#I realized like in the line art phase that they were on opposite sides of where they were meant to be

[ssspork]

“I know I’m a terrible person, even outside what they made me do. I’ve done horrible things to people who cared about me before, why would this be any different” WHYY WOULD YOU HURT ME THIS WAY NOO UR NOT UR NOT A TERRIBLE PERSON

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Cliche (J.HS)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of hook ups, suggestive content, way too many cliches

Word Count : 5289

Synopsis : hoseok wasn’t one for cliches, but when they come to her, maybe they aren’t so bad. 

They couldn’t be more opposite. Like a good versus evil movie in real life, minus all the fighting. One look at both of them and it was obvious that in any other scenario, they would never give each other a second glance.

           She was what one could describe as a goody two shoes. One look at her knee length, flowy skirt with her blouse, buttoned to the top, tucked in could tell you that. Always seen with a book, or her equally as good friends. Quiet and soft spoken, nearly invisible. She focused on school instead of boys. But for one night, she wanted to forget all of that. She didn’t want to be a goody two shoes.

           He was the bad boy; ripped jeans and leather jackets. He rode his motorcycle to school everyday, catching the attention of every girl in school. Always seen with a new girl and his boisterous friends, he was someone a good girl would run from. Never one for cliches, Jung Hoseok would steer clear of the good girls, refusing to be the one to corrupt them. He would leave that to his best friend, Min Yoongi. But for just one night, he would give into the cliché.

           She told her friends she would have to skip their weekly movie night as there was a major project due that she wanted to work on instead. Rejecting her best friend, Jimin’s, offer for help, she busied herself. One look in the mirror, she knew her entire look would have to change if she wanted his attention. She traded her pink skirt and white blouse for a red dress. One that left little to the imagination. Adding some liner and lipstick, she slid her feet into a pair of strappy heels, and she left for the club she heard he would be at.

           Lights flashing and music pounding; it took a bit of adjusting. She found herself letting loose after only a couple of drinks. She noticed him across the room, chatting up a pretty blonde, and she knew she needed to get his attention soon. Just for one night, she wouldn’t be the good girl.

           His eyes were on the slender body of the pretty blonde flirting with him, and he was debating leaving early to take her home, when Yoongi hit him on the shoulder, pointing to a girl wearing a little red dress. She was swaying her hips to the music while sipping on her drink, catching the attention of nearly every guy in the club. He had to have her.

           The pretty blonde was long forgotten as he made his way towards the girl in the red dress, familiar but he couldn’t quite place where he knew her. He introduced himself with his famous smirk, and she knew she had won. He offered to buy her a drink and she took one look at her half empty glass, chugging it and agreeing to his offer. He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips as he led her back to the bar, a hand rest dangerously close to her ass.

           He spent the night using every trick in the book, and she spent the night basking in his attention. “What do you say we get out of here?” He finally whispered into her ear, loud enough for her to hear over the booming bass. Hoseok waved goodbye to the group he arrived with and left with her under his arm.

           A shiver ran down her spine as they stepped out into the chilly air, much colder than the sweat filled club. Without thinking, he slid his leather jacket off and placed it on her shoulders, leaving one arm draped across her and pulling her closer as they walked.

           When they got to his apartment, the two of them wasted no time, clothes falling to the floor as their lips met in a heated, lust filled kiss. It was a long night filled with lust and moans. Sweat dripped from his forehead after the third round and he let out a chuckle as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

           She was gone long before he awoke the next afternoon; heading home to shower and change to meet up with her friends for their weekly lunch date. “Movie night wasn’t the same without you.” Jungkook pouted when she sat at their table.

           “I won’t miss another.” She promised. She had her night of letting go of her good girl persona. Though she had the time of her life, along with the best sex she’d ever had, it wasn’t going to become a habit of hers.

           When Monday rolled around, rumours of a new girl spread like wildfire. A new girl that already scored time in bed with Hoseok. She held her books closer to her body as Jimin asked a passing senior why everyone seemed to care about this new girl. “Hoseok can’t stop talking about her. Says she was the best lay he’s ever had.” Her cheeks practically glowed a rosy colour at this information.

           Her and Jimin were walking passed the parking lot where Hoseok and his buddies hung out when Taehyung called out to her. She turned to face the parking lot where Tae was locking his car, but it was Hoseok’s eyes she met. At the sound of her name, he was looking around, ignoring his friends, wondering if it was the same girl from Friday night. His eyes stopped on her; confusion written on his face when Tae draped his arm across her shoulders. It couldn’t be.

           But he recognized her eyes. He recognized the confident smile dancing across her lips. Most importantly, he recognized her soft voice. The same voice that was moaning his name just a couple nights prior was now talking art with Taehyung. She disappeared into the crowd of students, and Hoseok was left more confused than ever. Did he give into a cliché without even realizing it? He had to know.

           So, when her last class ended and she walked to the parking lot to wait for Tae, he was there, leaning against his motorcycle. She met his eyes again, but quickly looked away, refusing to give into whatever possessed her Friday night. “Y/N.” Her name rolled off his tongue like he was the only one meant to say it. She hated that such a simple thing caused her to stop and look at him. She hated how easily he wrapped her around his finger. One night was all he needed, and she was longing for more. “You look different.” He smirked. “Leading a double life?” She turned to face him completely.

           “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, Jung Hoseok.” The chuckle that came from him let her know he knew she was lying. He pushed himself off the motorcycle and walked towards her. She took as many steps back as she could before she was pressed up against a car. Hoseok used that to his advantage, and placed his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her.

           “You can change your clothes, but you have a face that is unforgettable.” She scoffed at the obvious pickup line, trying to hide how much he truly affected her.

           “You had better game Friday.” She stated matter-of-factly. “What do you want, Jung Hoseok.”

           “You know, other girls would be dying to be in your shoes right now.” He chuckled, giving her a once over.

           “I think we both know I’m not other girls.”

           “Oh yeah, that’s obvious.” He licked his lips before biting on his bottom lip. “You know, I’ve never been one for cliches.” He added with a chuckle.

           “It was one night. It’s not like you’re going to fall in love with me and change your fuckboy ways.”

           “Are you sure that’s not what you want, princess?” He whispered in her ear, bringing one hand to trace her jawline, his thumb and pointer finger stopping to lightly grab her chin, tilting her head up ever so slightly. If this was high school, or even freshman year of college, she would be dying at the very thought of being with him romantically. He had always caught her attention, but he never spared her a glance. As he said, he’s not one for cliches, and he’s always been a rebel.

           She used to want him so bad, reading so many stories about the bad boy falling for the good girl. The fuckboy changing his ways for the one he loved. But as the years went on, her feelings of love turned into feelings of lust. She no longer wanted a bad boy boyfriend. She wanted his attention for one night, get it out of her system, and then fall in love with someone who could love her. “I got what I wanted already, Hoseok.” She spat, smacking his hand away from her face and turning to walk away from him. Why was he grabbing onto her wrist like a lovesick boy in a Korean drama? When she turned to look at him, she could tell even he wasn’t sure.

           “Why stop at just one night of fun, when you could come over again?” He smirked. Jung Hoseok never slept with the same girl twice. He never wanted them to get the wrong idea. Jung Hoseok did not do relationships. He didn’t fall in love. No one knew if there was a tragic backstory, like every cliché romance novel would tell you, but everyone knew he preferred one night and to not wake up to them the next day.

           Before she could answer, Taehyung was approaching them, anger written all over his face. “Get your hand off of her!” He screamed, pushing Hoseok away from her. “She isn’t going to fall for your charms, Jung Hoseok. Leave her alone.” Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that her friends had no idea where she was Friday night. They had no idea she was the rumoured new girl. The girl in the red dress that was driving Hoseok insane.

           “Taehyung, let’s go.” She said, quickly grabbing Taehyung’s arm, pulling him away from the stare down he was having with Hoseok, praying that Hoseok wouldn’t say anything.

           “Hope I’ll see you again this Friday!” Of course he had to say something. Before she could do anything, Taehyung was pulling away from her grip, storming back over to Hoseok and taking him by the collar of his jacket.

           “What the fuck did you just say?” Hoseok wasn’t even close to phased by the sudden altercation. In fact this is exactly what he was looking for.

           “Oh now this is fun.” He smirked seeing the anger in Taehyung’s eyes. “You’re in love with her.” His grip tightened on his collar. It took everything in Taehyung not to punch him in the face. He knew Hoseok could beat him in a fight, but he couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with her,” he repeated, “And I’m the one that slept with her.” He taunted, a playful smirk on his face.

           “Tae!” She called. His face softened at the mere sound of her voice. He looked over to her, tears welling up in her eyes, and then he looked back to Hoseok, throwing him to the ground.

           “Leave her alone.” He said again before walking back to Y/N. “Please tell me he’s lying, Y/N.” His voice was a lot softer when speaking to her compared to when he was screaming at Hoseok. His answer came with her silence.

           Hoseok didn’t see her that Friday, and though he was disappointed, he wasn’t surprised. She avoided even looking at him throughout the week, whereas Taehyung would glare at him every change he got. She was everywhere he was, despite him never seeing her until recently. Was she always around? How had Hoseok never seen her until now? “Why do you keep looking at Y/N?” Yoongi asked. “Isn’t corrupting good girls my thing?” He joked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

           “She’s the girl from last Friday.” Hoseok admitted with a smirk. “There’s definitely a bad girl dying to come out.” He added, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her walk around with her nose in a book. He watched as a door swung open and she paid no attention. Without thinking twice, he jumped into action, running towards her, grabbing her wrist, and spinning her into his arms. “Watch where you’re going, princess.” His famous smirk plastered on his face as she rolled her eyes. “What, no thank you?” He called after her as she walked away, and she just flipped him off, not paying him another glance. She was going to be the death of him.

           When word got out the following month that she was the girl driving Hoseok insane, her life completely changed. Her friends stopped inviting her for study sessions, movie nights, and lunch dates. No matter how much she apologized for lying, they wouldn’t talk to her.

           Guys were hitting on her, wanting a piece of the bad girl Hoseok claimed was hidden underneath all her long skirts and fully buttoned blouses.

           Girls started pushing her around. They began dumping drinks on her, throwing food at her. She had gone from practically invisible to the most known girl around school. And she had no one to protect her.

           It wasn’t until Hoseok was walking the halls, laughing his obnoxiously loud laugh, stopping when he saw a crowd gathering, that he knew things were bad. Him and his friends pushed the front of the crowd, seeing a group of girls gathered around her, cutting away at her clothes. “Hoseok says you have a nice body, why not let us all see.” One of the girls cackled, ripping her blouse open, the sound of button bouncing down the halls loud in Hoseok’s ears.

           “Enough!” He shouted, pushing the girls away from her and crouching in front of her. He had no second thoughts as he slipped his jacket from his body and wrapped it around her before wiping away the tears running down her cheeks. The crowd of people that was once laughing hysterically was now completely quiet. Yoongi was speechless watching his friend be so soft in front of so many people. Was this girl really driving him that insane? “Let me take you home.” He whispered, helping her to her feet.

           She didn’t think twice as she cuddled into him, hiding her face in his chest as he wrapped his arm tightly around her. “Thank you.” She whispered. And when she looked up at his face, expecting to see his signature smirk, she was surprised to see a genuine smile. In that moment, the feelings she swore were gone, turned to lust, hit her like a bus. He had the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen, and she didn’t want to go another day never seeing it again.

           She invited him inside when he pulled up outside her place. He obliged, turning his motorcycle off, and walking the couple flights of stairs up to her apartment. He sat on her couch, taking in the minimal décor, and smiling at the pictures of her and her friends she had hung. She quickly changed, sighing as she threw away her now tattered clothes.

           “Seems like you guys have been friends for a long time.” Hoseok pointed out, holding a picture of her and her three best friends standing beside each other in elementary. She took a seat next to Hoseok, taking the framed picture in her hands and smiled at the memory.

           “Yeah. I’ve known them basically my whole life. Taehyung and I were neighbours and spent basically every waking hour with each other. We met Jimin and Jungkook at school, and the four of us clicked immediately.” She explained. “How did you know Tae was in love with me?” She asked, placing the picture on the table, and looking at Hoseok.

           “I could see it in his eyes when I teased you.” She nodded, biting on the inside of her cheeks. She had a hunch that over the years Taehyung developed feelings for her, but she had hoped she was reading too much into things. But he had confessed to her in his car that day. She was about to step out when he spat it out. All she could do was apologize and run up to her apartment. “Sorry if it made things awkward.” She shook her head.

           “Doesn’t matter anyway. The three of them want nothing to do with me.” She confessed. “I lied to them.” She looked down at her hands as she began picking at the skin around her nails. Hoseok noticed and quickly took one of her hands in his, lacing their fingers together.

           “Their loss. You’re pretty great.” He was smiling at her again, while holding her hand. Thoughts of him having feelings for her raced through her mind, driving her insane. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, his heart racing as she smiled at him was new. Never has a simple gesture have him so flustered.

           The following day at school, Hoseok draped his arm across her shoulders as him and his buddies approached her. She looked up at him with wide eyes before looking around at the others, confused as to what was happening. “We’ve decided to be your protection squad.” Hoseok said simply. “Consider yourself lucky.” He added with a whisper. She found herself hiding her face when people looked towards them, and Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on princess, where’s the confidence you had that night?” She rolled her eyes at him once again bringing up the night they shared.

           “Disappeared once the alcohol was out of my system.” She bit back with a scoff. Yoongi let out a chuckle as he shook his head.

           “So you’re dating Jung Hoseok now? Hanging out with his friends?” Jimin asked as he took his regular seat beside her in their shared class. She was surprised he even said anything to her, let alone such a ridiculous question. Jung Hoseok does not do relationships.

           “They’ve become my self-proclaimed protection squad.” She mumbled, going back to catching up on the work she missed the previous day. Jimin couldn’t help but let out a laugh when he realized what she said.

           “Why do you need protecting?” She put her pen down and turned her body to face him.

           “Because I was attacked yesterday, Jimin. My clothes were cut and torn in front of a group of people. And you, Tae and Jungkook have decided I’m the new spawn of Satan. Sue me for make new friends when the people who were supposed to stick by me, left me.” Jimin stared her, words not forming as he tried so hard to say something, anything. “So what I missed one movie night to go out. So what I slept with Hoseok. You guys are acting like I murdered someone.” She closed her textbook and gathered all her books, moving to an empty desk at the back of the room, unable to sit beside Jimin.

           “Miss me, princess?” Hoseok was waiting outside of her class, ready to take her out somewhere fun. He threw his arm around her and she couldn’t help but laugh at how excited he seemed.

           “Believe it or not, I did kind of miss you.” She smiled. He placed his hands over his chest and let out a loud groan as if he was in pain.

           “Just take my heart, princess.” He joked, holding his hands out towards her. She laughed, slapping his hands away and calling him a dork. “You wound me, princess.” He said softly, wrapping his arm around her again as they went to meet up with the others in the parking lot.

           Surprisingly, he took her to the fair that had just arrived in town. As per usual, he had his arm draped across her shoulders as they walked, the others following closely behind, cracking jokes, and telling stories that even made her laugh.

           They spent the afternoon and evening wandering the fair, going on rides, and playing some games. She always had a statistic ready for the probability at winning any of the games they tried. “Have some faith in me, princess.” Hoseok would whine each time, and she couldn’t help but find him absolutely adorable. She watched from the sidelines as him and a couple of his buddies were playing one of the many games. Yoongi threw his arm across her shoulders, taking her by surprise.

           “Be careful with those heart eyes of yours.” He joked, his famous gummy smile on display for her to bask in. “Though, he does seem to have heart eyes for you too.” She rolled her eyes, removing his arm from her shoulders.

           “Don’t be ridiculous Yoongi. Hoseok and I are just friends.” Before he could say anything, Hoseok cheered as the underpaid teenager handed him the giant stuffed bear from behind the counter.

           “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He said quickly, pointing towards a beaming Hoseok who was walking towards them, holding the stuffed bear for her to take.

           “For the princess.” She smiled up at Hoseok, taking the bear in her arms with a small laugh.

           “Is this why you were trying so hard to win the games?” She giggled as the group began walking again.

           “It’s not a full fair experience unless you get a giant prize!” He exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of other fair goers, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Let’s get some cotton candy.” Her eyes lit up at the idea, and the group followed the two of them to one of the many concessions to get cotton candy. He took the bear in his arms again as she excitedly took the cotton candy. And he just had to take a picture. She didn’t even notice as he held up his phone and snapped a bunch of pictures of her happily eating her cotton candy. She was glowing with an angelic smile on her face, and he felt that feeling again. His heart was pounding as he stared at her, lowering his phone so he could take in every part of this moment. He didn’t notice as Yoongi snapped a picture of the two of them, him with a lovesick look on his face as he stared at her. She really was driving him insane.

           “Would you go on the Ferris Wheel with me?” She pouted. The sun set completely, and the lights from all the rides lit up the night. It was tradition for her and her friends to ride the Ferris Wheel at least once during the night when the fair was in town. Hoseok wasn’t one for cliches, but when he looked down at her puppy dog eyes and her bottom lip sticking out in the cutest pout he’d ever seen, he couldn’t say no.

           The others stayed at the bottom, guarding the giant bear Hoseok won for his princess, while the two sat in one of the carriages, waving to their friends. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at his best friend being absolutely whipped for this girl.

           “I love what the fair looks like at night.” She said as they slowly reached the top. “It’s beautiful.” She was looking out, watching as couples held hands and walked around, a few people with giant stuffed bears much like the one Hoseok won her. She was entranced by all the lights and sounds, smiling as they completely reached the top. He didn’t even bother looking around at all the beautiful sights around him, because he knew none of them could top the beautiful sight that is the girl sitting next to him.

           “Breathtaking.” He said in a whisper, looking directly at her. He didn’t even look away when she turned her head a looked at him. And just like every cliché Ferris Wheel scene in every cliché romance movie, he kissed her. He cupped her face and kissed her with a feeling he was unfamiliar with; passion. She was shocked at first, completely taken aback at the sudden contact, but it didn’t take her long to kiss back. They didn’t pull away until the ride was coming to a stop and they could hear their friends cheering. Her eyes immediately drifted to Yoongi, who just smirked at her with a knowing look in his eyes.

           Everyone went their separate ways soon after, Hoseok telling them he was going to take Y/N home. The two decided to walk, knowing the bear wouldn’t fit on his motorcycle. As he had twice already, he shrugged his jacket off and wrapped it around her, leaving one arm across her shoulders and pulling her close. She held the bear in one arm while wrapping the other around his torso, a lovesick smile on her face as they slowly walked towards her apartment. “Thank you.” She whispered.

           “What for?” She looked up at him, her smile widening when she met his eyes.

           “Everything. I had a lot of fun tonight.” She almost forgot that her three best friends hated her. She almost forgot that Hoseok and his friends were fuckboys. She almost forgot she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Hoseok. Almost.

           “Me too.” He whispered back. He almost forgot he was supposed to be a bad boy. He almost forgot they were nothing more than friends. He almost forgot that his other friends were with them the whole night. He almost forgot this wasn’t a date. He almost forgot that he doesn’t do relationships. He almost forgot that he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Y/N. Almost.

           He didn’t walk her upstairs, using the excuse that he had to go get his motorcycle from the fair and wished her a goodnight. It’s like he wasn’t thinking when he leaned in for the second time that night and gave her a kiss goodnight before walking away. He was so out of it, he forgot to take his jacket.

           Once again, Hoseok draped his arm across her shoulders when he saw her the following day at school, his friends following behind him, this time greeting her like they’ve been friends for years. This time, she didn’t hide her face when people started staring. She walked with her head held high as she listened to the others talk, laughing at some of the stories they would tell.

           Everyone started splitting off, either going to class or skipping school altogether. Hoseok walked her all the way to her class. “When does your last class end?” He asked, dropping his arm, and shoving his hands in his pockets.

           “4.” She answered simply. “Why?”

           “Come party with us tonight.” It was Friday. Partying wasn’t her thing. She tried it once, got what she went for, but things were different now. She wasn’t sure she could handle watching Hoseok flirt with other girls, eventually taking one home. And she definitely couldn’t sleep with him if he wanted to take her home, not when she was falling in love with him. Sleeping with him with no feelings involved is one thing. She could walk away unscathed and move on with her life. But now there’s feelings involved, at least on her end, and she knew she would get attached.

           “That was a one-time thing, Hoseok.” She giggled, turning to go to class when he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around to face him again.

           “Please. I really want you there.” He pouted at her much like she did then night before, asking him to ride the Ferris Wheel. Her stomach was doing somersaults at the fact that he wanted her there. He wasn’t asking as a formality because she’s been hanging out with them the last couple days. He wanted her there, and so she found herself agreeing.

           Hoseok picked her up after her last class, driving them back to her apartment so she could change. He chuckled when he saw his jacket hung up with hers at the front door, as if he lived here too. His heart swelled at the idea of coming home to her. So much has changed in such a short amount of time, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. But he was happy, so he wasn’t going to fight it. He wanted to be around her as much as he could, so that’s what he was going to do. He was going to invite her out with him and his friends and show her what it’s like to get her nose out of her books.

           The two of them met the rest of his friends at the same club they met at all those weeks ago. He paid for her drinks and they stayed at the table while the rest of them went off to find a companion for the night. She wanted to say something, to ask him if he was going to stay with her the whole night, or eventually leave to find a girl to take home. He couldn’t even look at another girl when she was sat beside him, sipping her drink with an innocence in her eyes he’s surprised he didn’t see the first time.  

           At some point she left for the bathroom, and Hoseok just sat in the booth, staring in the direction of the bathrooms, waiting for her to come back and keep him company. His face lit up when he saw her emerge, but then it fell when another guy approached her. She smiled up at him, laughing at something he was whispering in her ear. She didn’t seem to be in a rush to return to his side, and that fact made his blood boil and his fists clench. It was then that he knew he didn’t want to just be her friend. Jung Hoseok didn’t do relationships, but Y/N wasn’t like the other girls he’s met.

           He stormed over to her, anger in his eyes, and she smiled at him. Without acknowledging the guy she was talking to; he slid his hand into hers and starting dragging her towards the exit. “We’re leaving.” He grumbled, and she didn’t bother to fight back.

           “I thought you wanted to party?” She asked when they were outside, trying to pull her hand away but he just tightened his grip.

           “I wanted to spend time with you.” He admitted, still not stopping.

           “Can you stop for a minute, please!” She pleaded, finally pulling her hand away from his. He turned to look at her, features softening when he saw the tears in her eyes. “What’s going on, Hoseok?”

           “I don’t know!” He yelled, throwing his hands up in the air before letting them fall to his sides. “All I know is that ever since that first night, you’ve been driving me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you and I want to see you all the time.” She just started to laugh. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Jung Hoseok, school fuckboy and bad boy, had actually fallen for the biggest cliché, the good girl. “Why are you laughing?” She took a step closer to him and placed her hands on his cheeks.

           “Sounds to me like you caught feelings.” She said softly, slowly removing her hands and wrapping her arms around his neck. “And lucky for you, I have too.” He didn’t waste another second and closed the small space between them, kissing her with everything he had.

           “Falling in love doesn’t seem so bad if it’s you.” He whispered before pulling her in for another kiss.

           Jung Hoseok wasn’t one for cliches, but cliches don’t seem so bad when they involve her.

[dekus-afro-pic]

Smile For The Camera

Dabi x Fem!Reader x Hawks

⚠️ warning ⚠️: This fic includes the use of Dabi and Hawks real name which are spoilers to the manga. This fic also includes non-con sex with Endeavor, murder, crying, SWEET SWEET REVENGE, and Villan Hawks

Summary: After months of being held captive by the number one “hero” you finally snap. When you reunite with your childhood friends, whom you thought were dead, your opportunity for revenge is brought to you ona silver plater. Art by @brttpaige

Burns and bruises littered your body and the man on top of you was to blame. You scratch at the hand that was around your throat as you felt yourself losing oxygen. The “hero” slaps your hands away and strikes your face as he continued to thrust into you.

“Just take it,” He grunts above you “Give me what I want”

Tears were no longer streaming down your face but that didn’t stop you from wailing in pain as his hips met yours. You refused to look into his eyes when he hurt you this way. Knowing that if you did, he’d only go harder. You didn’t want this at all. How could he not see that? You didn’t expect your close friend’s father to be such a…monster.

How could you not know y/n? He killed his own son for Christ's sake. And soon, he’d kill you too.

After Endeavor finishes his load inside of your womb, he zips up his pants and leaves. You laid there, in the bed of an apartment that he kept you captive in, and shuddered. You knew two things for certain.

