.

He slowly pulled his hips back before sinking into you again, repeating the motion over and over until he found a good rhythm.

His movements were different this time. Before, he had seemed desperate, slamming into you at a rough pace. Now, his stokes were slow, controlled, passionate—like he was using his body to show you all of the things he couldn't say out loud. He was begging you to stay, to love him, to give him a chance to be the person you'd originally thought he was.

And despite all of the alarms going off in your head, you knew you would.

You could feel the knot building once more in the pit of your stomach. He was pushing you closer to the edge with each languid movement, and you could tell by his breathing that he was getting closer too.

At one point he paused and grabbed one of the pillows from the bed, lifting your hips and setting you back down on it. The new angle that it provided was absolutely euphoric. He reached deeper than before, rolling his hips so that he hit all of the right spots.

"Tomura," you moaned.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"Yes."

"Are you close?"

You nodded.

"You wanna cum with me?"

"Please," you begged.

"I gonna count you down, alright?"

"Okay."

"Five."

He moved his hand between you.

"Four."

He started drawing quick circles over your clit with his thumb.

"Three."

You could feel your pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.

"T-fuck-two."

You dug your nails into his skin, arching against him.

"One."

You both fell apart, panting and moaning as you let your pleasure wash over you. He caught your lips in a sloppy kiss before moving down your neck, trying to cover every inch of your skin. He wanted you to understand how much he loved you—how much he worshipped you. He wouldn't let you go so easily.

The two of you cleaned up and Tomura gave you another sweatshirt to borrow since he'd decayed your shirt. There was no bathroom attached to his room, so you had to go down the hall. You hadn't taken more than two steps on your way back to his room when you heard a mocking voice.

"Ohhh, Tooomura," He said in a tone meant to mimic your own. "God, it's fucking pathetic."

You turned to see the man from before—the one who'd been a jerk to you in the bar—leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Your cheeks felt hot—a combination of rage and embarrassment. Had he been listening in on you two?

"It's Dabi, right?" You asked. "Look, I don't know what the fuck your problem is, but will you just leave me the hell alone?"

He kicked off of the wall, closing the distance between you and getting in your face. "My problem is you. I've got big plans for my future and the league can help me see them through, but not if you're here. You're too much of a distraction. You'll just end up making Shigaraki soft—him and the rest of the league."

"I'm not trying to be a distraction," you insisted.

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "It's only a matter of time before you brainwash Shigaraki into thinking that what we're doing is pointless. Love is like a fucking poison."

He shoved past you and disappeared down the hallway. You must've seemed off when you got back to Tomura's room because a look of concern quickly spread across his face.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Fine," you replied, clenching and unclenching your fists as you kept your gaze trained on the floor. You were trying to keep your anger from bubbling over and causing you to do something stupid. How could Dabi think you were bad for Tomu? You wouldn't make him soft. You wouldn't make him give up on the world he was trying to create—a world where everyone was equal. Why would you?

"Are you sure?"

You finally looked up at him. Your determination was radiating off of you as you announced: "I want to join the league."

[pomplalamoose]

DILF Luke headcanons / story draft pt. 4

🌿modern day AU🌿

A/N: you know, I actually have a collection of ideas and notes I keep wanting to integrate into my Dilf Luke posts and yet I completely ignored it AGAIN in order to go off the rails with something else (this has been going on for several posts) anywaysssss I hope you have fun, mwuah <33

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5

• as it turns out Luke isn't as unaffected by the night you spent together as he unintentionally makes you believe 

• and how could he ever be?

• he might be able to pretend like nothing happened but inwardly has to deal with a lot of conflicting feelings

• first and foremost he's afraid he scared you away with his intense behavior and stern orders, his loud voice and the demand you stay with him

• after all you haven't been over to visit his child ever since, maybe you fear to be around him?

• he could never judge you for it either, you, who always are so gentle and timid around him

• he simply overdid it this time, overstepped a line and it's in your right to act accordingly

• thinking back on it now he's only able to shake his head at himself and at the way he treated you 

• in the heat of the moment it all seemed so strangely justified, every action he took only with your best interest and well being in mind

• but since a little time has passed he sees that a calmer, more conventional approach probably wouldn't have you avoiding him presently

• left to his own devices he's helplessly replaying how he dragged you into the bathroom and made you strip in front of him, even intervening by ripping off your clothes himself when you took too long for his liking 

• he completely disregarded how you might have felt in the moment, that quite possibly you did not want to undress in front of your best friend's father 

• let alone be undressed by him

• it would've been better to drive you home afterwards too, what went on in his mind to deny you?

