#and now they must put it out quickly with the power of teamwork... and their love

[mettywiththenotes]

Separated...

Did we believe the long distance relationship would last? Through love, cheese and facetime, could they really power through and finally see each other again? Could they make it to that bright future, one day...?

And the answer is YES BITCHES THEY REUNITED AND BOTH BECAME HEROES

Anyways Dekuyama canon their wedding is next year, everyone is invited, sparkling black tie event in which everyone wears some form of sparkle on their outfit (Aoyama insisted, Izuku couldn't say no)

[68spidey]

A commission piece I purchased from @poisonheadcrabsalesman . I figured now would be a good a time as ever to share! Thank you again for doing my boys such justice, I'll be sitting here reading it over and over again. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!

- Boiling Point -

Summer in New York was like nothing else.

The heat bounced off the concrete, reaching a new intensity that didn’t seem to fade, and it even brought a new smell. Too many bodies, too many cars, too much heat; it was a blistering sprawling mess that spilled over from the crowded streets and subways. People brought it home with them. The city buzzed and cracked in the sunlight. It was baking the asphalt to such a degree their home was beginning to feel like an oven. It was such a pain when the manhole covers got hot enough to burn. It'd been weeks of high temperatures with no relief from the storms echoing through the evenings. Summertime in the concrete jungle did not make for an easy time and tensions rose and hung there like the humid stagnant air. Something was beginning to fester.

Everyone was more easily riled up in the heat, and Leo wasn't immune either. He had snapped at his brothers on more than one occasion, but he had expected the issues to pass. Water under the bridge. They were a team - they were family, and they’d survived everything before. Whenever one of them fell down, the others would help him right back up. Always.

So he was surprised to hear someone in the training room when he was going to squeeze in a bit more practice. It wasn’t unusual but doubt crept in sometimes. He was antsy about something he couldn't quite name, but his poor bandana was getting chewed to pieces if he continued thinking (not sulking!) about it in his room.

He was the leader! He needed to get it together and get his head back in the game. Master Splinter had lectured him enough about doubt and making choices, but still his anxiety stayed, like a shadow at his back, always weighing on his shoulders. Leo was supposed to be better than this. He was supposed to lead his brothers, not struggle under some stupid doubts. He wasn’t a kid anymore! Still, something was off. Spats broke out more and more and now the shadow was back with a vengeance.

Must be the heat, tempers flaring.

Short, curt replies and sharp glances were probably nothing. Probably.

Maybe it was related to recent missions not quite going off without a hitch. Their teamwork and communication could use some work, maybe he could schedule some extra practice…

His bandana finds its way into his mouth and he chews on it without thinking. The cloth is familiar between his teeth. Comfortable.

Still, he needs to be perfect. He can’t keep getting lost in his head. He's expected to be an example and a little extra practice would do something about his worries. He pulls the bandana out of his mouth and shakes his head. He needs to stop looking for childish comforts. Going to the dojo and running through some katas would help. It always did.

Then he could put this silly emotional mess behind him and get some sleep. Things were moving quickly and he needed to be in top shape for his team. For his brothers.

-

The training room echoes with the sound of blows and heavy breathing; the mats on the floor doing nothing to muffle the chaos inside. Noise bouncing off stone and brick doesn’t break the occupant’s concentration. Leo rounds the last corner obscuring which brother is training this late, but he already knows who it is.

Raphael had been tense lately, more serious than usual. He’d bristle over every little thing and eye contact was a signal to fight. Even Mikey had noticed and pointed out that Raph had taken to sulking in his room again. His presence fills the room even as he trains in the corner. His brother’s hits don’t lose their power or accuracy, if anything he seems to hit the dummy harder now that he sees that it’s Leo at the door. There’s water bottles scattered on a nearby bench and other signs pointing that Raphael had been there for a while.

Leo raises his hand in greeting before lowering it and simply nodding in acknowledgement. The look on Raph’s face darkened at the possibility of Leo opening his mouth so he backs off. Leo goes to his usual spot on the mat, but he feels Raph’s eyes like a brand on him.

He waits, takes a breath, and unsheathes his sword moving into first stance. The sound of another hit landing on the dummy rings through the dojo.

And before silence can fall Leo moves. His stance changes, breath flowing through the movement and ending with his sword striking swift and true. There is only him and his envisioned target. He shifts his hips and slices with his sword, power coming from his focus and twisting body. Breath leaves him in a powerful exhale and his eyes follow the line of the blade. He pulls back, hips cocked and sword level with his cheek as he moves to the next kata.

His form is nearly perfect. Nearly.

Again.

He moves back and continues. Resetting and recentering himself as he trains and offers companionship, however unwanted. Leo has to ignore when his brother looks at him and the way Raph huffs at his obvious missteps and the way the hits echo in the room as Raph attacks the dummy again and again. He can wait him out. Raph’s got a short fuse and Leo’s used to dealing with it. They can talk when he calms down. They always do.

But Leo’s tired. Tension has him wound tight and he knows he should be better - he’s the leader - but he’s also reaching his boiling point. He’s hot and sick of the anger radiating off of Raphael for no discernable reason. So he snaps, after once again being subjected to his brother’s not so silent judgment.