You are not going to bear his child and you were going to kill Enji Todoroki.

You crawl towards the nightstand and pull out a plan-b from beneath it. After swallowing the pill dry, you make your way to the bathroom to tend to your injuries and cleanse yourself of that monster.

Unbeknownst to you, someone watched the whole ordeal take place. Dabi’s blood was boiling. How the fuck could the number one “hero” be capable of such actions. But then again, heroes weren’t all that they seemed. His chest tightened as he watched you use your water quirk to heal your bruises. You shouldn’t be going through this. You should be out there getting rid of villains like his “father”. He knew he had to get you out of there. He pulls out his phone to inform the others of his plan. But for it to succeed, you were going to have to make the first move.

And that you did. Once your body was back to an ok state, you start packing everything you could. Your toothbrush, clean clothes, the little food you had in the beat down apartment, 2000¥ ($20 USD) you stole from your abuser, and your only second pair of shoes. You were on a mission to get out of there as fast as you could.

It was a Friday night, meaning that Endeavor was out playing pretend with his family. The looks on their faces once you reveal his secrets were ones that you want to cherish forever. You couldn’t wait until the world finally knew who it was idolizing.

You wasted no time opening the bedroom window and sprinting down the fire escape stairs. You held the duffel bag close to your body as you ran down the dark alleyway. You were free. You were finally free.

After running for what felt like 20 minutes you finally stop to give your aching lungs and legs a break. You didn’t know where your legs had taken you but from the looks of it, you were farther away from the apartment than you had imagined. You weren’t complaining though. The farther away you were from that wretched man the better.

You sat in a quiet alleyway for some time. You reach into your bag for a water bottle as you pressed your back against the brick wall. When you looked back up from your bag three men were standing on the opposite side of the alleyway. As the men inch closer to you, you realize that there weren’t three men. It was one man with gigantic wings.

“Hey kid. I know this might sound crazy but” He said grabbing you and your bag with both his hands “You’re a package I need to deliver.”

“What the fuck let me go” you struggle against the stranger's hold. Your actions are stopped as he rose in the air. You cling to his chest for dear life hoping he wouldn’t drop you.

“Where the fuck are you taking me bird brain?” You yell against the roaring winds. He didn’t answer you, he only smiled as you continue to spew curses at him. “I swear when you land I’m going to DROWN you”

Finally, he lands in front of a relatively big house in the woods. Once his feet touch the ground you use the water in his body to make him punch himself. Before you could swing at him with your fist, his feathers lifted you off the ground and carried you into the house.

“Hawks is back” you heard a girl squeal “And he brought her too.”

Hawks’ feather dropped you on your bum as the man walks off. The girl from before comes into your line of eyesight and smiles. She had blonde hair which was tied into pigtails and her canines were long.

“Hi I’m Toga” She introduced, holding out her hand to help you up. “The birdie who flew you in is Hawks, he’s Dabi’s boyfriend. Welcome to the new and improved League of Villains super-secret hideout. Don’t tell anyone though. Or I’ll have to kill you”

“Y/n” you reply as you take her hand. “Why am I here? I’m no villain.” At least not yet you weren’t.

“Dabi has told us all about you. Which is why you’re here. He should be around here somewhere” She wonders off. You hear her yell “DABI” Before she returns with Hawks and another man, who you assumed was Dabi. You flick your middle finger at the birdman as he walked closer to you.

“Aww don’t be like that kid. I was only trying to help” He said with a smile. With the proper lighting in the house, you got a proper look at the man. His wings were a bright crimson color and his blonde hair was done messily. He had a long scratch from above his right eyebrow down to the middle of his cheek. Overall the man looked familiar.

Damn this man is gorgeous. If he didn’t have a boyfriend I’d want a piece of that.

You flinched when you feel his hand touch your shoulder. On the defense, you twist his arm behind his back and push him away from you. When you realize what you’ve done you quickly apologize “Oh shit. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”

“No it’s fine” He reassured with a smile “it’s obvious that you're on edge. I shouldn’t have done that”

“Yea...on edge” you turn to the other man. His eyes were bright blue and the majority of his skin was covered in burn scars. Staples pierced his skin in various places. “You must be Dabi”

“Correct. But you can call me Touya”

“Tou-?”

“Follow me” He interrupts. You follow the couple down the hallway. You passed multiple rooms. In one room, a man with visible dry skin sat in front of a medium-sized tv with a game controller in hand. Maybe he’d let you relieve him one day.

“I’ve been watching you Y/n” Touya begins “I’ve seen the things that man has done to you”

You stopped in front of a brown door. Hawks stepped in front of you with a softer look.

“You’re going to get your revenge little birdie. But for now,” Hawks opened the door to the room. It was gorgeous, to say the least. A queen-sized bed was centered in the room with the smell of vanilla faint in the air. “You’re going to relax”

You dropped your duffel bag as you slowly walked through the threshold. You make your way to the bed with tears blurring your vision. Hawks place your bag on a vacant chair while Touya makes his way towards you.

“So you’ve been in hiding this whole time?” You question the man standing in front of you.

“Yeah pretty much” he nods, rubbing the back of his neck “I was supposed to come back for you but you went off the grid. Now I know why”

“Where’s Keigo?” You ask.

“What did that monster do to you?” The blonde reaches out to caress your face but you flinch away. “I’m Keigo, Y/n”

“Some friend reunion we have here” You joke.

When you realize that you were indeed not captivated in some beat down apartment panic sunk in. What if he finds you? What if he’s already sent out people to look for you? What if these were the people he sent out?

“Hey” A single feather lifts your head to look at both of them “Don’t worry your pretty little head. He won’t find you here. And if somehow he does...we’ll just kill him”

Dabi nods his head in agreement. You wrap your arms around both of their bodies with tears running down your face. Keigo leaned into your touch while Dabi just pats your head stiffly.

They tell you to adjust to your new room and get cleaned up as they leave your room. Once Keigo closes your door, he buries his face into his hands.

“Did you see her arms and legs Touya?” He sobs, “She looks like she hasn’t eaten in days”

Dabi places his hand on his lover’s back, guiding him to their shared room. “Don’t cry Keigo. We’ve successfully finished phase one of the plan. We need to get ready for phase two”

———————————

“Ok you two. What’s going on?” You ask your two best friends.

“It’s a surprise y/n, we can’t tell you” The blonde laughs as Touya guided you through the wooded area. The white blindfold did its job at hiding the world from your view. You felt the boy to your right stop walking as the other untied the white cloth.

The view before you was breathtaking. “Happy Birthday Y/N” frosted onto a small cake with balloons tied to tree branches.

“Guys you shouldn’t have” You giggle.

“You’re our best friend Y/N. You’re going to have to get used to celebrating your birthday” Touya scolded.

Little did the three of you know, that was going to be the last time you would be together.

The scene started to change. The woods were engulfed in bright flames, screams were heard in the distance.

“KEIGO!” you scream. “TOUYA!WHERE ARE YOU?”

The smoke covered everything around you. You choked on the thick smoke as you tried to avoid the flames. You scream louder for your friends. But you never found them. You trip and fall over a fallen tree branch. You look up and see your abuser standing over you.

You try to crawl away from him but he catches you by your hair.

“No. Please” you cry. “TOUYA! KEIGO PLEASE HELP”

“Y/n. You can’t escape me” He growls in your ear.

Just seconds before he could throw you against the burning tree, your eyes shoot open as you send icicles flying everywhere. You scream as you feel hands grabbing your own. Your eyesight still blurry from waking up, you swing at the person in front of you. “LET GO. LET GO! GET OFF ME. KEIGO, TOUYA HELP ME”

“Y/n calm down it’s me. It’s Keigo” The blonde whispers. Your eyes frantically search for his. Your body shakes while you sob as you held Keigo’s face in your hands.

“Keigo, where were you? Keigo don’t let him get me please don’t let him get me” You choke out, “I don’t want to go back please don’t send me back. Don’t leave me again, please.”

“He won’t find you baby bird” He cooed. He places your head on his chest as he rubs your hair soothingly. “I’m here now. I’m not leaving again” He stays true to his word and drifts back to sleep with you in his arms.

Touya woke up to an empty bed. Confused, he brushed his teeth and went to check up on you. When he opens your room door he finds you asleep on top of his boyfriend’s chest. His boyfriend, on the other hand, was wide awake. He looks over at the door when he heard the floorboards creak.

“Shh. She had a rough night” He whispers.

“What happened?”

“Night Terror about him. She was screaming our names so I came in to check on her. She almost cut me with an icicle.” Keigo explains.

Touya slides underneath your cover on the other side of you. You stir at the sudden movement which causes Keigo to stop breathing.

“Goodmorning Keigo” you groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes “and Touya”

“Goodmorning little one” the latter replied, “how are you feeling?”

“Tense” You yawn. You wiggle out of Keigo’s hold and walk towards your duffel bag. “Where’s the bathroom? I’m going to uh..take a shower”

“Across the hall”

You say a quiet thank you and exit your room. The couple let out breaths that they didn’t know they were holding when they hear the shower starts.

“We have to do something. And quick” Keigo whispers “Did Toga and Shigaraki already leave?”

“Yea. They should be back later tonight with our special guest. But for now, we need to calm down y/n”

The water dripped off of your skin as you stepped out of the steamy shower. After drying off, putting on clean clothes, and brushing your teeth, you walk back across the hall to your bedroom. Before you could sit back down on your bed, Keigo’s there with his hand stretched out for you to take.

“Hey, there birdie. Come with me” he says.

You take his hand and followed behind the blonde. He brings you to the kitchen, where a tall shadow man was making lunch.

“Hello young y/n” He spoke “I’m Kurogiri”

“Nice to meet you” You smile faintly. “Keigo I’m not hu-“

“Yes you are y/n” Touya scolds from behind you. “You haven’t eaten since I don’t know when. At least eat the seaweed out of it”

He pulls the chair out for you to sit and sits directly across from you. Keigo takes the seat on side of you as Kurogiri places your bowls in front of you.

“Shoyu Ramen?” You inhale the steam coming from the bowl. It smelled delicious. How long has it been since you had this?

“You always ate this after training and I suspect that you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in-“ Touya was cut off by your loud slurping “years”

“Stalker” You laugh before stuffing your face with more ramen. “So how long have you been watching me?”

“Well, we’ve been looking for you since we turned 20” Keigo answers. “Touya here found you just last week”

Your response was a loud hum as you drank the broth of your meal. You couldn’t help the satisfied sigh that escaped through your lips. The food was just that good.

“I’m kind of grateful that you abducted me when you did. I’d probably still be sitting in that alleyway.”

“Y/n if you don’t mind me asking” Touya begins “How long has he been..”

“6 months” You sigh, “I was dropping Shoto off at home one night and that’s when he took me to the apartment. I had no contact with the outside world. No tv, no phone, not even a god damn newspaper” You felt your quirk activate, causing the water in the glasses before you to boil. “I swear, the next time I see him I’m going to boil the skin off of him”

“Whoa there princess” Keigo uses one of his feathers to rub at your thigh to calm you down. You relax at his touch and bring the raging water to a stop. You grab Keigo’s hand in an attempt to regulate your breathing.

“So what’s the plan?” You ask, “I know you two are up to something”

“It’s a surprise” Touya smirks “you’ll find out after dinner.”

You spent your day sandwiched between the two men in your new bed watching movies, catching up, and enjoying each other’s company. It was strange how you didn’t feel like a complete third wheel. Instead, you felt like you were apart of the relationship and you were happy. You can’t even remember the last time you had a good time like this.

At last, it was dinner time. The two left your room minutes prior to “prepare your surprise” in Keigo’s words. You decided to change your clothes while you waited for the ok to come down. Just as you finished up, one of Keigo’s feathers tapped your shoulder.

You were greeted with blue and yellow eyes when you entered the dining room. Feathers pulled out your chair while the others sat down in their seats.

Fish, rice bowls, and other foods were placed on the table. You ate in silence, mainly because you didn’t want to choke, while the others talked amongst themselves.

“Y/n-Chan” Toga whined “Why are you so quiet over there?”

“The food is so good,” you say after swallowing a mouth full of rice, “I want to eat as much as possible”

Kurogiri nods in your direction at the compliment. Dinner goes on with Dabi and Shigaraki arguing over who’s the strongest and You and Keigo exchanging flirty glances and middle fingers.

“Hey Y/n, Trynna steal my boyfriend?” Touya teases.

“You’re going to have to share Mr. Blueflame” you tease back. Everybody laughs as you two keep going back and forth.

“Alright Alright. Dinners over. Time for your surprise Y/n” Touya announced.

Everybody looked at you with sinister smirks as Keigo helped you out of your seat. You were led to the basement where two seats were on opposite sides of the room with a camera in the middle.

You sat in the chair closest to the door and watched Touya and Shigi bring in someone in handcuffs with a trash bag over their head.

“Guys what’s going…” you stopped talking when Shigaraki dusts the bag off the person’s head. But it wasn’t a person, no.

It was him. The monster that kept you captive for months. The monster that stripped you of your innocence and ruined your life plans. You felt your blood begin to boil as you stood out of your chair.

“Y/n?” The older man groaned. Touya punched him in his jaw before he could speak again.

“Don’t you dare say her fucking name” He spat. He then turned to you with soft(ish) eyes. “Don’t worry. The cuffs are quirk canceling”

“Do your worst baby bird” Keigo whispered into your ear.

You motioned for everyone to move out of the way as you walked towards your new captive. “Remember this face in your next life” You whisper.

You boiled the water in his body and smiled at the bubbles visibly forming on the surface of his skin. As the man before you screams in pain, you walk towards the camera that was recording the whole thing.

“Smile for the camera Enji. Why don’t you tell little Shoto where’d you take me all those months ago. Why I could no longer pick him up from school on Fridays” You toy with the corpse. You watched as blood began to seep through his skin “You’ve always told me to give you what you want. This time it is you who will give me what I want”

“Hey Dabi” Keigo whispered “Is it just me or is Y/N kinda hot when she’s committing murder”

The ravenette nodded at his boyfriend’s statement. You were indeed hot as hell murdering his father. Your abuser. He froze, just as he was about to add a comment, when you spun the camera around to face him and Keigo.

“Say hi Dabi” You smile at the two. “Hi Hawks”

“You’ve officially lost it baby bird”

“I agree. Crazy looks good on you” Touya adds.

You turn the camera off and hand it to Kurogiri. You walk over to the couple with a pout on your face “He’s dead now. My fun’s over”

“Oh no no no” Touya teasingly pulled you into his chest by your waist “The fun is just beginning. Right, Keigo?”

Keigo pushes his groin against your ass and nibbles on your earlobe.“That’s right babe” he whispered “We’re going to help you reclaim what’s yours”

——————-——————

A/n: So there’s smut to this fic😭 but I won’t post it unless this does good. Anyways, HAPPY NEW YEAR.

[washymylifeaway]

SakuAtsu Fanfic recs pt2 leggo

I promised a pt 2 and here it is! Link to pt 1 here :) I was lazy so given summaries (I cped this time, but in the future I might paraphrase), and ofc these aren’t all of the ones I loved, just some :D So in no particular order, have some SakuAtsu <3

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading (esp cause I didn’t put individual warnings PLEASE make sure you’re okay with the content!!!!!!) and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

Teach Me, Tune Me, Tempt Me by Anonymous (E) 38.8k // Sakusa Kiyoomi needs to conquer many lifelong fears in order to enter his first romantic relationship. Miya Atsumu is there to guide him every step of the way, even if the one Sakusa desires is someone else.

Flowers Bloom In Our Masks by UnicornFlowers (G) 24.5k // "Mysophobia, also known as verminophobia, germophobia, germaphobia, bacillophobia and bacteriophobia, is a pathological fear of contamination and germs." "You read that off of Wikipedia." "That's the point, Omi-kun. I read up on it fer you."

the art of folding a handkerchief by Emlee_J (T) 5.6k // “Atsumu-san’s just realised he likes Sakusa-san,” Shouyou says simply, as though announcing the weather. “Ahh,” Bokuto nods sagely, standing up straight and nodding his head, as though this was a perfectly normal thing to hear and not monumental in any way. “'Ahh?'” Atsumu protests, indignantly, “what do ya mean ‘ahh?’” “We were wondering when you were going to notice,” Bokuto shrugs, and Atsumu gawps at him. “'Scuse me?” He splutters, and whips his gaze around to Shouyou, who bobs his head at him in confirmation. “How did you two notice before I did?” Atsumu blurts out. "Most people do," Shouyou says softly. -In which Atsumu develops something annoying, like feelings for a teammate, but at least he has a couple of wingmen and Tobio's seemingly infinite resources to help him out.

for whom the heart beats by cielelyse (T) 1.6k // Atsumu's heart keeps skipping a beat whenever Sakusa's around - so often that it's baffling and honestly downright concerning. "I think I might have a medical condition," he says into the phone. "Good," says Osamu, and hangs up.

as you are by papertulips (G) 5.8k // Kiyoomi learns that falling for Atsumu is the easiest thing in the world.

Hide and seek by badreputation (E) 10.5k // It’s just a fleeting infatuation. As long as he pushes through it he’ll manage. So what if nowadays there isn’t a night where he doesn’t dream of Sakusa pinning him down on his own bed, in the shower or make Atsumu go down on his knees in the hallway? Those are just pesky details.

People Will Say We're in Love by tirralirra (T) 9.5k // “Saku...Atsu? What does that even mean?” Atsumu says, squinting at the device. People seem to think that Sakusa and Atsumu are in love, so they come up with a list of things to do to deter that. Maybe it would work...if they weren’t in love.

do not separate! by aalphard (T) 5k // He knows he likes peanut butter and the tuna onigiri Uncle Shamu makes for him. He knows he likes volleyball and the way his daddy looks so, so cool when he’s on court. He knows he likes drawing and playing with toy swords. He knows he likes reading and it’s even better when Atsumu is the one reading for him. He knows he likes to have pancakes in the morning but he also really, really likes tamagoyaki and he knows his daddy can’t make those at all. He tries, but fails every single time. He knows his daddy’s teammates like him and he knows they’ll help him if he wants to play with them one day. But the thing is he likes Uncle Omi-kun more than he likes the rest of them and that is a secret he won’t tell anyone that’s not his daddy. He doesn’t like to make people sad.“Omi?” “Yeah?” “Nao said he likes you more than he likes the rest of the team. Don’t tell’em.” or atsumu is a single dad and kiyoomi can't help but fall for him.

you make my heart burn by myhopeisjhope (G) 9.2k // “What’s up with that awful expression?” Atsumu asked. He leaned against the counter with his hip, looking directly at Kiyoomi, his regular fox-line grin plastered on his face. Kiyoomi made eye-contact with him then, his eyebrows knotting in annoyance, but Atsumu was too interested in the cute pair of beauty marks above Kiyoomi’s eye to care about the glare that was sent his way. “What’s up with that awful hair?” Kiyoomi shot back. And that was exactly when Atsumu decided he liked the guy. 

somewhere in the middle (i think we lied a little) by akanemnida (E) 4.3k // “Body worship,” Miya said instantly, after Kiyoomi asked him what he wanted as reward as the winner of their service ace competition. “I can do that,” Kiyoomi said with a frown. “God, you really are the vainest person on this planet—”Miya shook his head, smirking. “Nuh-uh, Omi-kun. I meant I wanted ‘ta worship ‘ya.”(Or: Sakusa and Atsumu and all the blurred lines in between.)

san'yō expressway, 6:17 pm by yamabato (T) 8.1k // Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe. Kiss him again, maybe. They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out.

affection by papertulips (G) 2.1k // "I gave you the key to my house for emergencies only." “This is an emergency.” “What?” Atsumu pouts, looking up at him with wide eyes that definitely work on Kiyoomi but he will never admit it. “I missed you.”

love could be labeled poison and we'd drink it anyways by myhopeisjhope (NR) 21.3k // "Huh?" is Atsumu's response, and it's seemingly the only thing the man could think of after the minute-long silence that stretched between them. "We should break up," Kiyoomi repeats, more clearly now. He doesn't let any emotion seep into his voice, keeping it neutral and detached, as if breaking up with Atsumu was the easiest thing ever, while in fact it's the complete opposite.

And I'll Ask for the Sea by meeks00 (T) 6.9k // When a couple of his teammates reveal that Atsumu has feelings for him, Sakusa doesn’t react well. It doesn’t help that Atsumu is his typical petty and salty self. --“Come on,” Atsumu is saying in a wheedling tone behind a bright grin. “Just stop,” Sakusa snaps suddenly. “Will you just leave me alone for once? I don’t even like you!”Normally, Sakusa’s words don’t phase Atsumu at all. He’ll talk over Sakusa or brush off any harsh words easily enough and might turn to someone else for the attention he apparently craves. But this time, Sakusa’s words seem to stop him cold, the smile freezing for just a moment on his face.

the Definition of Miya Atsumu, by Sakusa Kiyoomi by orphan_account (G) 4k // Miya Atsumu is a self-centred prick who thinks he's top shit. Underneath the word 'asshole' in the dictionary is a picture of his stupidly pretty face. Sakusa Kiyoomi's definition is, according to him, 100% correct, until he takes a closer look.

i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by liliapocalypse (T) 7.6k // Seeing Sakusa stressed out, Atsumu writes random letters on Sakusa’s skin to soothe him during the team’s assisted stretches. Somewhere along the way, the touches shift from barely tolerable to something Sakusa actively craved for. One day, though, Atsumu accidentally writes a confession instead.

it ain't no matter of 'if' honey, it's just a matter of 'when' by irleggsy (M) 2.1k // With a beer in one hand and an accusatory pointer finger on the other, Sakusa slurred, shouted even, “Atsumu. If you wear those godforsaken cutoff camo jorts one more fucking time I’m breaking up with you.”Atsumu made a noise in his throat caught somewhere between a wheeze and a squawk that came out more of an avant-garde honk noise than anything else. He stared up at Sakusa with wide eyes, a bewildered smile just barely glued onto his face. Or: The MSBY Black Jackals go to a bar. Sakusa likes to run his mouth when he's drunk.

dog eat dog eat dog world by perennials (T) 8.4k // You are your first and only line of defense against the universe.

Who Could Have Seen This Coming? by crone_zone (M) 16.7k // Peering out the side of his eyes at the man walking beside him, Sakusa wondered why he’d impulsively changed his mind about his plans this evening when he’d noticed Miya’s reluctance. Surely he wasn’t worried about this asshole, was he?--In which Sakusa impulsively invites Atsumu over to his apartment when he sees he's upset and something entirely unexpected happens: he realizes he likes this asshole. Cue [off-camera]sex, mutual confessions, insecurity, and adorable losers who are opposite in all the right ways.

Miya Atsumu's unwavering love for Sakusa Kiyoomi and an unholy amount of terrible food analogies that should not have the right to Exist by aiviloti (G) 5.6k // Five times Miya Atsumu talks to (harasses) his friends and sibling because he has feelings for Sakusa and doesn't know what to do or how to deal with them and the one time he talks to Sakusa about it. “How do you make friends apart from showering them in praise?” Atsumu wails one night, and Osamu thinks, oh god, here we go again.

Sakusa's Secret Admirer by TwilaFrost (T) 20.2k // Every day after practice, Kiyoomi finds another letter inside his shoe locker. It's only every signed: -❤ He's determined to find this person. Is it crazy to fall in love with someone you've never met?

take what's yours and make it mine by claudusdiei (T) 5.9k // (this has a second fic hehe) atsumu falls in love four times in his life (or: in which atsumu gets his heart broken twice, has the self-awareness of a sober mule and really likes yellow tulips)

School Bus Yellow by yuuki (G) 4.9k // Atsumu has a crush on Sakusa, and it’s kind of ridiculous how much he likes a guy who wears ugly colored jackets and is afraid of germs.Though, Atsumu’s probably not all that great himself. He’s still figuring that part out.

show me how by emeraldpalace (G) 2.9k // Sakusa isn’t sure when or how it happened, but the fact remains: Miya Atsumu has become a comfortable constant in his life.

touch me (i want you to) by melstar (G) 3.9k // He should have seen it coming, really. Spend six months tip-toeing around the line of domesticity with the team’s resident germaphobe, and there was no way he’d be able to think of the guy the same way anymore. Or, Atsumu touches Sakusa's arm once and thus begins a downward spiral into the inescapable jaws of attraction.

Dreaming of You, Talking About You by kitkatwrites (T) 1.1k // Osamu learns that Atsumu talks in his sleep, especially about a certain wing spiker from Tokyo.