• you are an adult, he doesn't own you, who did he think he was to forbid you from leaving?

• Luke doesn't know, of course, that the complete opposite is the case

• you very much wish for him to acknowledge his actions that night 

• and neither are you actively avoiding him, your friend is making you stay away for research purposes 

• "let him stew for a while", they said, "and we'll see how long it takes him to ask for your whereabouts again"

• your friend still isn't exactly thrilled about the situation, but it definitely piqued their interest 

• they want to know what's going on

• why is their father playing hot and cold with you?

• they are not amused he's towing you along like this, they really expected better from him

• meanwhile Luke is doing his best to deny that, if he'd listen closely to himself, he'd have to admit what else upsets him so badly 

• to him, even worse than his brashness is the secret knowledge that he enjoyed himself 

• very much 

• finally, he felt, could he rake control, do what needed to be done 

• and you followed him so nicely too, looking at him for guidance, never questioning, never contradicting anything he said

• your blind, even naive obedience touched him deeply

• he felt so needed

• oh and the way you looked at him; if he had a say you'd never be allowed to look at any other man ever again

• he wishes for your eyes to be only on him

• only for him

• but to confront all of this would also mean confessing to himself how he, in turn, looks at you

• how he thinks of you

• the feeling isn't unknown, nothing new, but still comes as a surprise after all this time

• so he's not ready yet to admit how much he wants you all to himself 

• and how could he?

• you're his child's best friend, it's not his place to swoop in and take you away

• he knows how much you mean to them

• and yet he can't help himself despite how ashamed he is 

• again and again he touches himself to the thought of you

• to all the things he could do to you and make you do in return 

• the thoughts come so easily and just won't stop, never leaving him alone 

• would you follow his orders as eagerly as you did so far?

• or would you take on a different approach, maybe turn into a little brat? 

• someone he'd need to teach a lesson to first?

• of course for that you'd need to learn how to be less shy in his vicinity first, could he make that work?

• mmh, he's not sure how he likes you better anyways 

• maybe you'd be open for a little game?

• though no matter in which direction his imagination takes him, always it returns to the picture you made on the floor in front of him, tears running over your soft cheeks, a pleading look in your eyes

• he could do without the tears, but, truth to be told, you are remarkably pretty when you cry 

• so they stay and all that changes are your surroundings

• he wants you to be comfortable of course, you're not supposed to shiver in the cold or sit on hard stone floor 

• you'd be much better off kneeling on a nice cushion in the living room, or on the plush carpet in his office 

• meanwhile his child is watching him like a hawk, intentionally not bringing you up in conversation even once 

• sooner or later he just HAS to do something, mention something, ask even the littlest of questions

• so their theory, at least 

• and they are right, they know their father well after all

• Luke folds after not even two weeks to comment on your prolonged absence from their house 

• he's so busy playing it cool he doesn't realize the way his kid can barely suppress a giggle 

• "and what did you say???", you immediately want to know when they tell you about it the next day

• "nothing", says your friend and laughs at your face "I want him going wild"

• a few days later he asks whether you fell ill after getting caught in the storm 

• like seriously, is everything okay?

• don't they want to go check on you, make sure nothing's wrong?

• are you struggling mentally again?

• did you guys have a falling out?

• are you on vacation?

• your friend keeps a successful poker face through it all, again and again telling him in a noncholant way how busy you are

• and why is he asking about you so much anyways?

• it's not like you're coming over to visit HIM...right?

• Luke retreats at that immediately and it takes him a while to come out of his shell again

• though only barely does he keep himself from grabbing and shaking the answers out of his child 

• "he's sooooo dramatic" your friend tells you "one could think he's a teenager with how he's acting"

• soon they start contemplating and scheming on what they could say about you to unsettle him a bit

• at this point you beg them to stop interfering, to stop putting themselves between the fronts like this 

• it's okay, you assure them, you can let their father go

• but they're not having it

• this isn't about playing matchmaker 

• you are their friend and they'll make sure you're getting treated right even if they have to go up against their dad for it 

• he's a grown man and he needs to start acting like it!

• your protests fall on deaf ears 

• "No, you listen to ME. I refuse to stand by and watch while my dad is playing hard to get. He's either going to tell you to your face he's not interested or, if that's the case, admit he feels drawn to you! He didn't have a problem with that all the many other times it happened."