He puts too much power behind the sword swing and loses his balance, then overcorrects by going down on one knee to avoid falling.

Raph lets out a laugh, mean and cold. Leo burns. He should walk it off. He should be better. He’s Team Leader.

He stands and sheaths his sword, rolling his shoulders back. Breathe. What would Master Splinter think?

“Thought everything came easy to you?” Raphael calls from his corner. “Funny seeing you mess up.”

Leo flinches and turns to look at his brother who decided to start speaking to him. There’s a bitter edge to his words and hurt in his eyes.

“What?” He responds intelligently. Anxiety ripples in the back of his mind. The Shadow rears its ugly head as he blanks. What would he say to this? Where was this coming from?

“I’m just saying I thought you were better at everything. Didn’t have to work as hard as us problem students?” Raphael is hanging off the dummy now, his broader frame barely hiding the damage to the dummy itself and his poorly wrapped hands. His sai are on the ground. When did he stop using them?

“Hello, Earth to Leo? What, too good to answer me?”

Leo flushes with embarrassment and anger burns up his neck, but he’s worried. This isn’t the usual goading. Raphael is mad mad and going straight where he knows it’ll hurt the most. He looks at Raph’s hands, and at the empty water bottles littering the training room.

"Raph, man, you going easy on the dummy? That's not like you." He prods, ignoring the barbed words. He’s genuine about checking in on his obviously upset brother but the words only seem to stoke Raph’s anger.

His eyes narrow, nostrils flaring, and he stalks closer to face Leo. Tension and barely controlled anger roll off his shoulders and hands flex and close into fists. Something shifts behind his eyes, and he responds with his jaw set and chin raised.

“You done dancing yet? Or are you going to tell me why you’re really here?

“I’m practicing, same as you.” Leo’s defenses are still up, but he’s confused. They’ve always shared everything, if Raph needed space he’d sneak out or sulk in his room.

“Sure you are. Perfect Leo needs to come down here and grace us with his presence because he needs practice.”

“Hey…” Leo’s actually kind of hurt by Raph’s anger. What did he do wrong?

“Just leave it.” Raphael mutters and returns to his corner. His body language is tense and closed off, but Leo’s grown up with him.

He knows what Raph looks like when he’s sad.

Raphael sees him staring and rounds on the dummy, hitting it hard enough it sways and remains rocking for several moments. Then he takes a deep breath and falls into form.

Raphael goes through several techniques as Leo returns to his sword katas. Raph moves onto kicks and Leo winces at the strength he’s using behind them for practice. Waiting him out is proving harder than he thought. He resumes his own forms, but focus is hard. It doesn’t want to come, try as he might he can’t help sneaking glances at Raphael as he works out his emotions in the corner.

Leo gets through 15 more minutes of listening to Raphael pushing himself before he stops and wanders over to the weapons rack. He can hear Raphael pause as he puts up his sword and hefts the wooden practice katana in his hands.

The anxiety is still there. The Shadow lingers in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t allow it to show on his face or in his voice when he asks “Hey, want to spar?”

-

A spar would help. Help blow off some steam. It’s just the heat. The team is fine. They’re fine. Doubts bubble up in the back of his head, rattling around but he doesn’t silence them this time.

They’re not fine. His brother is hurting. Yeah he's the team leader but this was because of the team. Maybe he’d been too harsh recently. Maybe too many missions have gone wrong. Maybe Raph has something going on that he hasn’t talked to anyone about yet. His brother has a short fuse yeah, but he’s a big powder keg too - keeping too much inside until he blows up.

The wood of the practice sword is an old friend in his hands.

Raphael lingers near the weapons rack, unsure if only for a moment before grabbing the dull practice sai.

“Ready?” Leo asks. He shakes his arms out and bounces on his toes at the edge of the mat before falling into a stance. He doesn’t bow, because this is an impromptu thing, casual. It’s a peace offering, one that he hopes Raphael gets. He looks thrown off by the fact that Leo is treating the spar so casually.

Leo smiles.

Raphael remembers his anger and scowls, bringing up his sai. “I’m always ready.”

Leo grins and calls to start.

Raphael moves quickly and hits hard. He must know he’s at the disadvantage - tired from training harder and longer.

Leo blocks. The hilt of his sword shakes in his palm from the force of the hit and he blinks in surprise. The wood clacks loudly against the blunted training sai.

Raphael is tired. It makes sense, since he’d been there for who knows how long before Leo arrived an hour ago. His attacks are sloppy, too much force and wasted movement combining to leave obvious openings that would be all too easy to take.

So he doesn’t.

Leo parries and returns with his own quick strikes, just enough to show Raphael where his openings are.

Hit, hit, block, dodge, hit. Feint, hit, hit, dodge, hit, block. One, two. One, two, block.

Wood on metal. Blunt edges meeting, the previously silence broken by a new dance as they work into a rhythm. There’s less power behind Raphael’s hits even if he hasn’t dropped the scowl. It becomes less of a spar and more of a game. One two, one two three four, one two, back, one two, dodge.