If your world falls apart, I'd start a riot by Serendipity (jenjaemrens) (NR) 3.1k // "It was Atsumu who was the older brother, but it was Osamu who was more protective of him. He would always protect Atsumu from things around them that could hurt him. "Or, the story of Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu through the eyes of Miya Osamu.

but soft what light by min_mintobe (T) 2.1k // "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, Bokkun—" Atsumu drawls, "—hot. "In which Miya Atsumu woos Sakusa Kiyoomi by (gratuitously, seductively) quoting Shakespeare. One-shot.

sakusa kiyoomi's fixation on (miya atsumu's) lips by catsoncocaine (E) 3.7k // Everything about Atsumu is fucking beautiful, but there is one specific part of his that is like kryptonite for Kiyoomi. It is both his curse and his remedy, rendering him useless and yet egging him on to move at the same time. Kiyoomi hates it as much as he loves it.

The Jacket In Your Closet by dai_naning (T) 8.6k // According to the gossiping players around him, Miya Atsumu is an asshole. He's an incredible player in court and an obnoxious person off the court. He taunts people, points out their weakness, and doesn't give a shit if he's disliked or not. Some even say his teammates ostracize him. Sakusa looks at Miya Atsumu and can only see a player who keeps his eyes firmly forward, demanding the same to the players who want to stay on the court. Sakusa can't fault him for that. (That doesn't erase the fact that he's an asshole though. And that he's still the one who gave a jacket to a stranger.)

sakusa kiyoomi is....an uncle? by miyaudrey (T) 5.9k // “Oh, by the way, my nieces and nephews are going to be there.” “Your what now?” Or, Atsumu finds out three hours prior to a Sakusa family gathering that Kiyoomi is an uncle.

Confessions of a V-League Setter by Anubis_2701 (T) 3.3k // "Never?" Sakusa's lips thinned. "No, never. Now stop talking to me." Or, Atsumu discovers that Sakusa Kiyoomi, germaphobe and reluctant heartthrob of the Black Jackals, has never been confessed to before. He decides to change that.

Touch Me by cajynn (E) 3k // Sakusa actually likes being touched but he's very picky when it comes to who and how. When the who turns out to be Miya Atsumu he has a crisis.

Please Stop Crying by dauwtrappen (G) 2.9k // Friday starts off well until it doesn’t and Kiyoomi can hear something crash, feel something snap inside him when Miya, about to set him up for a quick attack, suddenly starts crying in the middle of their three-on-three. Kiyoomi doesn’t even react when the ball bounces off his head, doesn’t cringe when his face is smushed against the net briefly because he forgets to land in front of the it. He’s too shocked, too appalled with the tears pouring out from Miya’s eyes to care.

I can't take much more of your hesitating by playexodus (T) 2.7k // The curved sides of Atsumu’s pecs peek through that absurd tank top at just the right angle. Sakusa swallows. “Your entire chest is hanging out of that shirt. We’re in public. You could at least pretend to be a decent, morally upright person. Not to mention that this Los Angeles beach boy aesthetic is terrible on you.”Glancing back down at Atsumu’s chest to glare at his sharp, glistening collarbones is a bad idea. Sakusa wills his eyes to stay fixated on Atsumu’s face. As it turns out, this too, is a bad idea. “Oh?” Atsumu turns his half-lidded gaze onto Sakusa, the corners of his mouth curling. “Just to be clear: you’re definitely not enjoying the view then, Omi-Omi?”

curse breaking by allicanseeispink (T) 9.2k // Nearing the fourth hour of the silent treatment, Kiyoomi’s already frayed nerves began to whittle down to their last fibers. Today, it was raining. A proper Tokyo monsoon tantrum just shy of a full-blown typhoon that left puddles on sidewalks and fell from an angle so wicked it eluded umbrellas. It was raining and they haven’t spoken in almost four hours. (In which Sakusa wanders into the minefield that is Atsumu's feelings and tries not to blow things up.)

Summer Special: Omigiri by mika60 (T) 6.9k // Miya Osamu always comes up with the perfect marketing plan for his shop, even if it involves the two biggest idiots he knows.

a list of things sakusa kiyoomi hates by BrenH (T) 7.3k // “Just fuckin’ write shit down so ya remember it then. ”It was probably supposed to be a joke, just Osamu being as annoying and unhelpful as always, just reminding him that he shouldn’t have bothered trying to count on his brother for help. He’s forgotten about the whole thing until a few days later when he’s shopping and comes across a small, black notebook shaped like a cat, and his brother’s stupid suggestion flashes through his mind. Before he knows it, the cute little notebook is dropped in his basket, purchased, and in his possession. Or, the one where Osamu suggests Atsumu keep a notebook to track all the things Sakusa hates that he does, and he takes it further than he means to.

A Challenge, A Cat, and A Confession by Kitaa (G) 6.2k // Atsumu enjoys bothering Sakusa. One day he bothers him enough to be invited over to his apartment, only to discover that Sakusa has a plant, a cat, and a cute laugh.

Multiples Of Two by yuuki (G) 3.3k // He does everything in multiples of two. The day Sakusa Kiyoomi died, Atsumu checked his pulse twenty-eight times. Okay, so Sakusa Kiyoomi has never died. And Atsumu has never been close enough to Sakusa to be able to check his pulse. So what if Atsumu is just being dramatic again? He’s allowed to be dramatic when he’s in love with a man who has less emotion than a rock.

gold rush by sketchedsmiles (T) 18k // When the MSBY Black Jackals sign their newest team member, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Atsumu makes it his personal responsibility to befriend the indifferent player.

got sand in my eyes (and my shorts too, damn you miya) by luxnoctre (T) 4.7k // On one of their rare rest days, Hinata takes the part of the MSBY team to the beach. Chaos ensures. (or alternatively, do not piss off Sakusa when he is in the middle of relaxing)

mortality is found in the flesh of your sins by citronnes (M) 10.6k // dickhead one, sakusa kiyoomi. dickhead two, miya atsumu. neither understand how to communicate. Pray tell, why are you drawn to him?Are you drawn to him in the way he looks beautiful even when crying? When his eyes are red, shiny tears streaking down, lips quivering, is he beautiful?

This was v long ahahaha.... Anyway, is this finished? No LOL, but I’ll just make small additions via reblogs (?) over time. Maybe :) Sorry if you wanted me to ramble on about SakuAtsu,,,, slide into my messages/asks for that LOL. Maybe over time I’ll add the commentary from other posts I make in the future :’)

[kylo-hen]

Super Bloom Part 3

A/N: Sorry for the wait on this one, but she’s up! I’m slowly realizing my star wars encyclopedic phase was a long time ago and knowledge is beginning to seep out of my brain lmao. Hope you enjoy the extreme self indulgence in this because I have no self control

Kylo Ren X Soulmate!Reader (intergalactic soulmate AU)

Summary: Kylo takes you aboard his ship in attempts to acclimate you but how can he show you his life without revealing his demons?

Warnings: Fluff, lots and lots of fluff. Maybe 2 sentences worth of angst if you read into it.

    The dinner was in a word, luxurious, a multitude of different foods some native to this planet others from far off planets in galaxies I had never heard of. There was casual conversation flowing between the elders and Kylo about trade agreements and protection orders. Kylo and I sat side by side at the table and I tried to listen and absorb as much information I could from the discussions.

    Kylo sat confidently, comfortably, next to me his gaze intimidating and relaxed as the men and women around us worked to appease our every need. Kylo’s lifestyle had no room for wanting, if the thought passes his mind it appeared before he even needs to voice it, I wondered how far the luxury extended from his power to mine.

    As the night waned until the moon was high in the atmosphere it’s light breaking through the branches of the grove behind the dining hall, the goblets we drank had run dry, stomachs full from the variety of courses served, and all conversation lulled into peace; Kylo stood. His new position called for the rest of the room to follow in his footsteps, and soon the whole room of dignitaries stood except for me. Kylo extended his hand out to mine, similar to the stance he had in the beginning of the evening. He pulled me gently to my feet, keeping me close to his side as he announced his departure for the night, reaching for his helmet and returning to the state I met him in. The elders surrounding the table bowed their heads in respect for the man at my side and the guards surrounding the room, the ones who had flanked the man the whole day, readied themselves for their new task.

    Kylo ushered me along, keeping a close eye on me even as we walked out of the temple in their secure formation then. The streets after dark housed new beauties for the festival. Large gatherings of people performing with sparks of fire, more loud boisterous music, and lanterns strung over the main stretch of road. Many people laughing, dancing, drunk and in love made whoops and hollers when they saw us passing through. No one dared get in the way of the important men and women the temple was honoring, but their intoxicated minds must celebrate us.

    Kylo seemed particularly tense on the way back, every interaction with the crowd left his senses tense and overloaded, his instincts not ready for the bold people lining the pavement. The shadow of darkness did not allow him any relief, the nature of the city allowing for many vulnerable places for people to strike.

    His tension only melted as we approached the edge of the city, where a large ship laid waiting for its leaders’ occupation. There were men in white armor and blasters stationed outside of the ship, as a walkway descended to the ground, creating an isle up to his world. More guards in white armor descended in two lines and I wondered where they were all coming from, or if they had been waiting all day for this.

   As Kylo led me aboard his ship I felt like I was transported into a different dimension altogether. I had never been anywhere but my small planet, I had barely left the city in all my life. The sleek and simple black and white design of this looked state of the art, unlike anything I have ever seen. There are a couple more people to greet us, him, when we boarded.

     “Supreme Leader!” one of the men addressed Kylo enthusiastically, “Your earlier message made it seem like you would not be returning tonight,” his tone laced with acidic uncertainty, “We weren’t expecting you so soon.”

    Kylo’s gaze hardened in an instant, “My movements do not concern you.” He spoke to the small man who fell back into his rank surrounded by the guards behind him. “Leave us, we’ll have no petty interruptions tonight officer.” With that Kylo made a dramatic turn away from the hoard welcoming us abord, and towards the hallway adjacent to us.

     I followed him quickly, not wanting to invade his space if he was upset but also not wanting to fall behind and be lost on his ship. After travelling down a corridor for some time he came to a stop at a barren doorway that opened without hesitation.

     His room was barren to say the least, it was gracious in dimension but lackluster in any personality. The sterile minimalism extended to all parts of his ship, I wondered if this ship was his home, somewhere he spent frequently and if it was there had been so sign of him before.

    Kylo removed his helmet as soon as the door was secured behind us both, his demeanor shifting to the relaxation under the sun this afternoon. He regarded me with a smile so soft and quick I almost missed it.  I had stepped into the threshold of the room but no further, not knowing how to fit into this part of his life yet. All of my comfort that I retained from this evening had slowly melted away, and it left behind the ebb and flow of the anxiety in my stomach. I stood as still as possible, only a dew steps into his room watching as he moved with definitive purpose, exactly the opposite of my floundering worry.

    He didn’t address me until he began to remove the intricate bindings of his outfit, starting with the secures on his wrist. He looked up and saw my tense fearful body awaiting his instruction with my eyes darting all places in his room before landing on him. He stopped his pursuit of comfort, changing direction to aide my own. The cogs turned in his head for a moment, true vulnerable uneasiness passed over his features as he tried to acclimate me to his world.

   “I had one of my knights bring your things, they should be in the closet,” He started with a practical steady tone, “You are welcome to explore.” He tried with less certainty, his façade falling further with every tactic.

    “Can you show me?” I asked, not recognizing my own voice as it came out of my mouth a foreign cadence that lilted like the music in the market after dark. That lilt must have washed over him like a warm breeze because the trepidation before melted away, a smile graced his features as he moved to show me the amenities aboard his quarters.  

   He spoke softly about the room, which switches controlled which light, stopping at a bare display of buttons that he explained called droids for various services at any time. He showed me the fresher, the small space itself completely foreign to anything I had ever seen. Kylo must have found delight in my ignorance because he refused to tell me how to work the dammed contraption, opting to let me figure it out myself. When I looked up at him in protest his eyes were shining down on mine, full of a joy and passion. There was a third emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on, it was dark, misty, but not intimidating.

    He paused before moving on to show me the rest of the amenities, his hands coming to wrap around me, the first physical contact we’ve had since stepping on the ship. They snaked their way around settling on my back once I was pressed to his front. He tilted his head down, wordlessly asking for a kiss. I obliged tenfold, pushing up to meet his lips with desperation. My hands finding purchase on his cheeks.

    This man lit a fire in my bones, not being able to touch him, to hold him in my arms for as long as I had felt like walking in the desert without water. Now, with his lips pressed against mine, his large sturdy hands keeping me secure, his breathe breathing me new life, his soul intertwined with my own, I was drowning. No, I was basking in his passion for me, his need. His touch, even juvenile, had me floating far from the rest of the world.

     When Kylo pulls back I feel the lack of his heat immediately. The unpleasant contrast from the pure joy before forced a whine from my mouth before I could stop it. My hands dropping to his chest as he moves away from our tight embrace. He didn’t try to hide his amusement with a deep reverberating chuckle sliding out his lips which curled up into a light hearted smirk. His hands moving from my back to my neck, tilting my head up to meet his intense gaze.

     “Don’t get greedy now sweet girl.” He commanded softly, his gloved thumb skimming along my cheek sweetly contrasting his words.

    “I hardly think wanting a kiss from my soulmate is greedy.” I countered teasingly, fluttering my eye lashes and pushing my bottom lip out at him. His body visibly reacting to me calling him my soulmate. His cheeks flushed red and he leaned in like he was going to kiss me once again.

    His lips ghosted mine slowly, his hands keeping my head locked in place not that I would dare move when he was this close, “Say it again.” He asked, a new layer of vulnerability in play with him.

   “You’re my soulmate Kylo.” I whispered against his lips before he gently pressed us together again. Once again there was purpose, there was meaning, light all through my bones because of him. The man that deserved no less than the galaxy, and had it all and more, pressed against me in a fresher because out souls were connected to one another. I was vastly out of my playing field with this man and something about it made me feel like I was going to learn to run before I learned to walk.

    I pulled away from him this time, he hesitated, trying to regain his self-control before moving forward. His grip on my face loosening up as my hands explored his torso softly, trying not to cross any of his boundaries. “You’re…” He looked so conflicted, so lost, unable to say every thought in his head. His mind so jumbled that even one sentence was too difficult. I didn’t push him to say anything at all, he just shook his head and retreated to stand before me.

    “I need to use the fresher before we sleep.” I mumbled, sorry to be changing the subject before he could express what he was thinking. But the smile on his face made my heart shine, he welcomed the diversion away from whatever plagued his mind before.

    “I’ll lay some things out for you in the closet.” He offered, and with a swift kiss to my forehead he left me to my own devices to get clean.

    The fresher had an endless stream of hot water, I don’t think I had ever experienced anything close to this luxury. His soap smelled dark and musky like him, laced with spices that I had only smelled at the market before. The stream of water resetting my mind for the night, giving me time to realize that as enthralling as Kylo was, we needed to talk before doing anything too risqué. The steam that fogged the mirrors had cleared my mind from the soft caresses Kylo bestowed on me earlier.

    He held his promise, leaving out the set of night clothes I had packed and a towel for me. I took the time to ready myself for bed before I emerged into the bedroom. Kylo sat in the bed that looked much smaller with the large man on top of it. He had a datapad and was looking intensely down at the object. He didn’t hear me come in until the doors automatically skimmed shut behind me.

    Kylo’s eyes raked up my form only outfitted in the thin nightgown I’ve worn all of my adult life. He swallowed thickly, discarding the datapad on a shelf next to the bed an welcomed me to sit next to him. I moved slowly, not wanting to do anything that was odd to him or something that maybe only my planet did. It’s becoming clearer that he had a very different lifestyle than I was used to.

   Nevertheless, he pulled back the covers and welcomed me in his normal-sized, yet somehow small, bed. The lights overhead dimmed, but did not shut off and he laid down. At first, we laid separately, an awkward tension hung in the air, keeping us repelled from one another not wanting to break the boundaries. I made the first move, scooting closer to the middle of the bed, which was more like his side due to his large stature, hoping he would do the same.

    “I’ve never been in a bed this comfortable.” I admitted shyly looking up at him as he propped himself up to look down at me. His hand skimmed my arm softly up and down as we spoke.

    “This is nothing compared to my bed in Coruscant,” He began softly his voice lulling me once more into a comfortable serenity, “It’s much larger too, far too large for just myself.” He tested experimentally waiting my reaction.

     “Do you share your bed often supreme leader?” I asked half-teasing, half-terrified of the possible answer. He was handsome, there was absolutely nothing stopping him from taking a thousand different women before me. He could have a wife back home, he could have a concubine, I had never considered the possibility before now. My veins turned to ice while I watched him answer.

     “No,” he ended my spiral with definitive assurance. “There has not been much time for romance admittedly.” His confession is whispered shamefully into the air of the bed between us.

    “Fate has a funny way of changing your plans.” I looked up at him only to find he was already watching me, his eyebrows furrowed but his expression was curious. He was trying to find something in my features but he was not coming up with an answer. “Do you believe in fate?” I asked, startling him out of his concentration.

    “I believe in the force.” He countered, swerving around my question. I cared little about that, realizing what he said. The ancient force myths were rarely spoken of on my planet, and even more rare was it not used as a cautionary tale. The limited knowledge available at the library was biased, and my father kept many of the ‘radical’ copies out of my hands.

     I shot up in the bed, no longer able to stay peacefully laying with him, onto my knees to continue the conversation. “You believe in the force too!” I all but shrieked out excitedly, thrilled about the new avenues of conversation we could research and debate together. “My father always told me they were just old myths! He never let me put any real stock into the stories, but I knew it! If the Supreme Leader of the Galaxy believes it, it must be true!” I rambled out quite loud and quite fast and once I had come to take a breath and look at Kylo he was laughing.

     “Sweet girl,” He chuckled out, adjusting his position to a more active one on the bed, and lifting my chin to meet his gaze, “I don’t want to shock you, but I thought it was common knowledge.” He began.

      “What? The force? It’s hardly common here, no one had time for my fanciful tales anymore.” I rebutted, slightly irritated at the thought of so many people dismissing me and I was right the whole time. The only reason they dismissed me is because I was just a little girl to them. I then realized that I was probably just some ignorant little girl in Kylo’s eyes too. He was the supreme leader of the galaxy and my home planet didn’t even think the force was real. How was I supposed to be Kylo’s equal when I don’t know anything about life outside my own planet?

    “Sweet girl,” He cooed out, bringing my attention back onto him, “You were up in the clouds for a moment,” he shifted forward bringing me closer to him, “I thought you knew, the force is very real, and I am trained to yield it with the Sith lords among me.” He spoke soft in volume but hard in resolution creating an odd tone. Yet the only thing I could think of was that my soulmate, the absolute reflection and completion of myself was a Sith Lord. All the years of reading the myths, of understanding bits and pieces of these Jedi and Sith masters battling to the end of time over freedom and peace and justice now I had one right in front of me. I wondered if he could hear any of my thoughts. That brought me abruptly from my shocked state.

    “Can you really read my mind?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. His worried, and dare I say conflicted position, dropped with the mindless question and he huffed before explaining.

    “I can choose to know whatever I want about you sweet girl.” He spoke mysteriously. My excitement barely quelled by his non answer which forced me back to sitting, hoping he would elaborate. “I can enter your mind without your permission, but its painful. However, when you’re preoccupied with feelings, you project messages through the force, and I can hear those.” He explained slowly, allowing me to absorb the information he fed me by hand.

    “What kind of things have I projected?” I asked plainly.

     “In the library, when you saw me for the first time, I could hear your thoughts.” He spoke slowly with every word a new possibility for my brain to process. “Your thoughts are so pure, so strong my sweet girl.” He finished with a compliment, urging me towards him. I took the opportunity to lay my head on my chest, he countered by tracing my left hand with his right.

    “I don’t know much,” I felt the need to explain myself, “All of my knowledge comes from the books in the library, and most of is too old, or incredibly one sided.” I scoffed at the stances taken in most of the stories about the history of the Force. “You know, you’ve seen much more than I have, more than I ever thought possible.” I mumbled into the chisels of his chest.

     “I’m glad you’ve not seen what I have seen.” His voice holding secrets from demons he had yet to exorcise from his head. “I can’t promise that I tell you everything now, nor can I promise that you’ll like what I have been in my past. I can’t-“ His voice was shaking, his eyes glossed over with the look of a thousand defeats passing through.

     “Will you love me?” I interrupted him, shaking him from the dark road he was heading down, “Will you love me? And be loyal to me? And be patient while I try to learn?” I countered with the love that I knew was imprinted in my soul and matching on his, I don’t need riches, or adventures, or galaxies bowing down at our feet. The universe gave me this man for a reason, and I wasn’t going to give up because of his past. “Will you try?”

    The last one seemed to get his attention, his striking gaze hazed with unshed tears matching my gaze of unwavering support, “Yes.” He answered simply. Agreeing to not be a different man, but to be himself and try something new.

     “That’s all I need from you.” I reassured him, laying back down on his chest, listening to his heart beat calm slowly from the anxious beats before. His breathing slowed immensely, leading me to believe he could be asleep, but the lights weren’t quite off, nor were his hands quite still.

     Just as I was drifting off to sleep, in the odd stage of awake and away his voice rumbled through his chest, had I not been using him as a pillow I’m certain I would have missed it. “Marry me?” it was soft, a timid ask from the man that lay beneath me.

    “Kylo?” I called out, mostly looking for clarification. It wasn’t odd that he wanted to get married to me, not at all. Most couples, after finding their soulmate, got married quickly, not wanting to part from one another. My sister married her soulmate within a week of meeting him, my parents within the month. It wasn’t odd for me, but from what I knew that was hardly the case outside of my world. I didn’t want him to ask for my sake, I wanted him to ask because he wants to marry me.

     “I promise I will try; I will be patient and teach you what you want to know, I will be loyal to you, I-“ he broke off, his voice faltering, but regaining it’s strength, “I will love you.” He stated, confident in his own feelings for the first time. His fingers stilled on my back, waiting for my response.

     “I will love you too Kylo.” I spoke softly, gripping my hand on his arm, bracing myself to look at him. He looked terrified, vulnerable, but he saw me and he looked happy.  “I will marry you.” And despite the long days ahead, and the seemingly endless amount of things I had left to learn about the world that lay before us at our feet, all I could think about is how quickly the man had taken every part of my heart and soul by storm.

    I am completely and irrevocably his and he is completely and irrevocably mine.

[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader - Integrated Revelations (2/3)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me.

*Tbh, I was attempting something and I don’t I feel like I’m getting really bad at writing Eobard.. I’m trying ;-; bear with me things will deviate from the plot. Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

Part 1  Part 3

Word Count: 4687

You shut your eyes, upon reopening them you soundlessly shifted over to your boyfriends’ side as he spoke with a raspy, chilling voice. Like a Queen should to a King. “I mean, who are you really?” Eobard questioned skillfully; one leg crossed over the other. You glanced between both men before your blank gaze settled upon Barry.

“Dr. Wells, what are you doing?”

Eobard’s demeanor did not falter at Barry’s question. The villainous speedster dropped his leg from where it was and sat forward. He hunched himself, elbows pressed onto the edges of the armrests. “None of it adds up. The interference with the comms, the speed equation, the Time Wraith.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as Eobard shook his head while continuing. Barry eyed the dark-haired scientist closely. “That's what we call them. Time Wraiths. Scary, aren't they?” Eobard chuckled darkly to himself. “I thought, ‘Oh, no, a Time Wraith has found me.’ But then I thought, ‘No, no, no.’ You know what you're doing.” He snapped for emphasis. You dropped your gaze, running your fingers over the back of his chair before deciding to take a step back and lean against the pebbled wall. No matter how many times you were in the Time Vault, it always unsettled you the amount of power and knowledge and secrets Eobard can keep within it “Now, the Time Wraith is after someone who's travelled through time...” Eobard tilted his head at Barry, “and doesn't know what they're doing.” A smirk remained plastered on the Wells imposter while Barry’s eyes flickered up at you momentarily. His apprehensive green hues met Eobard’s icy gaze.

Your speedster boyfriend’s words clicked. This version of Barry doesn’t have the faintest idea of how to manipulate time travel like Eobard. He can easily get caught by those monsters. You crossed your arms as you observed the two speedsters. One in control- potent, as always, and the other rendered helpless in those meta-dampening cuffs. Unlike the other version we met. The one who knows about my powers, who denied me an answer.

Barry looked incredulously at Eobard. Choking out a nonchalant laugh, Barry glanced away while feigning his innocence, but the two of you knew this was not your Barry Allen. “Dr. Wells come on. It's me. It's... it's Barry. I don't...” Barry reached out to touch the cool metal of the cuffs. You wanted to step forward to help him out, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to trust this version of Barry either. At least this one’s not giving me headaches.