• you can't deny they have a point and since they know him better than you do, what else is there left to say?

• the next you hear of them is when you receive a quick text with no context whatsoever 

• "listen I think I overdid it a little bit"

• you blankly blink at your phone, no idea what's going on, though you have the sinking feeling it's somehow related to their father 

• the next messages is just as unnerving but proves you right 

• "yeah uhhh sorry about that but he's coming to pick you up"

• "no way", is your immediate thought just before you get a call that makes you nearly drop your phone

• of course it's Luke, of course 

• where did he get your number?

• and what in the hell did your friend tell him?

• you pick up and before you can even finish saying hello he demands to know where you are

• judging by the sounds in the background he's already in the car and most definitely not in a good mood

• accordingly quick comes your answer and your heart unclenches with relief when his voice somewhat softens 

• "be a good girl and wait for me outside then"

• you're so caught off guard it takes you a while to pack your things and search for your jacket and when you step out into the cold he's already waiting for you, leaning against his car

• judging by the way he's dressed he's either coming straight from work or originally planned to go there before God knows what made him change his plans 

• he doesn't look amused and as your heart speeds up so do your steps 

• so eager to make up for the time lost, you nearly bumb into him as you struggle to come to a stop before him 

• if he's annoyed he doesn't show it and nevertheless opens the passenger side's door for you, waiting patiently for you to climb in 

• you're horribly embarrassed when you spot your reflection in the rearview mirror 

• your hair is tousled beyond repair, your cheeks a flaming red from running 

• desperately holding on to your bag like it's an anchor you watch as he slides in beside you 

• but instead of starting the motor and driving off, he turns to properly look at you, his right hand holding on to your head rest 

• you swear you can feel yourself shrinking into the seat as his eyes bore into yours 

• shyly you greet him 

• you don't know what else to do

• a brief smile flits across his face before it grows stern again 

• "who is it?"

• "just tell me and I'll take care of it"

• to say you're confused would be an understatement but as he continues, it slowly dawns on you 

• your friend made up a toxic relationship for you to be in 

• and their father is furious 

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Zeetha, Daughter of Klaus Ch 1/3

Fandom: Girl Genius Summary: Twenty years ago, Queen Zantabraxus gave birth to twins. Twenty years ago, Klaus had a choice to make. Twenty years ago, Klaus brought one of his children with him when he fled back to Europa.

In one universe, he took his son.

In this one, he took his daughter.

A very brief look at what happens when you have to play a part that wasn't written for you, trapped in a narrative that belongs to someone else.

AO3 Link Ch 2 Ch 3

Klaus Wulfenbach could not have made a more dramatic entrance if he’d planned it. The only reason Agatha felt he hadn’t was because she couldn’t think why he would waste it on such an unimportant audience.

The Baron strode into the room with his hands behind his back, his face a mask that managed to be both emotionless and displeased at the same time. Four massive war clanks, gleaming in the overhead lights, formed a protective square around the Baron and his entourage, led by a fearsome Jägermonster. Walking just behind Klaus on his right was a four-armed man scribbling industriously into a notebook. On his left, a girl about Agatha’s age, dressed in a charcoal grey suit and an embroidered waistcoat.

Being Agatha's height and only slightly broader in the shoulders, she should have been dwarfed by the Baron, but she exuded a proud, boisterous air that refused to be ignored; emphasized by her large brown eyes and wide mouth, both bright with barely-concealed amusement. Agatha was sure that she would have made as striking a presence as the Baron...if it wasn't for the hair. 

Dull, coarse, mousey brown, worn short in an unflattering bob, it was all the more eye-catching for how out of place it was on a person otherwise so sleek. Surely, Agatha thought, she had to know. Color and texture, one could only do so much, but haircuts were on purpose.

Suddenly the girl met Agatha’s eyes and grinned, revealing very sharp canines. Agatha, realizing she'd been caught staring, gave her a tight smile and looked instead at Beetle, who was fluttering around Klaus like a nervous butterfly, insisting that they could have this conversation elsewhere, there was no need to bother the professors.

“Damn it all, Klaus, this is my university!”

“In my town. In my empire. These are the ones I asked for?” he continued, nodding to the doctors before Beetle could say more. The Tyrant, red in the face, gritted his teeth.