“Really? You are good.” Eobard puffs out a curt laugh, shaking his head one more and clapping mockingly. “You are good, and I would believe you, except that…” The scientist sped off from his chair, icy blue eyes with a piercing gaze as he towered over Barry. You took a step forward at Eobard’s sudden display with a frown grazing your features and eyes widening a fraction. Intimidation exuded from the older speedster. But your eyes quickly flickered to see Barry’s response. Nothing. “Nothing? I move like this, you barely flinch.” Barry glared up at Eobard with such abhorring emotions in his eyes. “You know who I am. Don't you?” You watched Eobard taunt Barry as he stepped back beside you, leaning back as well. Tension hung thickly in the air. Barry crinkled his nose at you and Eobard then attempted to phase his hand out of the cuffs but to no avail. He should have known better than to try that with those cuffs on. You cleared your throat as Eobard snickered at the younger speedster. “Oh! And you're from the future. Do you know how I know that? Because I haven't taught my Barry Allen how to phase through objects... yet.”

Barry laughed mirthlessly dismissing your existence, but the speedster knew he was defeated. He wasn’t as skilled in the art of deception as you and Eobard were. “Let me out of here, Thawne.”

You heard Eobard sigh at the utterance of his name. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you eyed the speedster while he pushed off the wall. “I know. You're upset.” Eobard dragged his white chair to take a seat once more. The genius deceiver coyly grinned at the scarlet speedster, bound to the wheelchair. “But it does me good to hear that name again. Now, onto the bigger question.” He fumbled with his fingers, anticipation- ideas- possible reasons on exactly why The Flash had decided to take another detour to the past whirled inside his mind.

“Why are you here?” You piped up unfurling your arms, instead tucking your hands into the back of your pants pockets. “You’re from a different time obviously, couldn’t you figure out your own problems from there? Why bother looking for solutions in a past you clearly despise?” Barry refused to answer you. “Or do you always need to run to Dr. Wells whenever little Barry Allen gets stuck?” Eobard glanced back at the venom dripping from your words. The hard look on your face, the sheer coldness settling within your eyes at his archnemesis. It made his heart swoon yet… Eobard felt worried at just how frigid you can be. How easy it was for you to turn off those positive emotions that you carry on inside. Would you do the same to him?

“Because I want to go faster,” Barry’s sneered, an abrupt response after your malicious tone caused Eobard’s head to snap back at towards him. “And he’s the only one who can teach me.” The forensics scientist forced out the statement, a steely expression on his face. Barry narrowed his eyes from you down to Eobard, a hint of curiosity in those hazel-greens. “You're the only one who's figured out the equation. The Speed Force. You've manipulated it. How did you do that?”

Before you could say anything, Eobard stood up with crossed arms, whispering to himself. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No.” The older speedster locked his gaze at the wall, running the tips of his fingers over the pebbled half-spheres. Curiously, you quirked an eyebrow before your eyes met with Barry’s, who only slightly shrugged at you. Eobard circled Barry, like a predator circling its next kill. Instead… you sensed something was off by the way his shoulders tensed. “You'd only come here if something went wrong.”

You uttered; a wave of uneasiness flooded over you, “What-but-”

“-If you're still alive, then that means...” Eobard turned to Barry with a grimace. He was one the other side of the room now. You were between the two men, a good distance between each. Your fingers fidgeted as they now remain beside you, heart clenching that all of this wouldn’t work. Dread began stirring inside you, fueling the headache you head earlier, and a sense of insecurity snatched your heart. So, the other Barry was onto to something, he just didn’t want to tell me… I don’t-We don’t get our happy ending. “I haven't beaten you. If you're still alive... that means my plan fails.” Eobard swallows thickly as the words escaped him, avoiding your gaze as a pained expression crossed his face. I don’t go home. I don’t end up taking her with me, making her my bride like I promised all those nights ago. Living far away together from The Flash robbing me from anything else that brings me joy. He blinked a few times, his moment of realization that he would fail turned to pure ballistic intentions in milliseconds. “And if my plan fails,” you shuddered at Eobard’s frustration flourishing as he kicked the chair over. You felt stunned in your place. You felt small. You hated whenever he was in these rage fits, especially when they were about Barry. “I don't get to go home, and if that's the case, well, then-” Eobard had aggressively rounded in quick strides to the restrained speedster, a phasing hand slicing through the air to strike Barry.

“No, no, no! Hey, hey, hey! It's the opposite! It's the opposite!” Barry shouted rapidly to stop the futuristic speedster, holding a hand out to protect himself from Eobard’s phasing hand. His other arm reflexively pulled at his restraint, wishing he could phase out of the cuffs and manifest his speed again. “It... you trick me. You harnessed my speed. We turn on the accelerator to create a path for you to go home. I go back in time. You go back to yours.” The scarlet speedster nodded his head in your direction as he spoke up again before letting his eyes meet Eobard’s heated gaze. You dare say that you saw a hint of sadness in the young speedster’s eyes when he looked at you. “She goes with you. You won. Yeah.” Barry took a breath in, muscles taut at the prospect of his enemy killing him before he got the chance to stop Zoom and his reign of terror.

“Eobard, stop.” You didn’t know when during the exchange you had found yourself right by his side, maneuvering yourself to stand in front of him, promptly blocking his view of Barry. “Eo, look at me.” He did. The dark-haired man gave you a dangerous look, jaw clenched while you reached out to hold onto his raised arm. Your fingers touched his wrist gently. “Breathe,” you spoke intently, searching his eyes for any sign of reason that he normally held. “Anger blinds even the strongest of people- the smartest of people, including speedsters.” You told us that. The phasing hand subsided as you lowered it with ease. Eobard shut his eyes, his hand slipping into yours as he reopened them. The speedster knew what you were saying, knew that he needed to rationalize before acting- before he executed this version of The Flash.

A disposable version, if it means anything to you.

Barry ran a hand over his opposite shoulder, his arm was beginning to numb in place, but his eyes never left the two of you. He clenched and unclenched his hand to circulate the blood. As volatile as Harry is back in his time, Eobard was on equal par. The only difference being that you never knew exactly when the Reverse Flash would bite back, or to what degree. Barry made no comment when you linked hands, but the brown-haired CSI caught the flicker of change in Eobard’s eyes. The yellow speedster’s anger dissipated behind those baby blue hues as his gaze softened for you. Barry observed how you and Eobard deeply cared for each other. All over again. He almost felt bad for the events that would surely lead to Eobard’s removal from existence and your forever broken heart. How the two of you would be forever separated. Almost.

You were conflicted. Hurt. Frustrated. You dad no clue what to think. Barry’s your best friend. He wouldn’t… intentionally hurt you, would he? But then a way future version of Barry seemingly dismissed your existence and your concerns over Eobard. Now this version treated you with the same dismissal, if not with even more loathing. Both versions clearly knew you were with the man in the yellow suit, but… Your heart is a kind one, no matter how damaged or twisted it could get. Deep down, you knew that whatever version of Barry you meet along the way, he’d always be your best friend. Even if Eobard did despise the young speedster and his existence.

“Then why are you here? Why are you here now?” The yellow speedster reverted to a more defensive stance; eyes now locked with Barry’s. You turned to look at this version of your best friend.

“Because when I got back, a singularity had formed. And now the only way for me to learn how to get faster and stop the singularity from happening was to come here. Now.”

“Well, that's good to know.” Eobard sighed to himself, icy hues glancing to yours as a twisted smile greeted his features. Barry looked up at you for any indication that you would help get him out. You pursed your lips regretfully with hesitation. Eobard walked over to his chair, setting it back before pacing once more in the Time Vault. The heroic speedster was increasingly growing uncomfortable on the cold ground. “There's just... Just one thing that occurs to me. I don't need you. Do I?” You watched him turn to Barry, dismissing the look you shot him. “Not this you certainly. Oops. You probably should've thought of that before you came back here. Shame...” A malicious laugh left Eobard as he slowly approached Barry’s helpless form, his fingers twitching to use the powers of the negative speed-force to end Barry Allen. “You ran all the way back here just to die.”

“You can’t be serious,” you hissed at the man you love, side-stepping in front of Eobard. The corner of his lips twitched in an unsettling manner; amusement slightly present in his eyes. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt him!” A quiet air of relief left Barry. He didn’t… He never knew of the promise you had made with Eobard. That his life wouldn’t be in the hands of death in any way. But he could use this.

“This isn’t your Barry,” Eobard protested in a low voice.

“This is a future version of my best friend, whom you promised me you wouldn’t hurt, maim, and/or kill! Our promise includes any version of Barry Allen.” Eobard chewed on the inside of his cheeks at your words, a sour planted itself on his face when he glanced once more at Barry. The man in the yellow suit knew he would honor his promise to you in the end. He keeps his word, after all.

“You heard her, I’m untouchable.” A cocky smile crossed Barry’s face, shooting it right at Barry. You threw a glare at him, shut the fuck up Barry. I’m the only one holding him back from phasing a hand right through your heart. Any version of you. For once, think before you do something like speaking, especially when you aren’t in a state to be taunting an evil speedster that has you bound. “But by all means, you kill me... Barry... this Barry, your Barry, he learns it all.” He gestured to you and Eobard. Dread filled Eobard as Barry continued to tout out words confidently. The speedster had carefully planned this out, just in case he was to get caught by Thawne. “There's a hidden letter telling him how it ends, how to beat you, everything. Anything happens to me; you never make it back home.” Barry turned to you with stoically cold eyes. “She never sees you again.” Take those words as you will, Thawne. Your hands fell limply beside you as you Eobard clenched his hands into tight fists. You heard your heart drum loudly in your ears at the prospect of this Barry’s threat. With heavy feet, you padded away from Barry before turning to eye him with cautious eyes. Eobard’s face was devoid of any emotion as he took a seat while you settled beside him. “Go on. Kill me, Thawne. See how this all ends.” Eobard held his breath, weighing his options. Pros and cons. Gains and losses. “Now, you're gonna help me get faster.” Resting a hand on Eobard’s shoulder you squeezed it, trying to use your touch to convey ease into him while Barry smirked triumphantly at the two of you. Eobard’s face twitched in silent fuming.

“Dr. Wells, Ms. (L/N),” Gideon’s voice cut through the deadly second of silence, “the time wraith has appeared.” The AI broadcasted a screen of Cisco and Caitlin running to the Pipeline, entering the cell that Hartley resides in and sealing it. Its grotesque body swayed in the air. Half-formed limbs scratching the glass as your friends screamed for any indication that this thing can be yoinked away and out of existence.

“Barry! (Y/N)! Dr. Wells!” Caitlin shrieked as the Time Wraith pounded on the glass, shattering a segment, but not piercing through into the cell. Ghostly fumes emitted from the hauntingly decaying figure. Cisco and Hartley were fumbling with the gauntlets while another piercing scream echoed throughout that sector of the labs.

“Oh my god, we have to do something! It’s going to kill them!” You whipped your head to the two of them. They’re the ones with speed.

“You let it track you here,” Eobard turned with a pointed look at Barry.

Barry shook his restraints, with an anxious look, “Get me out of here! Come on!”

Eobard sneered in a gruff tone, “If that thing comes after me and messes with my plans, you're all dead.”

“Now’s not the time to be making death threats, especially when he’s the one with max speed-force in his veins!” You reprimanded Eobard, who threw you a look while rolling his eyes at you before setting Barry free. Standing up, Barry felt his speed return to him as he shook his numbed limb. The two men nodded at each other, yellow and red electricity crackling in the air. Eobard wrapped a lithe limb around your waist, his other hand firmly grasping the back of his wheelchair. Both speedsters sped out of the Time Vault in a torrent of lightning.

***

“I'm sorry that we didn't come sooner,” Barry apologized, for the 2nd time as he stepped quickly into the Cortex with you trailing behind him and Eobard. His heart was heavy at the prospect of his presence here was causing his friends more trouble than he intended. Caitlin and Cisco took their respective seats at the main Cortex monitors while you and Dr. Wells lingered a bit behind.

“It's all right, Inky's gone. I don't see anything,” Cisco breathed out, eyes focused on the computer screen. He flipped through all the camera footage before turning his head to Dr. Wells. “You know, we'd be toast if wasn't for Hartley and those gauntlets.”

“Well, self-preservation is a very strong motivator, but he stays in the cell until I say otherwise,” Eobard starkly dictated, subtly out of breath from the little run around the labs to the Pipeline. Your eyes raked over him worriedly. He didn’t have all his speed, especially since he used up a good amount on Christmas. Eobard’s body’s still feeling the side effects of his speed-force in a state of flux.

Cisco turned back to the monitors, “Okay, I'm just saying.”

“So, the two places this thing has attacked are here and CCPD.” You took your tablet and ran scans over the Labs then the city for an abnormal particle signature. You also had Gideon secretly run a scan over Barry’s lab, just in case it decided to make a reappearance there. Particularly ones of tachyons or from the speed-force.

“The common denominator being...” Caitlin trailed off, swiveling her chair towards Barry.

“Me. Yeah, I know. I just... I don't know why.” Barry let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, you must have done something to piss him off.” Cisco added in; his computer pinged negatively after a couple of scans. “Satellite hasn't found anything.”

Eobard nervously wrung his hands, eyes meeting yours for a moment. “We need to find a more permanent solution to this problem.” He gestured when he continued to Caitlin and Cisco. “Start by repairing Hartley's gauntlets. That's about as good a first step as any.”

“I got some parts for it.” Cisco nodded at Dr. Wells, glancing at you. You already knew what he was about to ask.

“I’ve got any vitals and scans for the city until you two come back.” You held up your tablet with a little smile on your face. “Don’t worry, I’ve go your back.”

“Let's go for it,” Caitlin grinned, turning to Cisco. The two of them took their leave. Once they were out of earshot and out of sight you whipped around with an incredulous look on your face.

“You don't know how to stop a Time Wraith?” You and Barry both quired, which irritated Eobard at the sync.

“None of us do.” The speedster responded roughly. You felt bad for Eobard, his entire plan to get home is in jeopardy because of a future version of Barry. “That's why we always try and avoid them in our travels.”

“‘We’?” You and Barry just gave each other looks, simultaneously responding together once more. The scarlet speedster sneered at you, that was enough to shut you up and take a seat back at the monitors.

“‘Speedsters’... we're not the only two out there, you know?”

“This isn't the first time I've time traveled. How come I've never seen one of these until now?”

Eobard stood up, his demeanor clearly showed he was pissed and exasperated, but he kept his emotions in check. Especially with the Time Wraith looming around somewhere. He stepped closer towards Barry. “Because you ran out of luck.” You watched Barry lean against the railing, shaking his head when Eobard continued before grudgingly meeting your eyes. You offered him a sympathetic smile, he reluctantly returned it. “And Time Wraiths hate it when speedsters manipulate the timeline, and now that thing's gonna do everything it can to end you.” You wanted to say something but decided against it. Barry scoffed at Eobard, rolling his eyes when the man turned away from him. “Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna go to CCPD. You're gonna see what you can find to help us stop this thing-” Eobard nodded at you. You collected your things and got up, ready to work. “-We'll do the same here.”

“Well, what am I supposed to be looking for?

You started, “Barr, You're in forensics-“

“-Figure something out.” The man in the yellow suit only sent a warning glare to Barry, pulling his damned wheelchair along with him.

“Hey, what about the equation? Me getting faster?” Barry’s nostrils flared, stepping forward and gesturing to the clear board that held the speed equation.

“If we don't stop this thing, there's gonna be no point in me teaching you anything.” With that the two parted, Eobard sat back in his chair and he wheeled to his side lab whereas Barry let out an exhausted sigh. He rubbed his face, eyes meeting yours once more. Grabbing his coat, the young speedster pushed past you, his shoulders bumping yours. The action didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who narrowed his eyes from afar then turned back to his work. Your eyes lingered for a moment before an idea popped into your head.

“I think I should go with him,” you turned towards Eobard, running a hand over your hair and loosening your hair out of the hair tie. Maybe that’ll help with the headaches.

“What?”

“With Barry”

“No, absolutely not!”

“Why not?” You pouted, taking a seat beside him. You subtly wanted to see how many buttons you can push while this version of Barry was here.

“Over my. Rotting. Corpse.”

You froze at his comment, his body was already turned away from you. A mental image of Eobard’s corpse vividly plagued you. Blinking a few times, that phrase echoed in your head. It’s like I’ve heard that before… but where? You needed to shake the feeling off. “Don’t say things like that! If anything happens, I’ll let you know what’s going on.” You lightly slap his arm. The corner of Eobard’s lips turned up slightly then he leaned over for a kiss. You gave him a chaste one to finish your defense on the situation. “Plus, you and I both know you can handle things here at the lab. You don’t need me around.”

“I will always want you to be around me, even if I’m working. Besides the point- stay away from Barry.” He emphasized. “The Time Wraith is here for him; it hasn’t detected me. I don’t…” Eobard sighed through his nose, his gaze locked onto yours and you felt your breath hitch. “I can’t lose you to that monster.”

“…”

“Please, kitten.” He looked at you desperately.

“Only because you said ‘please’,” you kissed his cheek fondly, giving in to him. You didn’t miss the way his voice strained at the thought of losing you or the fact that he asked. Eobard generally never asks, not until he met you. The speedster glanced at you when you were recalibrating the satellites, he noticed the fake grin that you plastered on your face at his corpse comment. He made a mental note to ask you what’s wrong later. It hurt his heart to see you put up a wall right now, but it was understandable, to say the least. “You know, I always like watching you work.”

“Why is that?”

“Dunno, maybe I just like watching you work your magic with those capable hands of yours.”

“I can show you just how capable these hands are tonight.” Your speedster wiggled his eyebrows at you, eliciting a deep blush and giggle. His hand left the device on the table, resting on your thigh. You felt your body temperature spike up even more at his touch.

“Eobard, you can’t say things like that at work!”

“Why not? I’m the boss.” The speedster whispered to you, his blue eyes hypnotizing you. Eobard leaned close, slotting himself to kiss your neck a few times.

A sweet sigh left your lips. “What if the others walk in on us?” You pressed a hand against his sturdy chest. Eobard pressed a kiss below your ear before a chuckle left his lips.

“I’m sure they’ll allow me a free pass, just this once.”

***

After a few hours or so, Cisco and Caitlin came back with the gauntlets. The two explained how the managed to save every piece and analyze their potential. Cisco and Dr. Wells remained in a heavily – mechanical engineer type of conversation that you and Caitlin stayed silent for.

“So, can these gauntlets be salvaged?” Dr. Wells questioned, wheeling closer to the displayed Hartley’s sonic gauntlets.

“Their electron guns are fried,” Cisco shook his head.

“So, it shorted the wave tubes-“

“-And destroyed the amplifiers.” They both finished the thought.

“Yeah, but to be honest with you, I don't know how to manipulate the frequency variance.” Cisco spoke, glancing at the three of you.

“Hartley would know.” Caitlin added in, hands on her sides, “He's the one who did it.”

“As much as a dick that he was, he seems to be an expert with sound waves and frequency variance of such caliber,” you mused, nodding with Caitlin.

“See if he can help, but he stays in the cell,” the genius scientist instructed,

“But then what? That thing's gonna come back.” Cisco retaliated

“I don't know,” Dr. Wells stated exasperatedly. He didn’t know what to do, Hartley’s guns were the only thing he’s known to deter the Time Wraiths. If only the electron guns weren’t fired then he would have been able to dissect and adjust the gauntlets.

“Hey, its going to be ok,” you tried reassuring everyone, mainly Eobard. “We always end up crossing over these kinds of bridges. We’ve got the smartest minds and the most skilled scientists here.” Cisco and Caitlin smiled a bit at you. But you saw the calculating look on Eobard’s eyes. The futuristic villain was taking this harder than Barry himself, walking on eggshells particularly with concealing his speed. Taking any precaution to ensure his safety as well as yours. Your boyfriend explained that if you had gotten closer to the Time Wraith it would sense you. You blushed slightly at the next thought Theoretically, he said his speed-force signature particles had rubbed off on me… Probably from one too many nights of-

“Where is he? Where's the other Flash?” A different Barry demanded. Your version of Barry demanded, out of breath and pissed as hell. Your eyes widened at the sudden appearance of this time’s Flash, mouth open for a bit before closing it. Eobard just covered his face, silently counting to 10 before he choked a bitch.

Well shit, I totally forgot about our Barry.

“Right here.”

Well fuck

[flourchildwrites]

One is All, All is One

Izumi Curtis:  Passing Housewife, Master Alchemist and... Teacher?  It's more likely than you think.

Fandom:  Fullmetal Alchemist:  Brotherhood & Manga

Relationships & Characters:  Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis, Pinako Rockbell, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric

Genre:  Family Feels, Alchemy Training, TW Canonical Reference to Child Loss

Rating:  Teen And Up Audiences

Word Count:  3,076 words

A/N:  Happy (belated) holidays, @ratsbys!  I'm your pinch-hitter for the @fmasecretsanta2020.  When I saw that you liked Izumi Curtis, I couldn't help myself.  She's my favorite character (hence my AO3 pseud). Thank you for waiting so patiently for your gift.  I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed creating it for you.

Read on AO3

“How can I say no to that?  Of course, they may go.”

Izumi is almost taken aback by the ease of Pinako Rockbelk’s answer, but there seems to be a lot of that reasoning going around today.  Perhaps, this is just the effect that the Elric brothers have on ordinarily reasonable people.  Housewives suddenly agree to become teachers, and trusted guardians allow their wards to live with strangers while studying alchemy.

“My husband and I run a butcher shop in Dublith,” Izumi explains. “If the boys pass a preliminary test, they would live there with us while I teach them.  I would also insist they train in martial arts to provide a practical application for their skills.  Both aspects of the training are rigorous.  Many pupils wait until they are older to learn.”

Pinako smiles congenially. “Dublith sounds like a nice place, and I think you will find both boys are ready to learn what you have to teach, especially if they are allowed to do it together.”

The short, elderly mechanic sits opposite Izumi and puffs happily on her long pipe.  She answers each question with ease, and the passing housewife realizes that Pinako’s demeanor is unshakable. She might be doing something as mundane as ordering breakfast at her favorite local restaurant, not handing over custody of two young boys to complete strangers.

The thought almost makes Izumi smirk before she remembers where they are, a small farming town named Resembool that sits precariously close to the troubled Ishvalan territory.  In this town, the sheep outnumber the people, and though there might have been charming restaurants dotting the streets surrounding a bustling train station in the past, this progress was wiped away by the 1907 terrorist attack.  Resembool, much like their residents, gives the appearance of a pastoral paradise, but beneath the pretty picture, there lies loss and hardship.  Honestly, Izumi isn’t surprised that Alphonse and Edward want to travel for alchemy lessons; however, she is wary of the fact that Pinako, their guardian, will so casually allow it.

“Dr. Rockbell,” Izumi entreats, mindful of automail textbooks lining a nearby bookcase that prominently bear the elderly doctor’s honorific on their spine.

“It’s Pinako, dear,” she corrects with gentle (but firm) intonation.

Izumi grins awkwardly in reply and sets down the tea that young Winry served them earlier.  It smells divine—ginger tea with a hint of lemon and mint, but she has no stomach for it.

“Pinako, the training I specialize in can be physically and spiritually trying, especially for children.  Unfortunately, I can’t make exceptions.”

“Nor would I ask you to,” Pinako is quick to respond. “The boys’ father was an accomplished alchemist, and they’ve been playing around with it ever since they were old enough to read.  I would rather them learn under the guidance of a master.  Forgive me for being blunt, dear, but I believe the real question is if you think you are ready for students.”

Pinako takes a drag from the end of her pipe and exhales in a steady stream.  Izumi is grateful for the warm smoke clouding the sunny sitting room as the old woman peers through the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.  Her question cuts dangerously close to the quick.  The Flamel on the left side of Izumi’s chest pulses when she hears the word “master” and thinks of the boys as they are:  alchemy students, perhaps, but first and foremost, they are children—something Izumi has too little and too much experience with.

Is she ready?  For children under her roof?  For students eager to learn a skill that left her marred?

The grandfather clock on the sitting room wall counts three seconds before Izumi is pulled out of the mire of her mind by the comforting pressure of Sig’s hand on her knee, and when he speaks, it is with a gruff softness that makes her heart swell.

“We would have no trouble looking after the boys, though I think my wife wouldn’t want to deprive the boys’ father the opportunity to train them.”