“Dr Silas Merlot, my second in command and Dr Hugo Glassvitch, my chief of research.” Absentmindedly he waved a hand at Agatha. “And my lab assistant Miss Cl—”

Beetle whipped around to look at Agatha, his expression one of frantic horror that Agatha thought was far too dramatic.

“Miss Clay! Where is your locket?”

“I was robbed on my way here,” Agatha said, twisting her fingers together. “There was some sort of electrical anomaly, and I was trying to get away from it when I was…”

Beetle was barely listening.

“In my city? I’ll have the watch commander’s head for this!” He grabbed her arm and began to hustle her towards the door. “You must go home, my dear, you are clearly shaken--”

“Actually I feel much bett—”

“Nononono, I’ll not hear it, you must—”

A heavy hand landed on Agatha’s shoulder.

“Wait. This event—you saw it?” The Baron leaned over her, practically blocking out the light, fixing her with an intense, piercing gaze that made Agatha feel like a specimen under a microscope.

“Yes, sir. I was right there.”

“Stay. I have questions—but they must wait for later.”

“I can do it.” This was the mystery girl, stepping in closer to Agatha—who was starting to feel penned in. “I’ll take her home. It may be easier to interview her in a more comfortable setting. Besides—you don’t need me here for this.”

“That’s really not nec—” Agatha began.

“I would prefer you be here for this,” the Baron snapped, turning his focus from Agatha to his associate, who did not seem at all bothered by the laser glare.

“But you don’t need me,” the girl insisted. “And have you considered, Father, that you may not want her here for this?”

Father? This was—this was the Baron’s daughter? Agatha had heard the rumors about Zeetha Wulfenbach, everyone had, although the rumors couldn’t agree on much besides the fact that the Baron had announced her out of nowhere only a few months ago.

Then the rest of the girl’s statement hit her, and Agatha’s face went red. She must have heard about Agatha’s... problem from someone in the university—and very few people would have been kind about it. They probably told her she broke everything she touched, and Zeetha wanted her out of the way where she couldn’t do any damage.

“ I said I’m fine !” Agatha snapped. Everyone stared, and Agatha cleared her throat as her cheeks went red. “ Thank you . I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m. Fine.”

“There,” the Baron said. “The matter is finished. We can attend to business.”

He turned away, wandering towards the machine in the center of the room. Zeetha caught Agatha’s eye and, to Agatha’s amazement, winked at her. With a small, approving smile touching her lips, Zeetha followed her father.

She didn’t have any more time to think about it, because the Baron said:

“The real reason I wanted to meet here today, Beetle, is because I am here about the hive engine.”

“ What?” Agatha yelped. No one noticed her. Instead, the Baron advanced slowly on Beetle, who backed away.

“Hive engine, what—what are you talking about?” Beetle stammered.

“The hive engine. The on the field team stumbled across two weeks ago. The one you had moved into the university for study. The one you have been testing. The one that, based on changes in laboratory schedules and chemical requisitions, is in this room.”

The Baron was very good at looming, and he did so now, staring down at Beetle with contempt.

“ That hive engine.”

“Preposterous!” Beetle blustered, drawing himself up. “Where could I possibly be hiding a hive engine?”

Zeetha had begun to meander towards the storage closet. Agatha noticed—as Zeetha had—that the rivets were straining, the wood of the door bulging as it gradually weakened against internal pressure.

“You’re certainly hiding something in here,” Zeetha said, casually.

“No, wait—!” Agatha cried.

“I don’t think I will,” Zeetha said, almost playfully, and turned the handle.

“ Nooooo!”

A wave of paperwork, lab equipment, and anything else Agatha had found that wasn’t nailed down or too heavy to carry, erupted from the storage closet. Agatha cringed, squeezing her eyes shut at the cacophony of her work being undone. When it stopped and she dared open her eyes, Zeetha was standing untouched beside the pile, having neatly stepped to the side upon opening the door.

She was holding a goldfish bowl in one hand, its occupant swimming in frantic circles as the water sloshed back and forth but did not spill a drop.

“Oh.”

“Hive engines are slightly bigger than that,” the Baron said, icily.

“ I know that ,” Zeetha snapped, her cheeks going slightly pink. “I thought it might have been something guarding the mechanism to open that false wall back there.”

Wordlessly, Klaus crossed the room towards the back wall and pulled a large lever. He kept his eyes on Zeetha, who turned a brighter pink as the far wall trembled and mechanisms hummed. A section of the wall slid neatly into the floor to reveal--

To reveal the most horrible thing Agatha had ever seen in her life. A massive orb of metal and glass, full of black liquid that swirled, rose, fell, tendrils sliding over the glass as if looking for a way out. And there were...things. Shapeless things moving in the dark, and Agatha could see glimpses of teeth or eyes or terrible, terrible faces.

“One rule, Beetle. I made one rule: report all unusual discoveries, and immediately turn over any devices of the Other. You agreed to this rule.”

“I had no choice!” Beetle shouted. “You had me over a barrel! It was you or let the city starve!”

“So that was it? You kept it in the middle of the city—in the middle of the university ,” Zeetha spat, “and put your people at risk of the worst fate imaginable, so you could get one over on the Baron? I should—”

Her right hand flew to her left hip and closed around empty air. Zeetha growled in frustration and lunged forward, only for the Baron to grab her by the collar and pull her back.

“And yet,” Klaus said, as if there had been no interruption, “you signed the agreement. Which means—”

“It meant nothing then, and it means nothing now! I don’t need you or your empire now! So you can just get out!”

“Just like that?” Klaus asked, dryly.

Overhead there was a crack, a splintering of wood, groaning of timbers, and a metal gun the size of a large tractor leveled itself at the Baron.

“DO NOT MOVE,” boomed Professor Tock.

“Just like that,” Beetle confirmed, smugly, and cackled.

There was a pause as the Wulfenbachs considered their situation.

“Are you stupid?” Zeetha asked, finally. Beetle let out a squawk of outrage.

“How dare you!”

“Zeetha, do not antagonize the man with the large gun pointing at us,” Klaus said, wearily.

“Listen to your father, girl ,” Beetle sneered.

“He doesn’t have a large gun," Zeetha argued. "His clank has a big gun.”

“Which is still pointed directly at you,” Beetle said, “so if I were you I would hold my tongue!”

“If you were me, you’d know better than to think this would be a successful method of stopping us. See, that’s the problem with Sparks like you—you only think about the size of the gun and how much firepower you can give it. You never think about the downside!”

“...what downside?” Beetle asked, taking a slow, nervous step back.

“Things that are big…”

The air blurred. Agatha blinked, and Zeetha was standing directly behind Beetle, one arm around his throat, her free hand holding a knife beside his face.

“...are slow.”

It took several seconds for Tok’s head to turn all the way to see where she’d gone; even longer for the gun to ponderously swing towards Zeetha and Beetle. It paused halfway as Tok’s mechanism finished calculating the risk to its creator, and swung back towards the Baron.

Zeetha nodded to Agatha. “You might want to put that somewhere out of the way.”

Agatha looked down and realized she was holding the goldfish bowl. She looked back up at Zeetha in amazement. She’d never known anyone who could move that fast who wasn’t a construct.

“Now,” Zeetha said, smugly, and panic hit Agatha’s heart like a misfired lightning bolt.

“Don’t!” she cried, putting the fishbowl on the table so she could reach out imploringly. “Don’t kill him, please! We...we need him.”

“You need him?” Zeetha exclaimed. “You need a man who was one minor accident away from wasping your city? And what about that gun? You’re right within shrapnel range—if it shoots now, you could be hurt, maybe even killed! People keep telling me that the Tyrant keeps them safe, but I’m not seeing a whole lot of safety in this room right now.”

Agatha didn’t know what to say to that. She was saved from having to answer by Beetle himself piping up.

“Don’t worry, Miss Clay. She can’t kill me.” Beetle was pale and sweating, but he was also sneering. “The moment she does, Tok will open fire, and the Baron will have to be buried in a matchbox—Hgk!”

He choked as Zeetha’s grip tightened, her forearm pressing down against his windpipe.

“That’s true,” Zeetha said. “We’re in a proper standoff. Neither of us can make a move. But here’s the thing—I’m still going to win, because I’ve got something you never even considered for yourself.”

“And what is that?” Beetle asked, his nerves once more beginning to show.

Zeetha grinned, a wolf-sharp grin of victory. She leaned in and spoke in a stage whisper.

“ Backup.”

The side of Tock’s head exploded. The clank rocked sideways, its gun swinging up and out, flailing as it tried to keep itself from falling. A squad of airships, guns drawn and aimed at the oversized clank, drifted into view. Zeetha’s lip curled and Beetle cried out in dismay as another salvo struck Tok. This time the great clank stumbled back, losing its grip on the roof of the building, which slammed back into place with a crash that cracked the plaster on the walls.