At the mention of the absent man, Pinako tilts her chin downward; shadows deepen her wrinkles. “I’m told he has his reasons.  Still, Edward and Alphone’s father deprives himself of the opportunity to train his sons well enough on his own without anyone else helping him.  You would not be intruding.”

Her short arm leans toward the coffee table separating the couple, and she places her pipe in a metal ashtray before bringing her hands to rest in her lap.

“I never was an overbearing parent,” she states, “and I am also not as young as I once was.  Some days, these old bones feel too tired to look after three children. Winry’s interest in automail is something I can manage, but alchemy is beyond my field of expertise.  Edward and Alphonse would greatly benefit from some vigorous direction to channel their passion, and I sense in Izumi a tireless spirit.”

Sig beams down at his wife in agreement.

“If dear Trisha, their mother, were here, I believe she would agree.  They are determined to learn alchemy, and they have the gift to perform it.  But they can’t do that properly in Resembool, so I will allow the boys to train with you if you are agreeable.”

Izumi isn’t sure what persuades her, be it a reason or a feeling, but her resolve requires nothing more than her husband’s agreement.  Likewise, when she looks to Sig and finds his burly face full of admiration, she knows they are of the same mind.  The boys will return to Dublith with them, and if they pass the test, Izumi will teach them the art of alchemy.

“I will consider them as students,” Izumi announces, “provided they have the perseverance to learn alchemy.  They may not be ready, but there’s only one way to be certain.  I will test them as I was tested. We’ll see where they stand after a month.”

To the couple’s surprise, Pinako chuckles at the prospect of Edward and Alphonse not being ready as if she knows something Izumi and Sig do not.  With business concluded, the three adults rise from their seats and prepare themselves for the short walk to the nearby Elric family home to tell Edward and Alphonse the good news.

...

One is all; all is one.

This is the basis of alchemy.  It is a lesson that the boys must learn, divined in isolation through the cycle of life itself.  And until her new apprentices speak this law into being, Izumi cannot teach them.  They must figure it out by themselves.

She takes Pinako’s words to heart and does not shy away from the vigorous direction the good Dr. Rockbell prescribed.  Edward and Alphonse will be instructed in the same manner Izumi was taught.  They land upon a nearby island with soft sand, warm water and lush greenery that teems with life.  The passing housewife breathes in the humid air and pushes the last of the city smog from her lungs.  She doesn’t think about the ache in her belly during moments like these.  It is all part of the same alchemical cycle.  Each end engenders a new beginning.

And honestly, this new beginning on a beautiful island is a far cry from her first alchemy trial at frigid Briggs. Izumi’s methods may be bold, but she is hardly cruel.  Edward and Alphonse are, after all, still children.  Children stranded on a deserted island, but children nonetheless.

“You two are on your own,” she announces to a slightly bewildered Edward and Alphonse.

The boys stare back in surprise, and Izumi grins with confidence.  She places her hands squarely on her hips, and her voice swells with conviction. It’s been quite a while since she felt this sort of rush.  To be needed and valued.  And to be seen as both a housewife and a master alchemist.

It’s nice, very nice.  But that won’t soften Izumi’s resolve as a teacher.  She owes her students this much.

“If you do well, you will move on to the main training phase.  During this first stage, the use of alchemy is totally forbidden.”

But one little clue is in order, she thinks.  That is only fair.

“One is all, and all is one.  You have one month to figure out what that means.  You better find the answer in the allotted time, or else you are headed back to Resembool.”

To underscore her point, Izumi tosses a knife at the boy’s feet. It’s another gift, though they may not see it that way until later.  To be talented alchemists, they must understand the value of sacrifice.  They discard their daily comforts for the benefit of knowledge, and to sustain their lives, they must know what has been taken firsthand.  A knife is, simply put, essential to that task.

With one arm raised and a grin on her face, Izumi bids her pupils a fond farewell, almost wishing she could travel back through the threads of time to complete her own training again. “Bye,” she says confidently before the boys can respond.

As Sig paddles back toward the shore, he hums thoughtfully under his breath.

“A clue and a knife,” he observes.

“Too much?” Izumi asks.  The bridge of her nose wrinkles playfully with indecision.

Sig chuckles. “I think it’s just enough.”

...

Four days.

It’s been four days since she marooned abandoned purposefully left Edward and Alphonse on a nearby island in the name of introductory alchemy training (with a knife!).  Outwardly, Izumi is the picture of levelheaded confidence.  She says loud and proud that her pupils will have an abundant supply of food and water when her husband questions her methods.

But inwardly, she’s forever grateful that Sig chose to check in on them this morning.

He set off with a small knapsack after closing the butcher shop early.  And when she told him to “do what he felt he had to” with a stiff upper lip, Sig smiled so softly in return as if he knew what she really meant was, 'thank you.'

Now that she is alone, nervousness twists her belly into knots.  With her work in the butcher shop done for the day, the housewife wanders from room to room in her home, wondering how the boys might spend their days and taking note of her furniture’s construction.  No doubt, a few pieces are bound to be destroyed during their training.  Rigorous martial arts training requires an ambush or two.  Broken furniture is a fair trade for solid combat skills.

Yet, Izumi finds herself drawn to the details in each room:  family photos filled by two and fragile mementos from her travels around Amestris.  When she reaches the spare room at the end of the hall, she notices that the doorknob looks just like new, and indeed, this room is not a place she likes to dwell.  Though it is now filled with odds and ends that have no place in her home, it was once a nursery.

Soon, if Edward and Alphonse pass their test, it will be a student dormitory of sorts.

Izumi doesn’t know how to feel about this change.  Nevertheless, she chooses to focus on the new beginning laid at her feet rather than the dream of motherhood that slipped between her fingers.

It takes her hours to transmute the old furniture into a set of twin beds with a matching nightstand placed in between.  She dusts and busies herself into the evening, finding new places for old keepsakes and cleaning off an old desk at the far side of the room.  By the time Sig returns, Izumi has made a list of supplies the boys will need and has scoured the house for suitable fabric for new curtains.

It is only when she sees Sig’s dirt clad knees and windswept hair that Izumi realizes she might have acted too soon.

“How are they?” she asks, trying to summon her earlier confidence.

Sig smiles reassuringly, and her heart beats faster in relief.

“They’re doing ok,” he says. “I was close to calling off the exercise, but Edward decided to eat some ants.  Strange choice, but shortly after, they were setting traps for rabbits and making fishing poles.  I think they’re starting to understand your lesson.”

Amusement painted Izumi’s features. “Of all the things to eat on that island, he ate ants?”

“Everyone has to start somewhere,” Sig responds gently. “Maybe we should set aside some time to take the boys camping during their training.  Survival tactics are essential.”

A picturesque image burns itself into the housewife's mind before she can curb her enthusiasm—Izumi and Sig with Edward and Alphonse, camping under the stars.  She would like to teach them how to transmute shelter while Sig cooks a delicious meal over a modest campfire. Indeed, there’s an element of training in that activity, but there’s also a feeling of blissful domesticity that Izumi doesn’t want to put a name to.  At least, not yet.

“I’ll consider putting survival training in my curriculum,” Izumi announces as she turns on her heel and heads back down the hallway. “Now, I need to show you where the boys will be staying. I’m torn between two fabrics for the curtains, and we’ll need to go shopping for a few more things before they return.”

She doesn’t turn to see Sig’s expression, but somehow, Izumi knows he is also smiling.

...

There’s an impressive spread laid out on the table when the Elric brothers return from the island. It’s a feast for the senses, and the boys do not hesitate to tuck in.  They load their plates with thick cuts of beef, potatoes and a few spoonfuls of veggies.  Each dish is topped with a river of gravy and a crusty slice of buttered bread.

Izumi can’t remember the last time her kitchen felt so full, and she grins to herself when she thinks no one is watching.  Edward and Alphonse adapt to their new surroundings quickly. The boys eat exuberantly as they tell Sig about their time on the island.  The burly bear of a man listens intently to Edward’s exaggerated account of their time as if he hadn’t secretly checked in on the boys every few days. As she finishes serving her own plate and sits down to dinner, Izumi mentally confirms her plans to take her students camping sometime.

For survival training purposes, of course.

“You should have seen us, teacher!” Ed exclaims. “We made traps and fishing poles without alchemy.”

Izumi checks her enthusiasm despite the way her heart jumps at the name they’ve given her: teacher.

“You did well, boys, but the real work begins tomorrow. You’ll need to study and practice to learn alchemy.”

Alphonse perks up. “Oh, we will, teacher. We’ll be the best students you’ve ever had.”

She begins to say that they’re the only students she’s ever taken on, but something about the way their golden eyes gleam with passion and pride causes Izumi to pause.  Her introduction to alchemy was nothing like theirs.  Her reception was cold; her preliminary test was colder.  And she cannot recall such a fine meal shared with her master.

“Honey,” Sig interrupts.  His timing is impeccable as always. “Why don’t you tell them about your test and how you had to fight a bear.”

Izumi can’t help the confident smirk that settles on her mouth.  As Edward and Alphonse hang on her every word, she recounts her experiences in Briggs with as much fearsome detail as she can remember.  The children lean in to listen while they continue to shove heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes in their mouths.  By the time their plates are cleared, Izumi feels as if she is a living, breathing legend, an all-powerful alchemist that has much to teach her students.

It occurs to Izumi, sometime between dinner and dessert, that Edward and Alphonse need more than an alchemy education.  These orphans from Resembool need guidance in all things.  They need care and concern from people not spread so thin as Pinako.  The phrase ‘role models’ burrows its way into Izumi’s mind, and as she watches Sig help the boys set dessert plates around their small table, she begins to understand what Pinako might have seen in the passing husband and wife from Dublith.

It’s too soon to say they are a family and too much to call the warm, tight feeling in her chest ‘love.’ But there is something wonderful about the easy way the Elrics belong in this home, like puzzle pieces tailor-made for empty spaces that Izumi once believed could never be filled.

After dinner, Edward and Alphonse wash up and tuck themselves in bed.  Their tired bodies sprawl out over the new sheets.  They sleep soundly on a pair of soft mattresses that cushion their ambitious dreams.  Sig busies himself cleaning up the kitchen while Izumi settles at her desk in the study.  She selects a recipe for breakfast alongside her lesson plans for the boys’ first formal alchemy instruction when an idea strikes her.

Izumi isn’t entirely sure why she feels compelled to write Pinako a letter, but the delicate fibers of her favorite stationery are pressed underneath her pen before she can second guess herself.  She shares the good news about the brothers passing their preliminary exam with Pinako and thanks the doctor for the opportunity to nurture their talent.  In the last paragraph, the housewife makes a small request for recipes that the boys favor to make their stay more comfortable.  

Lastly, Izumi’s pen hovers over the signature line for a moment, wondering which phrase to use in closing.  She goes with her instinct and writes the first thing that comes to mind.

‘One Is All, All Is One,’ she pens in the space above her signature block.

Perhaps, the perceptive Granny will know the phrase’s meaning, or maybe she’ll consider the odd saying little more than a mantra Izumi favors.  Both are true.  Still, the concept of a beginning within an end, of equivalent exchange and interconnectivity of all things, seems particularly poignant tonight.

Izumi sits back in her desk chair and sighs softly to herself.  She knew that the next few months would be life-changing for the two boys occupying the room at the far end of the hall.  Until this moment, she had not expected how impactful their presence would be for her in return.

[alysemeadfad]

𝕽𝖊𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓

Most would say its easy for a teenager to rebel at any point in time, but I find it hard to rebel in any way, most teens get tattoos, piercings, cut and dye their hair to rebel against their parents, but growing up with a mom who is tattooed, hair in fun dyed styles and piercings, I’m really just following in her footsteps she practically encourages. 

The only thing I rebel against is tidying my room and making cups of tea, cant really say I could start a world changing rebellion on that.

Rebellions i find important

1903–18 — Women’s Suffrage Movement The foundation of the Women’s Social and Political Union by Emmeline Pankhurst in 1903 began a more militant phase of the call for votes for women, which had been growing through the end of the 19th century. The Suffragettes used militant tactics like vandalism, arson, bombing and hunger strikes, with one member committing public suicide by throwing herself under the King’s horse at a race in 1913. The movement was wound up when some women were enfranchised in the 1918 Representation of the People Act, before all women over 21 were given the vote in 1928.

Suffragette Vera Wentworth in 1909, and the dress by Vaquera that it inspired

Stonewall riots 28 Jun 1969 – 3 Jul 1969 The Stonewall riots were a series of spontaneous demonstrations by members of the gay community in response to a police raid that began in the early morning hours of June 28, 1969, at the Stonewall Inn in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of Manhattan, New York City.

It is said that Marsha P. Johnson was the one who started the rebellion. Supposedly, throughout the bustle of the raid, Marsha threw a shot glass into a mirror and shouted, ” I got my civil rights!”.  With this inspiration and resistance against the police, other patrons began to follow.

Present day- Me Too movement.The Me Too movement, with variations of related local or international names, is a social movement against sexual abuse and sexual harassment towards women, where people publicize allegations of sex crimes.

The Punk Rebellion

the punk involved no protests or riots, it impacted people, fashion, music, society and everything to be honest.

The punk subculture advocates a do-it-yourself (DIY) ethic. During the subculture's infancy members were almost all from a lower economic class, and had become tired of the affluence that was associated with popular rock music at the time. Punks would publish their own music or sign with small independent labels, in hopes to combat what they saw as a money hungry music industry. The DIY ethic is still popular with punks.ideology's of punks

Ideology

Punk political ideologies are mostly concerned with individual freedom and anti-establishment views. Common punk viewpoints include individual liberty, anti-authoritarianism, a DIY ethic, non-conformity, anti-collectivism, anti-corporatism, anti-government, direct action and not "selling out".

Some groups and individuals that self-identify as being a part of punk subculture hold right-wing views. The belief that such views are opposed to the original ethos of the punk subculture, and its history, has led to internal conflicts and an active push against such views being considered part of punk subculture at all. Two examples of this are an incident during the 2016 American Music Awards, where the band Green Day chanted anti-conservative, anti-racist, and anti-fascist messages, and an incident at a show by the Dropkick Murphys, when bassist and singer Ken Casey, tackled an individual for giving a nazi-style salute and later stated that nazis are not welcome at a Dropkick Murphys show. Band member Tim Brennan later reaffirmed this sentiment. The song "Nazi Punks Fuck Off" by hardcore punk band Dead Kennedys has come to be considered an anti-nazi anthem.

VIV WESTWOOD

Rejecting the hippie ethos that was fashionable towards the end of the 1960s, Westwood and McLaren created clothes that referenced youth culture's recent past, selling rock'n'roll fashion in a shop unit at 430 King's Road in Chelsea. In 1974, the shop took on its most notorious identity: SEX, with Westwood and McLaren designing fetish wear that they sold to prostitutes, those with 'underground' sexual tastes, and young proto-punks brave enough to take a seriously edgy look out onto the street. The pair enjoyed shocking people, designing garments and shoes that referenced 'deviant' sexual practices, including rubber dresses and stilettos bristling with spikes.

How punk influenced me, because it influenced the world

My take on rebellion

Westwood inspired tights.

after watching a documentary on vivien westwood and the birth of the punk revolution i created some westwood inspired tights as a little spontaneous brainstorm, did not develop any further on the tights.

i used a pair of brand new white tights and put holes all in them, this is non conformist as if a regular pair of tights had a hole you would bin them as they were no good any more, but purposely putting holes in is quite rebellious in that aspect, i used sharpies to draw triggering symbols and words such as a swastikka and ‘punk fag’ .

crayon drawings

i used crayons to create these images as i thought it was a more rebellious medium and its created for kids so that is non conforming and it gives a rough diy finish look making it look slightly unfinished

i created a lesbian nun, this was a spur of the mind thought whats socially good and respected? a nun? whats the opposite of what a nun preaches, homo behavior. 

here i did a little barbie series drawing from observational on one and on another from mind and another from an image which i created by burning a barbie ehich is quite a rebellious act in a way. 

Collages

i decided to do some collages as its a way of just slapping ideas out in a visual format, my first one was using a fashion magazine and i realized this was the way to go so i printed some punk imagery and even used my own crayon drawings to create more collages.

photo shop

i wanted to mess with these collages more on a digital format so i put them in to photo shop to play with them and generate more ideas this was giving me a poster vibe which reminded me of punk posters.

 Final ideas

i used images from the new york trip to create a vision on photo shop, using a light of the american flag,sign posts, bins with posters on them.a clip art image of a chain and lock,street art and stickers i saw on poles in the street which is another form or street art which is quite rebellious as its not socially acceptable to vandalize and graffiti on public areas.

i took a few elements from the last board and included them in this vision board, i really wanted the main focus to be on the pipe that says “the rich killed nyc” i feel like it has a deep meaning behind it and it is quite rebellious as it reminded me of the punk rebellion in the uk as it was mostly lower class working people who used art, music and fashion to rebel against society and social constructs and actively non conform to the “rules” in a way. i also used a sticker that says jesus loves you and i crossed it out and wrote hate you over the loves you part as that is fitting to my rebellious visions.

in this board i again used “ the rich killed nyc” pipe as that’s my main surrounding element, i uses another pole with stickers on though you cant really tell what the stickers are, it just fits the aesthetic. i used a statue of liberty as she is known as a symbol of freedom, and along side it i used a photo of a photograph i saw in the modern art museum where this person had dyke tattooed on their neck which is a derogatory word to gay women, and that’s quite rebellious to take a bad word and own it by tattooing it on your body .

in this board i moved away from “the rich killed nyc” pipe as i felt i needed to come away from that one element for one board and to broaden my ideas. in this one i used a sky line image i took when on the ferry to liberty island, i changed the colour to black and white as the original colours of the image are quite blue and orangy, i used a sign post that says one way as it for some reason reminded me of like “one way to hell” or something and that there feels like there is no choice or individuality in the phrase “one way” . i used text over the sky line that says “the rotten apple” as new york city is known as the big apple and i thought, when i was there it did not remind me of a big fresh beautiful apple as the homeless people on the streets and the graffiti that has no artistic intent, so it was more of a rotten apple in a way. i used an image of the american flag i took on liberty island as i used an image of an american flag light, so i thought i could link back to that idea and use an actual flag, as its to represent freedom. i also used a art piece from the modern art gallery which was just a male mannequin wearing a bra which does not fit the social constrict of what men should wear there for its quite rebellious and opposite to the one way system. 

in my final board i included the american flag, a chain over it completely doing the opposite of what the flag means which is freedom, i used the bun that says don’t be afraid of anyone with an edited red paint drip on it which kind of looks like blood, i used text that says “ the rich killed nyc” as i loved that phrase bit i over used the pole in the other boards and i liked that my main message is that the rich killed nyc, i used an image of my dr martens that i took while my feet were up against a pole as i sat on a tube, showing anti social behavior basically which is stereo typically rebellious,and also dr martens were quite fashionable in the uk punk rebellion so i’m hinting to my idea that was inspired by the uk punk rebellion, and finally i have a set of traffic lights which are about order and control, the light is also on red which signifies danger, and the word stop which fits to my idea.

[alien-rainbow]

The Princes Of The North and South (2/3)

Solangelo fic, Royalty AU, kinda sad ending, kinda not, Will is betrothed to Bianca 

Word Count: 1,925

Will woke early the next morning to someone ripping open the curtains in his room. Will covered his hand with his arm and groaned not expecting the queen to be the one to wake him.  

"Wake up William," Kalliope scolded turning around to glare at her husband's son. "You will bathe, get dressed in the clothes that will be laid out for you, and meet your siblings and me in the throne room within the hour," with that the queen turned quickly and strode out of the room. Will sighed and pulled himself from the bed and into one of the rooms that branched off from the main area witch held his bed and a large wardrobe. Will pulled off the nightgown and slipped into the warm rose-scented water and took a deep breath. The queen scolded him when he scented his baths but the servants had noticed that he loved the sweet sents. Thought they made an effort to sip something in when the queen wasn't watching.

"Thank you," Will said hoping that whoever's idea it was was still in the room.

"Your welcome," someone responded, Will turned to see Lou Ellen Blackstone smiling down at his as she wiped her wet hands on the edge of her apron. She then grabbed a pitch of warmed water and walked over to Will and poured it over his hair then began to rub something into massaging his scalp. Will felt his shoulders relax in part because of the bath and because of Lou's soft humming. Will could not sing to save his life and he knew it. But he could, Will though thinking again of the boy from ten years ago. He sang like an angel, Will remembered. 

Will ran through the huge castle, he and the raven-haired boy had run off after being scolded by one of the older kids. They were skipping through the rooms gazing at all shinny rooms. Then they came to a small room that was soaked in moonlight that was coming in through a huge window. A piano sat in the middle of the room with a single candle on a stand next to it sending eerie shadows across the room. Will's father had tried to teach him to play but Will wasn't any good. Will turned to leave when the boy grabbed him and pulled him towards the piano. 

"I can play you something!" The boy said excitedly as he let go of Wills's hand and sat down on the bench. "I only know a little bit of it though," the boy looked away sheepishly. 

"I bet you're amazing!" Will said anyone who could play the piano was amazing compared to him.

"It's my mama and sister's song. Mama sang it to -------- and ------- and mama both sing it to me when I can't fall asleep." the boy smiled brightly at will before placing his hands and the keys. He sings, looks, and plays like an angel! Will though as the boy began to play.

“Tu sei il mio soldatino    

la ragione per cui vivo 

Non ti scordar di mi

io veglieró su di te”

Will sat there stunded, the song was short but beautiful even if Will had no idea what it meant. Will heard his father call his name saying it was time to go. He looked back at the boy to see him frowning slightly. 

"Do you have to go?" the boy wined, 

"Yea... My dad doesn't like to ask twice," Will frowned, he had only spent a few hours with the boy but he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. "Well, I should go," Will said sadly and turned to leave only for the kid to run up to him and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. Will stood there stunned, his first kiss had been from this really pretty and perfect boy. Will was about to say something when he heard his dad call again. Instead of saying anything to the shorter boy, he placed a kiss on the boy's lips. Will could taste the sweet chocolate from the fountain on the boy's pink lips. By then they were both smiling like idiots, one because of the kisses and also because Will was being a rebel by making his dead wait. Will then turned and ran towards the sound of Apollo's voice while waving back at the boy. Wills smile didn't leave his face until they left the next afternoon, and little did Will know, the ravenett felt the same. 

Will couldn't remember the name of his sister, the meaning of the lyrics of anything of use. It annoyed him that the helpful information was the things he could not remember. Will was snapped back into reality when Lou dumped a small pitch of ice-cold water down his back. Will hissed and turned to glare at the girl though she didn't seem phased. Most people described him mad as a kitten bearing its claws and letting out an adorable high pitched meow. 

"You must get ready quickly today your highness," Lou said dryly, his mother would have been scandalized to see how Will was treated by her but Will had known her forever and was friends with the girl, though neither of them acted like it around others. Will stepped out of the bowl and as Lou wrapped a large towel around him. Will walked back into his bedroom and saw his outfit laid out on the bed. 

"It looks like someone murdered the sun," Lou said turning her head to the side to try and find an angle where the ridiculously gold outfit didn't burn your eyes. 

"Let's get this over with," Will said as he ruffled up his hair to dry it and began to slip into the gold garments with Lou's help. With the outfit on it didn't look as bad. Lou took a step back to regard him with careful eyes. 

"Cape," she said flicking up her finger then walked over to the large wardrobe and pulled out a black cape made from dark animal furs that contrasted well with the bright gold and yellow from the suit. "That's better," Lou said smiling at the prince. "Now it looks like you are the sun and not a murderer." Will laughed at the girl's bold but accurate statement. 

Lou opened the large wooden doors to allow Will to walk through them then she turned and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen while Will turned the opposite way towards the throne room. Six guards had been placed outside his door the night before, four of them flowed him while the other two stayed stationed at the door. Will walked through the cold halls that hadn't yet had the time to be warmed by the sun that streamed in through the windows, the walls were speckled with intricate paintings of the royal members of the family from past years, landscapes, and other beautiful pieces of art.

Two guards outside of the throne room open the large wooden doors on the side of the throne room, to allow Will through. Two of the guards positioned themselves outside of the room while two followed him into the room. Luckily Cecil was always one of the guards who would follow him into rooms. The doors slammed shut behind him sending a draft of air at Will messing up his hair, which, in turn, made the frown on the queen's face deepen. She took a watch out of the folds of her skirts and frowned even deeper when she realized that he wasn't late meaning that she couldn't reprimand him. After gazing at him with loathing for a few beats she turned away from him and stared at the door where their guests would be entring any minute. 

Will then walked to stand on the side of the smaller throne that the queen sat on. She had left Apollo's throne empty saying that she would never take his place. Though she hated Will, she had loved his father with all of her body, heart, and soul. Wills stood alone on the left while his siblings lined up by age stood on the other side of the queen. Eriopis looked extremely uncomfortable at being placed the closest to the queen. Will made eye contact with his sister over his mother's head and gave her a small reassuring smile. Eriopis couldn't help but smile back at her younger brother. Will's happiness had always been contagious. 

The two eldest siblings head snapped back to attention when the words opened and a line of guards filed into the room. They had on all black armor compared to the grays and golds of Papadopoulos. They also all had on wool and fur clocks covered with snow but they didn't seem to be at all bothered by the cold. The guards open ranks to reveal the King and Queen of Olympus. King Hades had a stern and clod looking face that would make anyone start shaking in their boots while his wife queen Persephone, the Prinses step-mother, was gentle and smooth but had been known to be forced to recond with if made angry. The father looked incredibly familiar though he couldn't finger out where he had seen him before. 

"Welcome to Papadopoulos," Kalliope said sanding up and inclining her head to the rulers of Olympus. Will and his siblings followed her lead by bowing shallowly. Kalliope smiled kindly at them, hiding the hatred that was bubbling below the surface. Though judging by the look on Hades's face, he could see right through her and made it quite clear he wasn't pleased. Queen Persephone eased the tension by thanking Kalliope for her kindness and they made small talk and tried to ignore the fact that the princess was not here yet. King Hades cut through the small talk and answered the question they had all been thinking.  

"Bianca and Nico will be here shortly, I hope you don't mind that we have brought my son with us?" Nico, Will thought, that name also sounded extraordinarily familiar. King Hades's comment wasn't exactly a question and Kalliope was in shock at the statement. The queen didn't like things being changed last minute. 

"No, of course not your majesty," Will said attempting to clear the air that was thick with tension. Just as he said that the doors opened and two people walked in. The princess had olive skin and dark brown eyes that sparkled. Her long dark brown hair fell to her waist. She had on a silver dress and had a tiara nestled into her hair. She was definitely pretty but her brother made Will's jaw drop and his brain short circuit. He was paler than his sister and his hair was so much darker than hers it appeared black. It was brushed back and seemed to be held in place with lots of gel. He had on a form-fitting charcoal suit and a black wool cape hung over one shoulder. He had the same look like his father though instead of staring at the queen, he was staring directly at him. Will's breath caught as he realized who the boy was, at the same the ravenett's eyes widened and his eyebrows shoot up. 

"Hi, I'm Nico!" the smaller boy said smiling brightly and sticking out his hand. "I'm here with my big sister Bianca, my mama and my papa. We're from Olympus, well technically we live in the big city, Pluto! Who are you?"

(Song link)

[shawmaginess-blog]

— forever, and always | t.h

tom holland x reader

genre: fluff, heavy angst

requested: no

send your requests at my messages. 

word count: 3.3k

the first time they met, it was a clear sunny day. she was browsing the small library section of the cafe, which is half empty apart from students who are either studying last minute, doing their projects or sleeping. no one paid attention as the door opened, the bell ringing along with it. she reached up the top shelf, which was double her size and she curses her genetics for being short. she huffed, took a step back and placed her hand on her hips. she glared at the book she wanted, then decided to try again, this time using the little shelves to give herself a little leverage. it did not help, causing her to slip and lost her grip. time suddenly slowed down, her life flashing before her eyes as she closed them, preparing for her to hit the ground. but she never did, instead feeling a hand gripping her waist tightly, prepping her back up to her feet. she turned around to take a good look at the person who saved her, instead she came face to face with a strong chest. 

she looked up slowly, aware of his hands still resting against her waist as her hands stays on his chest. she tilted her head up even more to have a pair of brown eyes staring at her with an amused look, a smirk on his lips. she blushed deeply, pushing away gently from him as she fixed herself. 

“thank you,” she said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. he let out a soft chuckle, the sound is like music to her ears. he ran a hand through his hair, brushing the locks away. 

“you’re welcome,” he replied. 

that had been five years ago, when his acting career peaked due to the spiderman film. he had sought refuge at the cafe after running away from his fans, and he had seen her slip and lost her grip. he rushed quickly to her, helping her up and the rest was history. she didn’t recognize him, and maybe that was the reason he felt at ease around her the first time they met. she was a complete opposite to him, and they lived a very different world. he lived in a place where millions and billions of people watches his every move while the only thing she had to worry about are midterms, finals and projects. they were different but similar in some ways, making them perfect for each other. she was an arts major, her interests consists of theatre, ballet, history and arts. being with her made him feel at peace, like he could let go of everything but still be grounded with himself. she taught him histories about almost everything and he could never, ever get bored of it. she would use him as her model for her arts projects and they would practice their lines for upcoming movies for him, and upcoming broadway shows for her. they did everything together and hid everything from the world. and it saddens him that he couldn’t brag about this amazing girl because every girl he would be link to, some of his fans, the ones who weren’t supportive, would either criticize her, point out her flaws. he couldn’t have that happening because she was the light in his darkness. 

he also respects her decision to keep their relationship hidden, that they would reveal when she’s at the point of her life where everything is put together. she wanted to graduate with her masters, build her career at her own pace. she wanted privacy and he respects that. 

he watches her sat on the floor, criss cross applesauce with the canvas in front of her; her hair that had been tied up in a bun just a few hours ago is now falling apart, strays of hair everywhere with her face and arms covered with different colours of paint. fly me to the moon plays softly in the background, making everything perfect for him. she was perfect. he took out his polaroid and took a picture of her, chuckling as she furrowed her brows into a frown, tongue sticking out in concentration. if he could describe her in one word, it would be that she’s heaven. 

they had been together for five years and everyday felt like an adventure. they say the honeymoon phase dies down at early stages of the relationship but they managed to find ways to keep the fire going. even when he’s away, which is a lot of times, for his work, they still manage to surprise each other. tom couldn’t help but want to let the world know how lucky he is to have someone like her. he placed the polaroid down on the table and waited for the film to develop before walking at the small corner of their apartment. the walls were filled with pictures of them together, notes and momentums of their dates, their love for each other. he placed the film at the center, grabbing a sharpie to write something down on it before walking over to her. he bent down on her level, positioning himself behind her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. she let out a small smile, leaning against his back as she continues to paint the canvas. 

“i love you,” he whispered softly, burying his face against her shoulder blade. she stopped what she was doing and smiled to herself, tilting her head as she gave a kiss on top of his head. she could listen to him say that three letter word over and over again and she would never get tired of hearing it. 

“forever and always,” she replied, placing her paintbrush down at the small bucket as she intertwines her hand on his. the two of them stayed in that position, not caring if their backs hurt as long as they stay wrapped in each other’s arms. 

it was their sixth year anniversary that she realized she wanted to be a part of his world. she had finished her masters with an internship at an arts academy, all she needed to do is walk across the stage to seal the deal. and the first thing that came to her mind is for him to be there with her to share the moment. but in order for him to do that, he would have to tell his management, and reveal his relationship with her in public. not just that but she also wants to get to know his friends, his coworkers and his fans. she wants to show him, through a different way, that she loves and supports him. she was finally ready. 

when he came home from work, she was very excited and giddy, causing him to look at her with curiosity. he could tell that she wanted to tell him something by the hop on her feet, the twinkle in her eyes and the excited grin she had on throughout dinner. 

“what is it, love?” he asked, chuckling as she tried to look at him with a poker face. she was truly horrible at hiding her emotions when she’s excited and all over the place.

“what do you mean?” she asked, shrugging as she continued to eat her food. he shook his head and took her hand in his. she sighed, took a deep breath before finally telling him. 

“i want to go public. i want everyone to know about us, and i want to be able to say that the tom holland is my boyfriend and i want you to be there when i walk across the stage because you have been so supportive of me ever since we met and this is the thank you that i could think of giving you. i just fucking love you, holland” 

the two of them were quiet, with tom processing what she had told him. there’s millions and billions of things that ran through his thoughts but the only one he could think of basically involves him talking about her in every interview he would get. he grinned widely, placing his fork down as he walked over to her side. 

“seriously? you’re not joking with me?” he asked, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. she told him she was serious, placing a kiss on his lips before she was picked up and spun around the room. she let out a small squeal, arms and legs wrapping around him as she holds onto him tightly. she buried her face against the crook of her neck, tearing up as he told her countless of times how much he loves her. she doesn’t know how she could be lucky to have someone like him by his side. 

“you’re my everything,” she whispered to him softly, her hands running through his hair as she held onto him tightly. he chuckled and rubbed circles against her back. if home is a certain place, then she was his. 

when the news of their relationship hit the media, the whole world was in shock. his fans were very supportive, with very few against it. they could tell how happy they were and that’s all they ever wanted. his friends congratulated the two, and his management had a positive respond with it. the result were what they hoped for and it felt like a weight on their shoulder had been lifted. she was scared, nervous and excited about what the future holds for them now that their relationship is out in public. she was just glad that she was able to build a name and career for herself instead of just being called tom holland’s girlfriend. 

but every up has its downfall. it was subtle at first, headaches and migraines that would go away with a simple take of pain relief pills. then the seizures and fainting came, causing them to think that it was something else. they made a plan to go to the doctors in one day, but the days turned into weeks until they completely forgot about it because they were both busy with work and the pills she would take would help her. then her memory would become foggy in certain days, along with constant fatigue and loss of hair. 

when the news broke that she has cancer, it shook their whole world apart. he saw the light slowly burning out of her; the eyes that used to twinkle like they were stars now stare ahead with clouded emotions. it pains him to see the passion slowly die inside her and he wishes he could turn back time or at least take the pain away from her. but he had to stay strong for her, for both of them. she tried her best to act like everything was okay, that every single day could be their last. it was already too late for them to cure her and she chose not to go through chemotherapy, enduring the pain instead. the doctor told them that she has at least six months to one year left of her. 

during this time, he was called to film for the second spiderman film. he was away most of the time and it ached his heart to not be there for her. he would spend most of his breaks talking to her, assuring himself that she was still with him. the only thing keeping him going was her words of encouragement and the moment the final scene were filmed and finalized, he booked the first flight home, running into her arms and hugging her tightly, burying his face at the crook of her neck as he inhales her familiar scent. she would hold back her tears, holding him as he mumbled i love you’s to her. 

the day he received the news, was the premiere of spiderman far from home. he was wrapping up his interview with jake, talking about her most of the time. his phone rang, her name flashing on the screen and his heart flipped. he answered it, hoping to hear her voice. 

“tom,” but it wasn’t, it was her aunt and he knew before she could even finish her sentence. his legs gave out, completely falling to the ground as he processed the news.

“she just suddenly fainted, we rushed her to the hospital and they tried their very best tom, they really did but she-,”

her aunt was a sobbing mess, but he couldn’t hear anything and he forgot how to breath. the staff rushed over to him, with jake trying to get his attention but all he could think about was her. 

her smile.

her laugh. 

her eyes. 

her scent. 

her. 

his manager helped him up, and he couldn’t remember the drive toward the hospital but he remembered rushing out of the car and heading inside. he stopped by the door, his hands shaking, his vision blurry as he opened the door. the room looked dark, cold, empty, describing exactly what he was feeling. she lay on the cold metal table, sheet over her and all he could think of is wanting to hear her voice again. just, at least one more time. 

he walked over to her, hands shaking as he pulled the sheets down. his heart shattered to pieces, his sobs echoing the empty walls of the morgue as he let an agonizing scream, wrapping his arms around her hoping, praying to wake up from this nightmare. that she would wrap her arms around him again, run her hand through his hair as he tells her about his day. he should have stayed home, should have been there for her. 

reality did not sink in until her funeral, until he walked into their room with her side of the bed left untouched. he could still smell her scent from her pillow and he reached over to pick up the picture frame of them together. it was her graduation day; he had lifted her up bridal style with one of her arms wrapped around his neck for support, the other holding onto her cap while they share a kiss. he had been so proud of her, watching her walk across the stage and watching her deliver her message to her graduating year. he bit his bottom lip, his eyes stings from all the crying he had done the entire week before placing the picture frame back down. tom stood up and walked over to their shared closet and opened it. seeing her clothes sent another wave of sadness in him, his eyes travelling to the top of the drawer. he noticed the envelope that hadn’t been there when they were together. he took it, walking to the bed and taking a seat at the floor. the envelope contained a cd along with another paper with it. 

to my dearest tom. my everything, my forever. 

were written on the envelope and he opened the paper, recognizing her writing right away. 

tom, 

where do i start? i guess i’ll just let my feelings and my pen decide for that. am i scared? yes, i am. but i know i have you with me, and that makes me feel better. my time may be up, but it’s not for yours. and i want you to remember that when you go through dark times; when it seems like everything is falling apart. even though my journey with you is up, just know that i will be watching over you, that this is not a goodbye but a see you later. 

it may hurt now, but time will slowly make it hurt less. and just because it hurts less, does not mean that you’ve forgotten. it just shows that you are slowly moving forward and that is perfectly fine. 

i love you, forever and always. 

just when he thought he had cried everything out, a fresh tear slid down his cheeks. he read the letter over and over again, rocking back and forth as memories of them together flashes his mind. he was lost, completely lost. the cd fell on the floor, catching his attention. he wiped the tears from his cheeks before placing the cd to its slot, waiting for it to start. 

the video started with the two of them facing each other, with canvases in front of them as they draw each other. then he recognized more videos that they took together, memories that he didn’t know she documented. then everything went blank and he thought it was the end. 

her face appeared on the screen and his heart flipped, seeing her smiling widely at the camera. this was her worst days but he could see the glint and twinkle in her eyes as she sat in front of the camera. she had put a little makeup on but even without it, she still looked beautiful. 

“tom,” she started, causing his heart to beat a million times more its usual rate, just hearing her voice again. she let a soft smile, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear before taking a deep breath. her voice was like music to his ears.

“i know everything hurts right now, and i hope that this could help ease the pain just a little bit until you could tuck the cd away behind a box, forget about it and find it again with your family in the future. but for now, i just want to say that i love you so so much, and i want to thank you for giving me so much. you are my home, my everything and that will never change. you could have chosen to turn your back on me when things got rough but you stayed and helped me through everything. you give and you give and that’s what i love about you. you’re this ball of sunshine that could light up the whole room when you walk in and that’s why i fell for you,” she paused, wiping the tears that now trailed down her cheeks.

“you supported me, gave me love and cared for me and i want to thank you for that. and if i could do this all over again, i would. i would want to fall for you over and over again and maybe we’ll meet again in our next life. i know you told me that i’m your light into your darkness, but it's more the other way around. i love you tom, and that will never change. forever, and always,” she smiled and gave a kiss on the camera before turning it off. 

and he sat there, replaying the video over and over again just to hear her voice again. there was a soft knock on the door, and her aunt poked her head in, telling him that the ceremony will start soon. he nodded his head, stayed there to gather his composure before heading out to the church. 

“she was everything to me. she shaped me into the man that i am now. she taught me so much, and i just wish i was there when she passed away. but i know she wouldn’t want me beating myself over it. it hurts, not getting a bruise kind of way, but mind-numbing, paralyzing kind of pain. i was going to propose to her, tell her i want to spend my life taking care of her. but i guess i was too late. i just want one more day with her; to hug her, to kiss her, to tell her how much i love her. to hold her in my arms as i listen to her story, and to be held by her as she listens to mine. but i know that if i get another day, i would want it to become two days, then three until i wish it was just an infinite times with her. i miss her, every single day, every second, every minute. and she said it will get better but it hurts and i’m scared to go through without her. i’m scared of what the future holds. she was my everything, my angel, my light into my darkness,”

[mvnikin-blog]

alden ehrenreich + cis male + he/him.┊ ❛ ━ hey, is it just me or do you hear all i want by walk the moon playing in the distance ? oh, thats just manikin, a neutral good member of the LEAGUE OF HEROES. i suspect they might be brayden “ray” gray, a twenty-five year old bouncer at no angels nightclub with the ability of self-manipulative puppetry. according to my sources, he can be stoic, but also facetious which is probably why they remind everyone of the slightest falter of a practiced grin and freshly fallen cigarette ashes so much. anyway, a superhero or not, crystalline city is keeping a close eye on them! (logan, 18, est, she/her )

hey, howdy, hey  ! i’m logan, and this is my dude brayden gray. basically, he’s a former syndicate member who found the errors of his ways but doesn’t really know where to go now that he’s apparently a hero and working a somewhat normal job again. if you want to find out more, take a gander down below here. and, if you’re so inclined, send me a lil IM to plot ! i’ve been actually trying to find an excuse to play alden and this power so i’m kind of super excited right now.

POWER

SELF-MANIPULATIVE PUPPETRY the power to control the user's own motor functions regardless of what state their body is in. user can control their own body like a marionette, allowing them to move freely even if they possess injuries or ailments that would normally impede normal movement such as paralysis, broken limbs or dislocated joints. - superpower wiki

how i’m interpreting this is he can pick up anything just like that. ballet, football, martial arts... you name it and he can do it after a few hours of watching or listening to people do it. the problem is that around the age of 21/22, he had gotten an injury that cost him the use and feeling of his body below the neck until his power kicked in yet again. his once fluid and somewhat perfect movements began to look forced and jerky. he still can’t get to those natural movements down, but he has total control over his body so he can’t fight against his power anymore. he also can’t feel anything below his neck, so things like breaking his thumbs to get out of handcuffs and fighting got a whole lot easier after.

PERSONALITY

ray is a good kid. generally speaking, he tries his best to be a good person for his family and friends but sometimes he doesn’t know the best way to do it so he slides into situations most good people avoid because it’s all he can figure out.

he’s also a very, very, very closed off individual. that jelly jar you can’t open ? it’s him. not to say he’s not friendly with people (because that’s entirely the opposite of true), but he hates talking about himself and his issues. he’d rather die of a splinter than ask someone to take it out for him. instead of talking about real problems he makes jokes and changes the subject if it’s about him. if someone else needs help and they’re apart of his friend/family group, you better bet he’s there in minutes to help or to at least make them laugh. very heavy dad friend vibes because he basically was a dad for so long at so young.

honestly ? he hates fighting, but he attracts it like a light to moths... but, he’s also really good at it ? ever since he was 16 he had been working at bars and clubs as a bouncer because fighting just came easily to him and every time he got into one he hated it but it was what it was. and when he became a villain it kind of just was what it was. it was part of the trade off to him but don’t think for a second he didn’t have long nights trying to forget all the things he did.

he’s way more mature than a 25 year old should be. granted, he’s made mistakes and he seems like that one annoying kid singing offkey in a starbucks to make someone laugh, but he’s really not. he has wrinkles in places he shouldn’t and hands rougher than they should be, he’s seen the side of people that are typically very well hidden, and he’s skipped over the whole being a kid phase to grow up quick. so when he says “i understand,” he almost always genuinely means it.

BACKGROUND ( death, paralysis tw )

from the second ray was born, he laughed and it took a whole lot to make him finally cry. he had a mother who loved him, a father who couldn’t care any less, and a whole world waiting to take him in. when he got home, he was safely secured in his mother’s arms until the next year when he started walking and running around the house causing a little bit of chaos for his stay-at-home mother and his father who, after coming home from long days working, just went to bed and left his wife to deal with the energy he had.

just as he was starting out kindergarten, his family changed very rapidly. his baby brother, noah, was born and their father left the family for another woman the same month. his mother had to get a job and ray had no choice but to help take care of his brother while doing school and trying to continue being a kid at the same time.

his life started to become a pattern. he had school, some sort of free after school thing, walking home to his brother, cook dinner, start the coffee for his mother when she came back for her two hour nap, sleep, repeat. after he turned 16 however, when his brother was about 11, he made the decision to drop out of school and begin working in at a nightclub that gave him some slack for his age if they could pay him in cash. he agreed immediately and the extra income and time during the day helped out with the family a lot more than going to school would have helped him and it gave his brother a chance to not have to do the same.

a year into this brand new job, ray found out that the reason he was getting paid in cash wasn’t just so that he could work the long hours at his age and not have someone on payroll... it was instead because they weren’t just a club. they had an illegal business in the back that they wanted to protect as well. there they sold objects you wouldn’t want people to know you have like guns, drugs, high tech, and more... when he found this out they called him into the office and offered him a lot more money if he took care of security for the club and started going out with them on deals for safety. there was hesitation, but it came down to how much good he could do for his family when he told them yes. they were in too much debt and their house was on the verge of foreclosure for him to say no.

from there he continued to stay home to help his family and their debt, but he also spiraled into a lot more criminal acts. he started getting more involved in this organization and as he got older, he got more useful to them and more stuck in the cycle. he never stopped raising his brother, in fact he worked harder to make sure he was better than himself, but his time home became less and less. he didn’t know anything else to do so he kept with it for the next five years when he thought his brother had ran away.

the moment his mother called him freaking out, he quit working with these people and drove home as fast as he could. part of him worried it was the line of work he was in, but the reality was that it was a hard environment to live in and he figured he tried to run away. there was a few nights calling around and praying someone would know something before he decided to pack up his things, leave most of his savings to their mother, and look in the city in case he could find his brother or someone who could find him.

a few weeks into the investigation, his mother had come down to visit him in a ragtag little apartment and while the two were talking the building came down. nobody really knows what happened, but within seconds the building started to crumble and lives were lost... including his mother’s. on top of that, ray was severely injured and at the hospital he was told that his spine had been damaged and he wouldn’t be able to move below his neck. it was so much devastating news, but what made it worse was that something was off with what the doc said. when she left, he tried to scratch his nose and instead of realizing what she actually said and going “oh,” he actually did it. that’s when he knew that he had some sort of ability and he sort of freaked out. during that night, he left the hospital so he didn’t have to explain anything and then he sat down and tried to come up with some sort of plan to avoid thinking about his mother.

somehow his plans led to him meeting someone from this syndicate who promised him that they'd find his brother if he helped them out. he's done some bad things in his time to help out his family, so what would have made this different? he agreed with only a thimble of hesitation and put in the same work effort he had had oh so long ago.

after being with this organization of supervillains for so long, he lost hope that he'd fine his brother. he figured that if he hadn't found him in these three years that he'd never do so. his conscience began to weigh on him and when the first of the year came around, he took a chance to leave the organization and use his gift for good instead of being selfish and these past few months have been a trial period for him because who would trust a guy with his background ?

CONNECTIONS

the person who vouched for him to the league. maybe they knew him for a while and then found out who/what he was ? maybe they were the one he got into contact with when he wanted to change sides ? maybe they were fighting and suddenly he goes “i want to be good again” ? we can talk about this and figure it out because this is a biggie.

a genuine friend at the syndicate. someone who he still keeps in contact with despite now being on opposite sides. they get coffee together in secret, and just are good friends. maybe they’re both set in their paths and while he would like them to come with him, he’d rather them both to be friends... or maybe they want to change too ?

an ex because honestly ? an old s/o would really be sweet and there’s so many connections you could do with it.

i don’t know, more to come !

[cheeseeatingtrashmonster]

Gardens and Kisses

Lukadrien June day 21: Sneaky. Thanks @lukadrienjune

(Read more is just because it’s a bit long, totally sfw)

Read the whole month on AO3

"Did you know my dad likes gardening?"

During a break in band practice Adrien and Luka were sitting on Luka's bed looking at memes.

"I never would have suspected that, no," Luka said.

"He likes flowers that attract bees and butterflies."

"Why are you telling me this?" Luka asked.

"He's been in a gardening phase. When you come over tomorrow there's a high likelihood he'll want us to help garden."

"I can't garden in a suit."

"I think that's why he wants to," Adrien said. "He asked that you wear something more casual. Nathalie sent outfit suggestions or said, and I quote, 'Have Ms. Lavillant pick out his outfit, I have faith in her.'"

Luka laughed and called Rose into the room. Juleka came with her, and Ivan and Mylene found them all a minute later, making Luka try on his clothes for them. Band practice was never resumed. Ivan had the most helpful comments out of the group and Luka found himself with a pair of dark wash jeans, a red t-shirt, and one of Mr. Couffaine's dark blue button up shirts.

"I look like Adrien," Luka objected as he stepped into the bathroom to change back into the outfit he'd had on all day. "Was that the goal?"

"Yes," Rose and Ivan answered.

"I still think the shirt with the skulls would have been a nice touch," Juleka said.

"Luka, can I pick out what color your nails are for tomorrow?" Rose asked, looking through a shoe box full of nail polish bottles.