A few seconds later, an even bigger impact shook the ground under their feet.

“We arrived here in a massive airship surrounded by lots of other airships, all of which are equipped to shoot very large targets—what did you think was going to happen? Were you going to hope no one would notice?”

“Guar--!” Beetle began to scream and again was cut off as Zeetha tightened her grip.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re done and you know it. The only reason you’re alive right now is my father thinks you’re more useful to us that way. But you would be equally useful as a head in a jar. Which would you prefer?”

Very slowly, without a word, Beetle raised his hands in surrender. Zeetha smirked and released him. Twirling the knife neatly over her fingers, she sauntered back to the others.

“I told you not to bring weapons,” Klaus said.

“You told me not to bring my sword ,” Zeetha said, unrepentant. “You didn’t say anything about knives.”

Agatha couldn’t take her eyes off of Beetle. He looked so small, standing alone in the middle of the room. He stared at the floor, his hands repeatedly smoothing over his jacket and waistcoat.

“Useful,” he mumbled. “Oh yes. I know what use you would have for me, Klaus.”

The Baron looked sharply at Beetle.

“What was that?”

“Useful,” Beetle murmured again. His signet ring snagged on one of the beetle broaches on his jacket and it popped off into his hand. Beetle stared at it, blankly. “You want me to be useful.”

Zeetha shifted her weight, uneasily.

“Tarsus,” Klaus said, carefully. “Whatever it is you believe I intend—”

Beetle suddenly looked up. His eyes were wild and his lips were bared in a horrible grimace; his grip was white-knuckled on the broach.

“I will show you useful. ”

And flung out his hand.

Wings snapped open and the beetle shot towards them, zigzagging wildly but with unerring aim.

Agatha was frozen in place. The Jägermonster began to run towards them, but everything had slowed to a crawl—everything but the beetle.

And Zeetha.

Who grabbed the fishbowl off the table, caught the goldfish, removed her hand from the water, swung the bowl like a butterfly net and neatly scooped the bomb out of the air.

Electricity crackled through the water, the beetle flashing brightly once before fizzling. It bobbed to the surface , a thin stream of smoke escaping from its carapace.

Setting the fishbowl back down, Zeetha grabbed the beetle by one mechanical leg and drew it out of the water before dropping the fish back inside.

“You should probably change the water,” Zeetha told Agatha, smiling smugly. “No idea what’s in these.”

Beetle slowly sank to his knees. Agatha felt tears rise to her eyes at the look on his face—that of a man who has been utterly broken.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby ,” Zeetha scoffed. “You’re going to be fine. Here. You can even have your little toy back.”

As if she were flipping a coin, Zeetha lazily tossed the tiny clank at Beetle’s feet.

It exploded.

Agatha felt heat on her face, and then she was landing on the ground, hard. Strong arms pinned her in place, practically crushing her to the body curled protectively around her. The noise rattled Agatha’s eardrums; she could feel it vibrating in her bones.

Then it was gone, leaving an audial aftershock of hissing smoke and tinkling glass. Carefully, Zeetha unfolded from around Agatha, releasing her from her unexpectedly vice-like grip, sitting back and staring at the destruction before her.

“But...” she said. “No, but--! But I neutralized it!”

“You neutralized the machinery that allowed the bomb to move ,” the Baron said, coldly. “You did not neutralize the elements that made the bomb explode.”

“ What? That’s ridiculous! You can’t half-neutralize something!”

Agatha stared in horror at the blackened remains of Doctor Tarsus Beetle, charred beyond all recognition.

“No,” Agatha whispered. Beside her, Zeetha flinched. “No! Dr Beetle!”

“His head,” the Baron said, sharply. “How is—”

Dr Glassvitch shook his head, his expression grief-stricken.

“ Damn it all.”

“You killed him,” Agatha whispered.

“Not on purpose!” Zeetha exclaimed, embarrassed.

“Perhaps next time,” the Baron said, “you will engage in confrontations with a little more care, and a little less showboating.”

Zeetha’s eyes narrow.

“Oh yes , Herr Baron,” she said, getting up off the floor. “How foolish of me. Next time someone throws a bomb at me, I’ll be sure to stand there and let it hit me.”