"I was going to take the nail polish off, actually," Luka said, squeezing on the bed between Adrien and Mylene.

"You can pick out a color for me," Adrien said.

Rose was delighted. Adrien ended up with a carrot orange. Mylene challenged Adrien to paint her nails, and he failed spectacularly. From there, everyone except Luka had their nails done.

"Argh, moments like this're how bands truly bond, and that makes yer music reach new heights!"

Anarka had her phone in her hand, taking pictures of the kids sitting all over the room with nail polish bottles spread out among them.

"Mom, really?" Luka said.

"Twas too cute to resist."

With that, "band practice" ended and the group split into couples that each headed in a different direction. Luka and Adrien walked to the halfway point between the Liberty and Adrien's house.

"So, is it bad I'm even more nervous for tomorrow than I was last time?" Luka asked.

"No, I understand," Adrien said. "I'm nervous, too. But he wouldn't be setting this up if he already planned on disapproving of you, so that's a better shot than I ever thought I'd have with my father approving of me dating anyone."

With a quick squeeze to their joined hands, they separated and went home to worry alone.

The next afternoon, Luka showed up exactly three minutes early and rang the bell at the front gate.

"Come in, Mr. Couffaine," Nathalie's disembodied voice said as the gates buzzed open.

"Luka! Over here!"

Luka walked around the side of the house towards Adrien who peeked around the corner. He was smiling, and it was genuine, but the tightness around his eyes showed that Adrien was just as nervous as he had been the day before. Adrien led him to his father, who was kneeling on a foam pad to work on planting something leafy from little pots.

"Hello, Mr. Agreste."

Gabriel looked up and nodded. "Hello, Luka."

"So, we're gardening?"

"For a little while, until lunch is prepared. Have you gardened before?"

"I live on a boat and my mom has killed every house plant that has ever been within ten feet of her." He sat on the ground next to the line of pots. "But I'm sure I can learn. How can I help?"

Luka proved himself a half-decent gardener, and Adrien proved that the sight of Luka concentrating on treating small plants with care could distract him easily. Not much was said beyond Gabriel instructing the boys, and the peace and sunshine and earth helped them all relax.

"Sir, lunch is ready."

After they had cleaned up, Gabriel settled at the head of the large dining room table with Adrien on his right and Luka on his left.

And then the questions started.

"What are your plans after high school?"

"I'm not sure yet," Luka said.

"Do you plan to formally pursue music, or are garage bands the extent of your ambitions?"

"Father, he's-"

"I did not ask you, Adrien," Gabriel said, voice and face neutral. "We are here so I may learn more of Mr. Couffaine, get to know him beyond the report Nathalie wrote up for me."

"Nathalie wrote a report on Luka?"

"I asked her to for all your friends." Gabriel returned his attention to Luka. "I don't believe you answered my question."

"I don't know if I want to pursue music. I'm still trying to experience as many things as I can so I can know what kinds of things I like best."

"But you don't have much time left in high school."

It wasn't a question, but Luka responded, "Not a lot, but I still have time."

Gabriel made a noncommittal noise and returned to his meal for a minute. Adrien brought up the newest public art exhibit he had seen as a way to cover the silence. Luka lagged behind in his answers and Adrien could see how drained he already felt.

"Do you plan to stay local for university, Luka?"

There was a long moment of silence. Luka looked confused for a moment before answering. "If I go to university, I'm keeping my options open. I wouldn't rule a place in or out based on location."

"How serious are you about having a relationship with my son?" Gabriel asked.

Adrien was worried if he tried to swallow the mouthful of food he had he would choke.

"Very serious." Luka looked at Adrien as he said it, and there was no hesitation.

"But you plan to leave for university?"

"I don't have any plans yet," Luka said. "When the time comes, Adrien and I can decide together what will and won't work for us."

"That time is sooner than you seem to realize," Gabriel said. "You really don't have any plans for the future? No goals, nothing definitive in your life?"

"I don't... I don't see why there needs to be," Luka said. "I don't see what's wrong with focusing on now."

"Without goals to guide your actions now, how can you possibly prioritize?"

Adrien did choke on that mouthful then, and only 20% to distract his father from his attack.

"Adrien, what are you doing?" Gabriel asked, sliding his son's glass a little closer to his hand.

"Sorry," Adrien gasped before taking a sip of water. "But Father, didn't you decide on fashion when you were already in university working towards an economics degree?"

Luka watched Adrien steer the conversation for the rest of the meal. It was an art form, and it broke Luka's heart that Adrien knew every specific question to derail his father's train of thought back to himself. Either way, Luka got away with only three more questions the entire meal.

"Luka needs to be home in the next half hour," Adrien said as the plates were being cleared. "Would it be okay for me to show him an art project I've been working on for school?"

"Alright," Gabriel said. He looked like he was about to say more, so Adrien ran around the table to grab Luka's wrist and all but yank him to his feet.

"Thanks for lunch, Father."

"Thank you," Luka repeated, barely above a whisper. "If I don't see you before I leave, it was nice getting to garden with you today, sir."

"That was quite pleasant. Have a nice afternoon, Luka."

Adrien didn't let up his grip on Luka's wrist until they were in his room with the door closed.

"I know you don't have to be home in half an hour," Adrien said. "But you looked like you needed to get out of there."

Luka sank onto the couch and leaned his head against its back. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," Adrien said, sitting on the opposite end of the couch as if he was afraid to touch Luka. "I'm sorry he gets like that. I had hoped it wouldn't be this bad."

"The questions themselves weren't awful," Luka said, rolling his head towards Adrien. "Feeling everything exhausts me. And for some reason, your family's feelings are really easy to feel." He sighed. "It makes me tired and slow and sometimes I don't react right." He rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling before closing his eyes. "Will you mind if I go home when that half hour is up?"

Adrien realized he should have expected Luka to want to leave after that meal, but a small part of himself felt like Luka was leaving him. He pushed it down and shook his head. "Of course not. You're tired. And I have no idea how to help with this whole... feelings, music... thing using your energy up."

Luka reached over and placed his hand on Adrien's knee. "Neither do I."

Adrien placed his hand over Luka's, watching his face to see if it was okay. They sat like this in silence until the half hour had passed.

"Want me to walk you home?" Adrien asked.

"No," Luka said. "I'm sure your dad wants to talk to you."

Adrien walked Luka to the gate and gave him a hug.

"I'm sorry," Adrien said. He wasn't sure for what he was apologizing, but he felt like he had to say it.

"I'm sorry," Luka said, hugging back just as tight. "Text me later?" He didn't add, "and let me know how your dad ruled on our relationship," but they both felt the words.

Adrien agreed and they parted. Adrien couldn't bring himself to watch Luka walk away, so he went back in the house. Nathalie didn't even get a full word out to tell Adrien to go to his father's office. Adrien was already headed there.

"Yes, Father?"

"I don't approve."

Resignation hit first. Sadness and anger second.

"I'm sure you were both aware of that. You were raised to be productive, successful. Mr. Couffaine does not share these values, and dissonant values in a couple can never lead to a happy relationship. His family is too different from ours. Your mother would..." Gabriel took a breath before continuing. "Your mother would never have wanted that for you."

Adrien did not say, "It's unfair of you to speak for mom." He did not say, "You and mom disagreed on almost everything." He did not say, "Productivity and success are your values, not mine." He did not say, "Luka is good and kind and supportive and peaceful. Those are values we share."

He said, "Please."

Gabriel looked at his son. He wasn't begging, he wasn't fighting, he wasn't rebelling or misbehaving. He was... sad. Without hope. But he had asked anyway.

"I will..." Gabriel wasn't sure why he was doing this. "I will allow you a relationship with him. Within guidelines with strict consequences."

Gabriel watched the slow progression of the news through his son. Hearing the words had Adrien dutifully nodding. Registering them made his eyebrows pull together and his eyes squint. They then widened and his mouth pulled into soundless shapes for a second. He took a quick breath and asked, "You're saying I can date him?"

"I don't want you sneaking around behind my back," Gabriel said. He wondered if it sounded like as much of a lie to Adrien as it did to himself. "If you cannot understand why this is a mistake without living through it, then the best course of action is to allow you to try and see for yourself in a way that will cause the least damage to you in the long run. I still have many reservations, but it seems this is what must happen."

"I can ask him out? Ask him to be my boyfriend? Take him to the movies and the arcade and hold his hand and tell people that I like him?"

"There will be limits placed on your relationship, but most of that will be fine."

"This can really happen?"

Gabriel sighed. Adrien wasn't going to hear any of his warnings now. "Yes. You may go tell him now, if you like."

Adrien beamed. "Thank you, Father!" He had to restrain himself from running to the door, but there was no stopping the bounce in his step.

"Adrien?"

"Yes, Father?"

"He will either change you or disappoint you."

Adrien's smile only widened. "We'll change together."

Before Gabriel could say another word, Adrien was out the door. He blew past Nathalie and out to the yard. He fumbled with the gate access code a few times before he got it open and ran the streets of Paris (as himself, but the feeling was similar) until he reached the dock.

"Luka!"

Adrien was yelling before he even spotted the boat. He didn't care, he wanted the whole world to know that he really, really liked Luka Couffaine and wanted to spend as much time with him as Luka could stand.

"Luka!"

He found the Liberty and saw that there was no way aboard at the moment. He had a mad wish that Luka lived in a house and he could throw pebbles at his window, but he brushed it aside.

"Luka, my dad said yes!"

Juleka came on deck first, her arms crossed and her usually rounded shoulders back.

"Adrien, Luka came back more tired than I've seen him after our biggest shows, and he said lunch was just you and your dad. What did you do?"

"It wasn't me," he said, trying not to bounce on the balls of his feet. "Or, I hope it wasn't. But it's over now, that part, and I have permission- not that I would have stopped if I didn't have it, he was right about that- and I need to see him, Juleka, please?"

"He fell asleep right after telling me what happened," Juleka said. "He didn't even move to his own room, he fell asleep in the chair in my room."

"I'm sorry," Adrien said. He wanted to feel bad, but he had gotten a yes, he didn't have to hide how much he liked Luka any more. "Please let me on board?"

"Adrien, you can't hurt him," Juleka said. "He looks calm and acts like he understands everything, but he breaks just like everyone else. He's tired and crabby and I just want to protect him."

"Juleka, I will do everything in my power to keep my father from exhausting him ever again," Adrien said. "But please let us talk. Please?"

"You are so loud."

Luka stuck his head around the doorway to see Adrien standing on the dock and Juleka looking like she would like to slap Adrien and then cry.

"He said I could ask you out, I don't have to pretend anymore, please let me in. Please?"

Luka gave Juleka a look and the two of them set up access to the boat. Adrien bounded on board and wrapped Luka in a hug.

"Disgusting," Juleka muttered as she went back downstairs.

"Will you go out with me?" Adrien asked, keeping his arms around Luka but pulling back to take in his bedhead and how his eyeliner had smudged on one eye. He memorized the details of the face before him as Luka blinked at him, trying to catch up.

"You're asking me out?"

"Luka, I like you. Romantically. Please go on a date with me on Wednesday after school. I haven't planned what we'll do yet, but it's my first free afternoon this week."

"Wow," Luka said, letting his fingers fiddle with the back of Adrien's popped collar. "You aren't ambiguous when you ask someone out. Would have been nice to know that before the coffee not-date incident."

Adrien shook his head hard, grinning harder. "No. If you had known, you wouldn't have asked me if it was a date, and I never would have thought about all the ways it pretty much was a date, and Pl- uh, a friend wouldn't have asked me if I was sure I didn't want it to be a date." Adrien couldn't believe he had almost slipped and said Plagg's name. Being excited was fine. Blowing his secret identity before he was even officially dating Luka was not.

"That's how you figured it out?" Luka smiled at him.

"It doesn't matter," Adrien said. "Will you go out with me? Do you want to? Will you, please?"

Luka kissed him. His hands slid up into Adrien's hair, finally letting himself feel that Adrien's hair was just as soft as it looked. Adrien kissed him back, tightening his grip around Luka's middle and grabbing a fistful of his shirt in the process.

"Encouraging," Adrien said when they pulled away just enough to catch their breath. "But I'd like to hear you say it."

Luka rested his forehead against Adrien's. "I would love to go on a date with you."

Adrien pulled him back in to kiss him again. He all but sighed as the finger's on Luka's one hand slid through his hair and scratched at his scalp with a light touch as the other hand slid down his back to pull him closer.

"I don't have to sneak around," Adrien said a few minutes later, resting his forehead on Luka's shoulder. "I don't have to pretend or minimize or... I don't know. But this... this is right." He pulled back to look at Luka, who was grinning. "This is right, and I can feel it."

"I can, too," Luka said.

They found a corner of the deck in the sun and sat talking and kissing for as long as they could. Nathalie eventually showed up with the car and Adrien had to go.

"I'll still text you tonight," Adrien said.

"You better," Luka said.

Nathalie didn't say a word on the ride home. She just let Adrien stare out the window and smile.

[amostexcellentblog]

IYO, which Golden Age stars had the most interesting "will make degrading cameo for food" phases?

Sorry this is so late, but whoa boy that’s a loaded question. Honestly, a lot of silent and classic Hollywood stars had money troubles in their later years because residuals weren’t really a thing until the 50s. Before the television market nobody thought there was a way to consistently make money on old movies so everyone was content to be paid upfront. Then add on a lot of stars grew accustomed to lavish lifestyles and never learned responsible spending and most of them had some degree of financial difficulties after their careers declined. Some of them had a sense of humor about it, for others it was humiliating and there can be a vague sense of exploitation about the whole thing that makes some fans reluctant to talk about these periods.

We should probably begin with Orson Welles, who made what was/is considered the greatest movie of all time, and yet had to take some pretty demeaning work to pay the bills. Like, he really did do a frozen peas commercial. That’s not something the writers of The Critic made up. It exists, it’s on youtube!

Bette Davis famously placed an ad in Variety asking for work when parts dried up. She spent most of the 60s starring in horror movies of declining quality, primarily because she needed money to support he family, but also because she was desperate to work. By the 70s though the Hag Horror fad had passed and she became even more desperate. A 1971 film Bunny O'Hare had her playing an elderly woman who dresses up as a hippie to rob banks on a motorcyle, it was so bad she sued the studio claiming it had damaged her future employment prospects. During this time she also filmed 4 sitcom pilots, and not good ones either. they were for Aaron Spelling, the man behind “Jiggle-TV” (although Davis herself did not jiggle, she still had some pride). The tv show Feud treated this as a sort of tragic time where the woman who once sued Jack Warner for better scripts was so desperate for work she stopped caring about quality. I look at it more as Davis realized that no matter how much dreck she did the public would always consider her a Hollywood Legend, so she was free to stop worrying about her image and just take whatever paid work she could get while playing the movie queen in interviews. 

Another low point was the Disney-sequel Return From Witch Mountain in 1978 where she and Christopher Lee (who took the part just to work with her) played the villains intent on using mind control devices on two super-powered alien kids. To say Davis’s character was as flat as cardboard is an insult to cardboard. She finally got a decent script in the 1980s with The Whales of August opposite Lillian Gish, so she was able to remind everyone how good she could be a few years before her death. Not every star would be so lucky.

Joan Crawford, who must be discussed alongside Davis by Hollywood law, has become, along with Welles, the poster-child for late career humiliation. Like Davis, Crawford spent the 60s doing low budget horror shlock, but somehow her movies always seemed shlockier. She teamed up with William Castle twice, for his Strait-Jacket he let her act like the movie queen she’d once been and she took full advantage. She demanded a limo to drive her to set each day, a role be given to a vice-president of Pepsi (she was on the board) and refused to let him be fired even when it became obvious he couldn’t remember his lines. She insisted on portraying her character as in her 40s despite turning 60 the year it came out, and also played the character as a 20-something in flashbacks. The air conditioning on set was cranked obscenely high because she believed cold air kept her skin from wrinkling.

In 1968 Crawford guest starred on The Lucy Show as a version of herself who liked being out of the public eye (Ha!). Lucille Ball by this point was a terror to work with and she bullied Crawford relentlessly over everything from her dancing to her drinking (which of course just made Crawford drink more). Later that year her daughter Christina was hospitalized, meaning she wouldn’t be able to film her scenes for the daytime soap opera she was in. Crawford, 64 years old, convinced the producers to let her fill in. And they said yes, so for four whole episodes Crawford appeared as a 24 year old girl. And on top of that, she was so drunk she could barely remember her lines. A year later Crawford had what I think is her most interesting TV role. For Rod Serling’s Night Gallery she played a ruthless, blind heiress who will stop at nothing to be able to see. It’s a standard Serling morality play right down to the ironic twist. What so fascinates me is that it marked the professional debut of one Steven Spielberg, although by his own admission he shot the thing like a European art film and had it taken away in editing so it could be re-worked into something presentable on network TV. So you have Crawford, who started her career in the silent era, came to embody the studio system, and remained a movie star into the 1960s, being directed by Spielberg, one of the key directors of the New Hollywood era who went on to create the era of the blockbuster tentpole we live in today. It’s such a fascinating meeting in the middle moment of the woman who ebodied the first half of Hollywood’s history, and the man who embodied its second half.

From there she went on to her final film, 1970′s Trog. She played a scientist investigating a ape-cave man hybrid believed to be the missing link. She was so drunk she had to use cue-cards to read her lines. The movie was so low-budget she had to wear her own clothes and change in an old van. Roger Ebert once said that the difference between Crawford and Davis was that Crawford would agree to make Trog. He wasn’t wrong. She made a handful of TV appearances after that, but then the tabloids published some unflattering pap photos. In the 1930s when she’d been the most beautiful woman in Hollywood she famously told an interviewer “I never go out of my house unless I look like Joan Crawford the movie star, if people want the girl next door they can go next door.” Decades later she lived up to her words, convinced she could no longer look like the glamorous movie queen she cancelled her public appearances and spent the last years of her life in Norma Desmond-like isolation. She died in her New York apartment in 1977 with only her maid and a loyal fan by her side.

This is getting long, but I have to mention Aldo Ray, a big macho man action hero of the 1950s who made a porno in 1979 and spent the 1980s working mostly with cult exploitation filmmaker Fred Olen Ray (no relation). Ray Milland was a hunky leading man in the 40s, spent the 1970s alternating between genuine A-list hits like Love Story and shlock like Frogs and The Thing With Two Heads where he played a racist whose head is grafted onto a black man. Yeah:

Bela Lugosi’s fall from grace has been much covered. He had a huge hit with Dracula but feuded with the studio and soon found himself confined to B-level shlock, eventually finding himself a member of Ed Wood’s stock company. Fan still debate if Wood was exploiting him or helping him. Boris Karloff fared better. He made plenty of low budget dreck for Roger Corman, but he also endeared himself to younger audiences, most notably in How the Grinch Stole Christmas and went out on a high note with Peter Bogdanovich’s directorial debut Targets.

Lastly, we must speak of Veronica Lake. She was a glamour queen of the 40s, famous for her hair style where her long blonde locks were styled to cover one eye, studio publicists dubber her “The Peek-a-Boo Girl.” She made one genuine 4-star must-see classic, Preston Sturges’s Sullivan’s Travels, and some well regarded noirs and comedies, but she was washed up by the 1950s. She was discovered working a a waitress in the 1960s and subsequently told her story on the talk show circuit and later in an autobiography. She decided to use the money she’d earned from various public appearances to produce a comeback vehicle. For some reason, perhaps known only to her, she decided the best movie to relaunch her career was Flesh Feast. A no budget Grade-Z catastrophe where she played a mad scientist developing a breed of flesh eating maggots while moonlighting for an underground organization of escaped Nazis in possession of Hitler’s body. She is charged with reanimating their Führer so they can take over the world. Turns out though, Lake is only doing this to avenge her mother who was subjected to Nazi experiments in the concentration camps. Once old Adolf is alive and kicking again, she throws her flesh eating maggots in his face and laughs maniacally as he dies a second, painful death. Honestly, Lakes delivery of the line “Don’t you like my little maggots?” deserves to go down as one of the all-time camptastic line readings in the history of cinema. But seriously, this movie raises so many questions I can’t even start. Like, if she just agreed to star I could understand, but she was a producer on this, she went all-in on this project, why? Why this of all things?

[ardentmuse]

Hi Lia! I was wondering if I could get a Kingsman and a HP ship? I am an ENFP, Scorpio, Ravenclaw, bi, female. I'm bubbly, probably too loud, friendly, and witty (usually vulgar innuendos). I draw, sing, dance, and daydream. I am a bit of a flirt, but super easy to fluster. Gym is hell for my asthma but I'm a good shot! I'm 5'5 with big green eyes and long curly brown hair a huge smile and a lil chubby. My patronus is a Fox! A cat person but dogs are heckin cute too. Thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️

Hello Fellow ENFP and cat person! Thanks for your patience with these. :) I hope you enjoy.

Lover: Eggsy

Best Friend: Roxy

Mentor: Arthur

Code Name: Kay

Specialty: Logistics (and keeping everyone in line)

Dog: Beagle

What you did before Kingsman: Event Planner

Vacation / Honeymoon Spot: Large Cities (Buenos Aires, Singapore, Sydney, wherever the mood takes you)

You better believe that Eggsy Unwin was overwhelmingly excited to find someone to keep up tit for tat with his flirtatious nature. He had assumed everyone at Kingsman would be uptight and stoic, like he assumed Harry and Merlin were. So when he met you, Arthur’s secretary, he was immediately smitten. His witty one-liners and cute little pick up lines were returned with enthusiasm. And the bright blush on your cheeks that he could cause so easily made him swell with pride.

Eggsy often tried to use his good report with you to get special treatment from your boss, trying to sweet talk you into allowing him into meetings to which he was not invited or asking for information that were classified. This earned him a decent scolding from you and many, many teases from Harry for how blatantly obvious he was being about his affections for you.

it wasn’t until the Kingsman Christmas party that anything actually came of all of this flirtation. As a result of gentle nudges for Merlin, Eggsy had a little too much to drink. This had the opposite effect on him than I did most other people. And he found himself completely flustered and nervous around you.

His drunken confession was adorably awkward, filled with stutters, misspoken words, and hesitant leans forward to kiss you. He took you out on a date the following week, and you quickly discovered that your chemistry that had previously only been verbal translated beautifully into something physical as well.

Your relationship gave Eggsy something to come home to, someone to love and care for, and most importantly something to motivate him to do better and be better. Your constant dreams about the future gave him hope and together you worked to build a life filled with adventure and love.

If a mission was particularly tough or things got overwhelmingly stressful, Eggsy would take the jet back to you as quickly as he could, picking you up and going to the first place that came to his mind. It didn’t really matter where because you would just find a hotel with a nice view and make love until the only thoughts that filled Eggsy’s mind were of you.

Lover: Remus Lupin

Best Friend: Marlene McKinnon

House: Ravenclaw

Family: Bagnold

Favorite Subject: Divinations

Clubs / Accolades: Frog Choir

Job: Singer

Patronus: Fox

Remus first got to know you when you dated Sirius during their seventh year. Sirius was going through a “settle down with a nice girl” phase as a result of James’s happiness with Lily, which meant Sirius had a different girlfriend every couple weeks, trying on a bunch for size but never committing to any of them.

You were the perfect girlfriend in Remus’s opinion. You were smart, supportive, engaging, talented, and downright adorable. You had the quick wit to put Sirius in his place and you had the social skills to keep up with him during his many parties. You were exactly the type of woman he always imagined for Sirius, an equal. But three weeks later, Sirius ended things, stating it just didn’t “feel right,” and that was that. You went back to your life among your Ravenclaw friends and the Marauders went about tolerating a new girl the following week, one that Remus couldn’t help but think was a huge downgrade from you.

It wasn’t until a few years later that Remus encountered you again. The war was in full swing and somehow the death eaters seemed to have the upper hand. Shortly after the murder of Marlene McKinnon, the Order realized their traditional communication channels were compromised. And so Remus, who was primarily undercover among the werewolves, was sent to meet up with you, the daughter of the new minister of magic.

Upon meeting you again, he reaffirmed all the things he had thought about you those years ago. You are still as beautiful and charismatic as he remembered, and somehow still radiating a positive light through all this loss. Weekly information sharing meetings became a great source of joy for Remus, the one spot of light in a period of time that was filled with an overshadowing darkness. You became true partners, fighting together from two different sides for the forces of good. Trust was such a limited commodity in these times, but you couldn’t help but seeing the honesty and kindness that was so true to the core of Remus Lupin.

He confessed his feelings for you one night after you cared for him following a full moon, his secret now out in the open. You cared for him just the same and that was how he knew that all those special things he thought were right for Sirius were in fact right for himself all along. The following days that he spent in bed healing for filled with innumerable cuddles in an endless flow of hot chocolate, the perfect start to what would be an amazingly supportive and loving relationship.

In the following years, you took up singing as your career and together you traveled around the country. With the invention of wolfsbane, Remus accepted the job as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. You bought a lovely cottage outside Hogsmeade and began performing at the Three Broomsticks full time, spending your weekends with your husband and Harry, enjoying the peace your new life provided.

[anasrbu]

Who am I in this Country to say anything?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, do I have the right to post anything about this.

Is this something that supposed to be written on my page, given the content I make?

Been doubting for a quite few days now, justifying it… Well, I don’t have a huge platform does it really matter what I think anyway?

And you know what?! Enough of BS.

Yes, this topic is above all the professions and success in the world.

Yes, this is something we all have to work on. We have to acknowledge that we all are involved in this mess on one way or another.

Yes, Imma say something!

Because, I do have the power in my hands and I do have the same rights as others to stand for what I believe in, regardless of where I’m coming from.  Honestly, I don’t care what consequences might be reflected back on me, I will do what I have to do. I will do my part.

This is the first time in my life I’m deeply feeling the calling from those who need my help, and it is my obligation to be there for them! Not as an artist, but as a human being.

Allow me start. 

Facts:

Black innocent man was brutally killed in a middle of the day by 4 cops. All recorded and clearly seen.

Nobody could pretend anymore that racism doesn’t exist.

I think every human being who saw that video realized that the whole system is broken and the way police is treating black community is disgusting and unacceptable.

People immediately went on the streets to protest against dysfunctional system we live in.

Meanwhile, they only charged one outta four with the 3rd degree sentence! After 4 days. Seems like if it weren’t for the Public’s eyes they wouldn’t bother to do so in the name of justice. And these are the people we rely on? The same ones who swore to serve and protect us? Whaaaat?

Police officer was kneeling on George Floyd’s neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds!!!!! He kept kneeling on unconscious, powerless man, until he killed him. Sorry gov, but this isn’t for the 3rd degree. What about two others holding him tight on the ground and the fourth one who was making sure that people around who were watching, don’t get involved? This isn’t good enough of proof to charge all partners in crime?

If were the opposite we would probably have the guy behind the camera in prison too. Same day!

Double standards NO MORE. Piece of clothing and badge doesn’t give any right to kill the innocent.

  I remain politically neutral, but this has gone way too far.

Unfortunately, this is the language of America for a very loooong time. And we all ignored it. The whole World ignores it and participated. No innocent country I heard of.

But we don’t care when it’s happening to someone else. We are sharing emotional, cute videos when the Military dad comes back to his 2 years old son.  Do we think about the kid on the other side of the border? Does he still have a father to hug?

Now, our own Country is against its own people. These very same guys in the uniform are protecting us from us, from the truth, from the justice and peace. Censuring the free speech and communication on social media… Who thought this could be happening in America?

Well, now we see it clearly in front of our eyes.

 Government is saying: “Looting can’t bring back his life.”         (Very true, but..?!)  Also, the same government: Bombs a Middle East even tho it can’t bring back the 9/11 !!!!

Also, fights other countries in the name of democracy and peace (please think how ridiculous and absurd this sounds?!!!) Go to war to make the peace. Really?

My small county of only 7m people was bombed too, half of Americans don’t even bother to know. We are so used to bombing all the time, giving pain to others, we don’t even keep the track no more of 

Where?

When?

Who?

Why?

This phase is called acknowledgment.

That’s why is loud.

We are hurting.

That’s why we see many protests in America and all around the planet basically. People are tired of everything. Insured buildings can be easily fixed but lives not. We cannot replace one lost innocent life.  

We cannot lose one more chance to STOP the hate and injustice.  

That’s why, NOW is the time to speak up, to unify, and to show them what we think and what we can do together. We are walking for all of the victims from the past. And unfortunately the majority is from Black community.

Anger is what you see.

Love & compassion is what we feel.

Let that sink in.

 There’s no gene to racism and hate. Where did we learn all this from? Let’s reconsider all prejudices we have. Starting from art, our music industry and movies we watch every night. Who is the gangster...black boys? Who’s a bad guy.....Russian? Asian? who’s a terrorist.....Muslims? and so on... Then we have the media and other powerful forces which are constantly presenting all of us in a much stigmatized way.

People, don’t you see? We are boxed.

We incorporated hate to our reality. We made this shit outta nothing! To the point that we completely separated ourselves.

Than we have a year of 2020. To enter new decade stronger and smarter. Time to burst this bubble of fear. Time to appreciate beautiful differences we have. We got to protect our harmony at all costs.

This topic is so complex I cannot write everything I want to…..these are just the few examples that came on top of my mind, It’s not like I am blaming media and creative industry for all madness.

I just want to encourage people to take responsibility for their part.    

I personally grew up rarely seeing black people. But I remember when I did - they were treated like superstars. Literally. I’m not lying or exaggerating.         We all wanted to take pictures with them and were trying to teach them to say something on our language to look even cooler with a cute accent. And for sure, that we can say that we have a black friend. It was a pride in a way to be around authentic people.

And I swear, this is how I expected to be in here too. For my 3 full years in US, believe it or not, I’ve only met 2 black guys. Wondering why? We don’t go to same clubs, we don’t hang at the same places, we have no chances to meet and be friends. They are afraid to step in “white” neighborhoods, somebody might call a police on them. Sounds beyond belief, but after seeing brutality over George Floyd. Now I understand why.

For so long this Country has been my heaven on the earth. I have to admit, I ignored all of the bad things I’ve ever heard about US on purpose. Thought, when I go I’ll see it myself. I knew that a  few bad leaders don’t represent the whole nation.                                                                                                        As a teenager, I was dreaming about how amazing it would be to one day be the part of great America.

Now, I am ashamed.  

Yesterday, I walked in to the store, saw few people of color in a line and I lowered my head. I can’t look them in the eyes anymore. I am guilty for allowing this to be happening to anyone. And I am discussed by all of the things I’ve seen lately. As someone who has traveled through EU & US and as an immigrant to this country, I saw undeniable difference in treating “different” people whether we talk about the people of color or LGBT or based on religion or nationality. And all I want to ask you now…

Is this what we call the FREE COUNTRY?  

A modern and developed World?

Is this superior human evolution?

 We failed.

And If we don’t learn from our mistakes and horrible history.                              We will fail again.

You know what you gotta do. 

Do it.

 ************************************************************

God bless America

Lend that I love

Stand beside her and guide her

Through the night with the light from above

This land is your land. This land is my land.

This land was made for you and me.

One nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for ALL. ♥

  Ana Srbu

Journey To Becoming a Better Human

[studiobowesart]

Music, Time and Long-Term Thinking: Brian Eno Expands the Vocabulary of Human Feeling

Brian Eno’s creative activities defy categorization. Widely known as a musician and producer, Eno has expanded the frontiers of audio and visual art for decades, and posited new ways of approaching creativity in general. He is a thinker and speaker, activist and eccentric. He formulated the idea of the Big Here and Long Now—a central conceptual underpinning of The Long Now Foundation, which he helped found with Stewart Brand and Danny Hillis in 01996. Eno’s artistic career has often dealt closely with concepts of time, scale, and, as he puts it in the liner notes to Apollo“expanding the vocabulary of human feeling.”

Ambient and Generative Art

Brian Eno coined the term ‘ambient music’ to describe a kind of music meant to influence an ambience without necessarily demanding the listener’s full attention. The notes accompanying his 01978 album Ambient 1: Music for Airports differentiate it from the commercial music produced specifically for background listening by companies such as Muzak, Inc. in the mid-01900s. Eno explains that ambient music should enhance — not blanket — an environment’s acoustic and atmospheric characteristics, to calming and thought-inducing effect. It has to accommodate various levels of listening engagement, and therefore “must be as ignorable as it is interesting” (Eno 296).

Ambient music can have a timeless quality to it. The absence of a traditional structure of musical development withholds a clear beginning or end or middle, tapping into a sense of deeper, slower processes. It lets you “settle into time a little bit,” as Eno said in the first of Long Now’s SALT talks. As TimeMagazine writes, “the theme of time, foreshortened or elongated, is a defining feature of Eno’s musical and visual adventures. But it takes a long lens, pointing back, to bring into focus the ways in which his influence has seeped into the mainstream.”

Eno’s use of the term ‘ambient’ was, however, a product of a long process of musical development. He had been thinking specifically about this kind of music for several years already, and the influence of minimalist artists such as Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Philip Glass had long shaped his musical ideas and techniques. He also drew on many other genres, including Krautrockbands such as Tangerine Dream and Can, whose music was contemporaneous and influential in Eno’s early collaborations with Robert Fripp, e.g. (No Pussyfooting). While their music might not necessarily fall into the genre ‘ambient,’ David Sheppard notes that “Eno and Fripp’s lengthy essays shared with Krautrock a disavowal of verse/chorus orthodoxy and instead relied on an essentially static musical core with only gradual internal harmonic developments” (142). In his autobiography, Eno also points to developments in audio technology as key in the development of the genre, as well as one particularly insightful experience he had while bedridden after an accident:

New sound-shaping and space-making devices appeared on the market weekly (and still do), synthesizers made their clumsy but crucial debut, and people like me just sat at home night after night fiddling around with all this stuff, amazed at what was now possible, immersed in the new sonic worlds we could create.

And immersion was really the point: we were making music to swim in, to float in, to get lost inside.

This became clear to me when I was confined to bed, immobilized by an accident in early 01975. My friend Judy Nylon had visited, and brought with her a record of 17th-century harp music. I asked her to put it on as she left, which she did, but it wasn’t until she’d gone that I realized that the hi-fi was much too quiet and one of the speakers had given up anyway. It was raining hard outside, and I could hardly hear the music above the rain — just the loudest notes, like little crystals, sonic icebergs rising out of the storm. I couldn’t get up and change it, so I just lay there waiting for my next visitor to come and sort it out, and gradually I was seduced by this listening experience. I realized that this was what I wanted music to be — a place, a feeling, an all-around tint to my sonic environment.

It was not long after this realization that Eno released the album Discreet Music, which he considers to be an ambient work, mentioning a conceptual likeness to Erik Satie’s Furniture Music. One of the premises behind its creation was that it would be background for Robert Fripp to play over in concerts, and the title track is about half an hour long — as much time as was available to Eno on one side of a record.

It is also an early example in his discography of what later became another genre closely associated with Eno and with ambient: generative music. In the liner notes — which include the story of the broken speaker epiphany — he writes:

Since I have always preferred making plans to executing them, I have gravitated towards situations and systems that, once set into operation, could create music with little or no intervention on my part.

That is to say, I tend towards the roles of planner and programmer, and then become an audience to the results.

This notion of creating a system that generates an output is an idea that artists had considered previously. In fact, in the 18th century even Mozart and others experimented with a ‘musical dice game’ in which the numerical results of rolling dice ‘generated’ a song. More relevant to Brian Eno’s use of generative systems, however, was the influence of 20th century composers such as John Cage. David Sheppard’s biography of Brian Eno describes how Tom Phillips — a teacher at Ipswich School of Art where Eno studied painting in the mid 01960s — introduced him to the musical avant garde scene with the works of Cage, Cornelius Cardew, and the previously mentioned minimalists Reich, Glass and Riley (Sheppard 35–41). These and other artists exposed Eno to ideas such as aleatory and minimalist music, tape experimentation, and performance or process-based musical concepts.

Eno notes Steve Reich’s influence on his generative music, acknowledging that “indeed a lot of my interest was directly inspired by Steve Reich’s sixties tape pieces such as Come Out) and It’s Gonna Rain” (Eno 332). And looking back on a 01970 performance by the Philip Glass Ensemble at the Royal College of Art, Brian Eno highlights its impact on him:

This was one of the most extraordinary musical experiences of my life — sound made completely physical and as dense as concrete by sheer volume and repetition. For me it was like a viscous bath of pure, thick energy. Though he was at that time described as a minimalist, this was actually one of the most detailed musics I’d ever heard. It was all intricacy and exotic harmonics. (Sheppard 63–64)

The relationship between minimalism and intricacy, in a sense, is what underlies the concept of generative music. The artist designs a system with inputs which, when compared to the plethora of outputs, appear quite simple. Steve Reich’s It’s Gonna Rain is, in fact, simply a single 1.8 second recording of a preacher shouting “It’s gonna rain!” played simultaneously on two tape recorders. Due to the inconsistencies in the two devices’ hardware, however, the recordings play at slightly different speeds, producing over 17 minutes of phasing in which the relationship between the two recordings constantly changes.

Brian Eno has taken this capacity for generative music to create complexity out of simplicity much further. Discreet Music (01975) used a similar approach, but started with recordings of different lengths, used an echo system, and altered timbre over time. The sonic possibilities opened by adding just a few more variables are vast.

This experimental approach to creativity is just one of many that Eno explored, including some non-musical means of prompting unexpected outputs. The same year that Discreet Music was released, he collaborated with painter Peter Schmidt to produce Oblique Strategies: Over One Hundred Worthwhile Dilemmas.

The work is a set of cards, each one with an aphorism designed to help people think differently or to approach a problem from a different angle. These include phrases such as “Honour thy error as a hidden intention,” “Work at a different speed,” and “Use an old idea.” Schmidt had created something a few years earlier along the same lines that he called ‘Thoughts Behind the Thoughts.’ There was also inspiration to be drawn from John Cage’s use of the I Ching to direct his musical compositions and George Brecht’s 01963 Water Yam Box. Like a generative system, the Oblique Strategies provides a guiding rule or principle that is specific enough to focus creativity but general enough to yield an unknown outcome, dependent on a multitude of variables interacting within the framework of the strategy.

Three decades later, generative systems remained a central inspiration for Eno and a source of interesting cross-disciplinary collaboration. In 02006, he discussed them with Will Wright, creator of popular video game series The Sims, at a Long Now SALT talk:

Wright observed that science is all about compressing reality to minimal rule sets, but generative creation goes the opposite direction. You look for a combination of the fewest rules that can generate a whole complex world that will always surprise you, yet within a framework that stays recognizable. “It’s not engineering and design,” he said, “so much as it is gardening. You plant seeds. Richard Dawkins says that a willow seed has only about 800K of data in it.” — Stewart Brand

Brian Eno has always been interested in this explosion of possibilities, and has in recent years created generative art that incorporates both audio and visuals. He notes that his work 77 Million Paintings would take about 10,000 years to run through all of its possibilities — at its slowest setting. Long Now produced the North American premiere of 77 Million Paintings at Yerba Buena center for the Arts in 02007, and members were treated to a surprise visit from Mr. Eno who spoke about his work and Long Now.

Eno also designed an art installation for The Interval, Long Now’s cafe-bar-museum venue in San Francisco. “Ambient Painting #1” is the only example of Brian’s generative light work in America, and the only ambient painting of his that is currently on permanent public display anywhere.

Ambient Painting #1, by Brian Eno. Photo by Gary Wilson.

Another generative work called Bloom, created with Peter Chilvers, is available as an app.

Part instrument, part composition and part artwork, Bloom’s innovative controls allow anyone to create elaborate patterns and unique melodies by simply tapping the screen. A generative music player takes over when Bloom is left idle, creating an infinite selection of compositions and their accompanying visualisations. — Generativemusic.com

Eno’s interest in time and scale (among other things) was shared by Long Now co-founder Stewart Brand, and they were in close correspondence in the years leading up to the creation of The Long Now Foundation. Eno’s 01995 diary, published in part in his autobiography, describes that correspondence in its introduction:

My conversation with Stewart Brand is primarily a written one — in the form of e-mail that I routinely save, and which in 1995 alone came to about 100,000 words. Often I discuss things with him in much greater detail than I would write about them for my own benefit in the diary, and occasionally I’ve excerpted from that correspondence. — Eno, ix

Out of Eno’s involvement with the establishment of The Long Now Foundation emerged in his essay “The Big Here and Long Now”, which describes his experiences with small-scale perspectives and the need for larger ones, as well as the artist’s role in social change.

This imaginative process can be seeded and nurtured by artists and designers, for, since the beginning of the 20th century, artists have been moving away from an idea of art as something finished, perfect, definitive and unchanging towards a view of artworks as processes or the seeds for processes — things that exist and change in time, things that are never finished. Sometimes this is quite explicit — as in Walter de Maria’s “Lightning Field,” a huge grid of metal poles designed to attract lightning. Many musical compositions don’t have one form, but change unrepeatingly over time — many of my own pieces and Jem Finer’s Artangel installation “LongPlayer” are like this. Artworks in general are increasingly regarded as seeds — seeds for processes that need a viewer’s (or a whole culture’s) active mind in which to develop. Increasingly working with time, culture-makers see themselves as people who start things, not finish them.

And what is possible in art becomes thinkable in life. We become our new selves first in simulacrum, through style and fashion and art, our deliberate immersions in virtual worlds. Through them we sense what it would be like to be another kind of person with other kinds of values. We rehearse new feelings and sensitivities. We imagine other ways of thinking about our world and its future.

[…] In this, the 21st century, we may need icons more than ever before. Our conversation about time and the future must necessarily be global, so it needs to be inspired and consolidated by images that can transcend language and geography. As artists and culture-makers begin making time, change and continuity their subject-matter, they will legitimise and make emotionally attractive a new and important conversation.

The Chime Generator and January 07003

Brian Eno’s involvement with Long Now began through his discussions with Stewart Brand about time and long-term thinking, and the need for a carefully crafted sonic experience to help The Clock evoke deep time for its visitors posed a challenge Eno was uniquely suited to take on.

From its earliest conception, the imagined visit to the 10,000-Year Clock has had aural experience at its core. One of Danny Hillis’ earliest refrains about The Clock evokes this:

It ticks once a year, bongs once a century, and the cuckoo comes out every millennium. —Danny Hillis

In the years of brainstorming and design that have molded this vision into a tangible object, a much more detailed and complicated picture has come into focus, but sound has remained central; one of the largest components of the 10,000-Year Clock will be its Chime Generator.

Rather than a bong per century, visitors to the Clock will have the opportunity to hear it chime 10 bells in a unique sequence each day at noon. The story of how this came to be is told by Mr. Eno himself in the liner notes of January 07003: Bell Studies for The Clock of the Long Now, a collection of musical experiments he synthesized and recorded in 02003:

When we started thinking about The Clock of the Long Now, we naturally wondered what kind of sound it could make to announce the passage of time. Bells have stood the test of time in their relationship to clocks, and the technology of making them is highly evolved and still evolving. I began reading about bells, discovering the physics of their sounds, and became interested in thinking about what other sorts of bells might exist. My speculations quickly took me out of the bounds of current physical and material possibilities, but I considered some license allowable since the project was conceived in a time scale of thousands of years, and I might therefore imagine bells with quite different physical properties from those we now know (Eno 3).

Bells have a long history of marking time, so their inclusion in The Clock is a natural fit. Throughout this long history, they’ve also commonly been used in churches, meditation halls and yoga studios to offer a resonant ambiance in which to contemplate a connection to something bigger, much as The Clock’s vibrations will help inspire an awareness of one’s place in deep time. Furthermore, bells were central to some early forms of generative music. While learning about their history, Eno found a vast literature on the ways bells had been used in Britain to explore the combinatorial possibilities afforded by following a few simple rules:

Stated briefly, change-ringing is the art (or, to many practitioners, the science) of ringing a given number of bells such that all possible sequences are used without any being repeated. The mathematics of this idea are fairly simple: n bells will yield n! sequences or changes. The ! is not an expression of surprise but the sign for a factorial: a direction to multiply the number by all those lower than it. So 3 bells will yield 3 x 2 x 1 = 6 changes, while 4 bells will yield 4 x 3 x 2 x 1 = 24 changes. The ! process does become rather surprising as you continue it for higher values of n: 5! = 120, and 6! = 720 — and you watch the number of changes increasing dramatically with the number of bells. — Eno 4

Eno noticed that 10 bells in this context will provide 3,628,800 sequences. Ring one of those each day and you’ll be occupied for almost exactly 10,000 years, the proposed lifespan of The Clock.

Following this line of thinking, he imagined using the patterns played by the bells as a method of encoding the amount of time that had elapsed since The Clock had started ringing them. Writing in 02003, he says:

I wanted to hear the bells of the month of January, 07003 — approximately halfway through the life of the Clock.

I had no idea how to generate this series, but I had a good idea who would.

I wrote to Danny Hillis asking whether he could come up with an algorithm for the job. Yes, he wrote back, and in fact he could come up with an algorithm for generating all the possible algorithms for that job. Not having the storage space for a lot of extra algorithms in my studio, I decided to settle for just the one. — Eno 6

And so, the pattern The Clock’s bells will ring was set. Using a start point (02003 in this case), one can extrapolate the order in which the Bells will ring for a given day in the future. The title track of the album features the synthesized bells played in each of the 31 sequences for the month of January in the year 07003. Other tracks on the album use different algorithms or different bells to explore alternative possibilities; taken together, the album is distinctly “ambient” in Eno’s tradition, but also unique within his work for its minimalism and procedurality.

The procedures guiding the composition are strict enough that they can be written in computer code. A Long Now Member named Sean Burke was kind enough to create a webpage that illustrates how this works. The site allows visitors to enter a future date and receive a MIDI file of the chimes from that day. You can also download the algorithm itself in the form of a Perl script or just grab the MIDI data for all 10,000 years and synthesize your own bells.

If the bell ringing algorithm is a seed, in what soil can it be planted and expected to live its full life? Compact disks, Perl scripts and MIDI files have their uses, of course, but The Clock has to really last in a physical, functional sense for many thousands of years. To serve this purpose, the Chime Generator manifests the algorithm in stainless steel Geneva wheels rotating on bearings of silicon nitride.

Eno’s Chime Generator prototype. Photo by Because We Can

One of the first prototypes for this mechanism resides at The Interval. In its operation, one can see that the Geneva wheels rotate at different intervals because of their varying numbers of slots. Together, the Geneva wheels represent the ringing algorithm and sequentially engage the hammers in all 3.6 million permutations. For this prototype, the hammers strike Tibetan Bowl Gongs to sound the notes, but any type of bell can be used.

The full scale Chime Generator will be vertically suspended in the Clock shaft within the mountain. The Geneva wheels will be about 8 feet in diameter, with the full mechanism standing over seventy feet in height.

The bells for the full scale Chime Generator won’t be Tibetan Bowl Gongs like in the smaller prototype above. Though testing has been done within the Clock chamber to find its resonant frequency, the exact tuning and design of the Clock’s bells will be left until the chamber is finished and most of the Clock is installed in order to maximize their ability to resonate within the space.

Like much of Brian Eno’s work, the chimes in the 10,000-Year Clock draw together far-flung traditions, high and low tech, and science and art to create a meditative experience, unique in a given moment, but expansive in scale and scope. They encourage the listener to live and to be present in the moment, the “now,” but to feel that moment expanding forward and backward through time, literally to experience the “Long Now.”

Written by Austin Brown and Alex Mensing. Edited and updated by Ahmed Kabil.

Works Cited & Where to Learn More

Autobiography

Eno, Brian. A Year With Swollen Appendices: Brian Eno’s Diary.London: Faber and Faber, 01996.

Biography

Sheppard, David. On Some Faraway Beach: The Life and Times of Brian Eno.London: Orion Books, 02008.

Talks

Talk on Generative Music for In Motion Magazine. June 01996.

“The Long Now,” Long Now SALT talk, November 02003.

“Playing With Time,” Long Now SALT talk with Will Wright, June 02006.

Brian Eno speaks in Moscow, 02011. via Austin Kleon.

“The Long Now, Now”, Long Now SALT talk, January 02014.

Articles

“The Big Here and Long Now” by Brian Eno for The Long Now Foundation. 01996.

“Light Years into the Future” by Michael Brunton for Time Magazine. November 02006.

“New Eno Music Gets ‘Generative’” by Noah Shachtman for Wired. October 02001.

New Yorker article on Long Now board member David Eagleman, including an experiment with Brian Eno on time & rhythm perception

01979 interview with Brian Eno by Lester Bangs

History and description of generative music, excerpted from dissertation by Norbert Herber.

“Brian Eno designs Sound and Light Art for The Interval at Long Now” by mikl em for Long Now blog. July 16, 02013.

This is the first of a series of articles, “Music, Time and Long-Term Thinking,” in which we will discuss music and musicians who have engaged various aspects of long-term thinking, both historically and in the contemporary scene.

from The Long Now Blog http://ift.tt/2ikIAgZ