“Dun vorry, Mizz Zeetha,” the Jäger said, jovially, holding up some unidentifiable organ. “Hy dun tink he vould haff been verr useful anyvay—Hy izn’t findink a whole lot of brains in diz mess.”

“Herr Baron, may we leave now?” At last, the Baron’s secretary spoke, his voice tinged equally with exasperation and irritation. “My feet are sticking to the floor.”

Agatha erupted to her feet.

“How dare you!” she screamed, breathless with anger—though not so breathless she could not find her voice. Everyone—even the Baron—drew back in alarm. And that felt good, it felt. . .it felt right. They should be cowering before her! They should be filled with dread for invoking her wrath! How dare they come into her place like this!

“Is this some kind of a joke to everyone? Doctor Beetle is dead! The greatest ruler this city has ever seen was killed, and you’re complaining about your shoes? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The people of this city will never stand for this! They will rise up and they will —”

Agony, lightning and knives and fire, burst in Agatha’s head with such ferocity she felt it halfway down her spine. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her head as tears of pain and frustration poured down her cheeks.

Worse than the pain was the loss—that ferocious sense of surety and strength melted away in the rising swell of humiliation. She did not need to open her eyes to know the look the others would now be giving her. Whatever Dr Glassvitch said was muffled and unintelligible.

The Baron’s murmured “Pathetic ” was loud and clear.

But both Agatha and the Baron missed the expressions that flitted over Zeetha and the Jägermonster’s faces—her, a flinch, hurt that wanted to be anger but wasn’t; him, bitter disappointment not quite managing to snuff out desperate hope.

“She just watched her mentor explode ,” Zeetha said. “I think this is a pretty understandable reaction.”

“Hmm. She was right. The people may cause a problem if this is not handled delicately.”

“That’s not what I—”

“It may not be such an issue, Herr Baron,” Merlot said, helpfully. “Very few people actually saw Dr Beetle on a reg—”

“ Silence.” Klaus’ voice was as cold as death and nailed everyone in the room in place. “Do not imagine me ignorant of your complicity, doctor. You both knew about the hive engine; you both helped Beetle hide it. The only reason you two are not in a transport headed for Castle Heterodyne this moment is that I am aware neither of you were in a position to resist the orders of the Tyrant if you did want to.

“As Doctor Beetle’s second in command, I leave the running of the town in your hands, Dr Merlot. Dr Glassvitch will be responsible for the university.”

Glassvitch went pale.

“I—but, but I’m not qualified—”

The Baron loomed.

“I recommend you acquire qualification with speed , because t he moment either of you give me cause to so much as suspect your involvement was willing, there will be... consequences.”

“I...But…”

The Baron turned away, waving a hand.

“I want all of the existing notes on the hive engine collated and sent to me by the end of the day. Boris will tell your assistant where to bring them.”

But Merlot’s eyes had locked onto Agatha, who had already braced herself for the inevitable.

“I have no need for an assistant as useless as this one. Miss Clay, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, doctor,” Agatha murmured, eyes downcast. “When I come to class tomorrow, I’ll get my things.”

She felt it. There was no sound, she could not see him react, but she felt Glassvitch’s guilt like heat from a fire. She turned her head. Her eyes met his. He did not need to say it.

“No,” she whispered.

“Agatha—”

“ No, you can’t—”

“ Please understand,” Glassvitch begged. “I am not Beetle; I do not have the kind of sway he did. I will not have the time or the power to protect you here—”

“So you’re just, just going to throw me out?”

Zeetha grabbed her father’s arm.

“ Do something!” she hissed. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Stop him!”

“It is his university.”

“Only because you gave it to him! This is only happening to her because of us! ”

“Us? Or you?”

Zeetha went rigid and released her father as if he had burned her.

“You were my friend ,” Agatha said, tears once more streaming down her cheeks.

“I am ,” Glassvitch said. His expression was agonized. Agatha did not care. “I promise, when things have settled, I will come visit you—”

She jerked away when he tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t bother,” she spat. With all the dignity she had, she turned on her heel and left the room with her head held high.

Glassvitch shut his eyes and rubbed his face.

“Herr Baron, please allow me to send someone with her to walk her home. I fear she may have another attack—”

Zeetha shoved him aside and stormed towards the door, following Agatha.

“Zeetha!” Klaus said, sharply.

“ I’ll get her home safe,” Zeetha snapped over her shoulder. Under her breath, she added, “I owe her that much, at least.”