There’s no telegraphing, there’s not even any holding back because they’re both using appropriate force now. Give and take, Receive and push, dodge and redirect.

“Our footwork is a mess.” Leo says between breaths, and the furrow between Raph’s brows that had almost disappeared returns until Leo continues, “Good thing Master Splinter isn’t here to see it.”

That breaks Raphael’s concentration and he snorts. The grin that had been threatening to show finally makes itself known.

The tension in the air lessens and so does the sting in his palms from blocking Raph’s hits with his sword. The tension is still there, but it’s not stifling. The pain is still there too, but it’s a reminder. A warning, to check before things get too bad.

The spare ends when they both get too tired to hold their weapons up. Leo and Raphael are breathing hard, but there’s less anger in the line of Raph’s shoulders. There’s still frustration in his eyes. This didn’t fix everything, but it helped.

Leo feels lighter, internally. Physically his limbs feel like lead and he wants to crawl into bed and sleep for twelve hours. But he’s not done yet. He puts the practice sword away and watches Raphael distance himself again, heading to the door without a word. The anxiety is still there, but it doesn’t stop him. Leo doesn’t let it.

“Hey Raph?” he calls, and Raph actually pauses. He doesn’t face him, but he waits.

“You know, I’m here if you want to talk…or if you ever want to spar.” Leo says after clearing his throat.

Raph doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t leave right away. He cocks his head to the side as he listens. It’s only because Leo is waiting and watching closely that he sees the small shrug of his brother’s shoulders before he disappears down the hall.

It’s late and the air’s cooled off to be comfortable again.

[zapreportsblog]

❝extraterrestrial being❞

✭ pairing : various x reader

✭ fandom : my hero academia x reader

✭ summary : "Extraterrestrial Being" is a thrilling fictional science fanfiction that takes place on the first day of training at UA, an elite academy for aspiring heroes. This action-packed story follows a group of determined students as they encounter an extraordinary event that turns their world upside down. As the students gather for their first training lesson, an unexpected incident occurs: a spaceship crashes right in the middle of the training ground, creating chaos and excitement among the students and their instructors. The crash is unlike anything they've ever witnessed before, and the suspense builds as they wonder what lies beyond the wreckage. To their amazement, out steps an alien female, an extraterrestrial being unlike anything they've encountered. With her strange appearance and advanced technology, the alien quickly captures the attention and curiosity of the students. As they attempt to communicate with her, they realize they must put their training to the test and work together to understand her intentions and prevent any potential danger.

✭ word count : 1,505

✭ chapter one

✭ extraterrestrial being masterlist

The sun crept above the horizon, bathing the U.A. High School campus in a soft, golden light. The promise of a new journey hung in the air as students from across the nation converged, carrying dreams of becoming the next generation of heroes. The weight of their aspirations mingled with the air as they embarked on the first step of their heroic odyssey.

In the midst of the bustling classroom, Shota Aizawa stood up from his yellow sleeping bag unnoticed, with an air of quiet authority. His unruly black hair swayed gently from a nearby breeze, and his scarf fluttered around his neck like a flag of challenge. His gaze, sharp and calculating, swept over the students before him, a mixture of emotions visible in their eyes.

"Listen up," Aizawa's voice cut through the anticipatory chatter.

“Okay. It took you all 8 seconds before you were quiet. Time is limited. You kids, are not rational enough.”

"You're here to become heroes, but that journey starts now. Get dressed, put on these training suits," he continued, tossing a bundle of neatly folded garments onto a students nearby desk. "Meet me at Training Ground 1 in ten minutes."

Excitement rippled through the crowd as the students eagerly grabbed the training suits, their hearts racing with the realization that this was the beginning of their dreams. In the midst of the crowd, Izuku Midoriya clutched the fabric in his hand, his green eyes alight with a mixture of awe and determination. Ochaco Uraraka's fingers brushed over the suit's material as she exchanged a hopeful glance with her newfound friends.

Katsuki Bakugo's fiery ambition was mirrored in his clenched fists as he strode forward, his explosive power practically crackling in the air around him. Shoto Todoroki's icy composure gave way to a flicker of curiosity, while Tenya Iida stood tall, his rigid posture a testament to his unwavering sense of responsibility.

The students regrouped at Training Ground 1, each clad in the training uniforms that potentially past heroes had once wore. Aizawa's eyes bore into them, a silent challenge etched into his features.

"Today, you'll be tested physically, mentally, and strategically. Your quirks, your skills, and your teamwork will all be put to the test. This is your initiation, your first step on the path to becoming heroes," Aizawa's words held a weight that sent a shiver down the students' spines.

”Therefore you’ll will be participating in this Quirk Apprehension Test.”

A hushed silence fell over Training Ground 1 as Aizawa's words hung in the air like an ominous cloud. The students of Class 1-A exchanged wary glances, the weight of his declaration settling heavily on their shoulders. Quirk Apprehension Test – those three words carried the promise of both challenge and uncertainty.

Midoriya's heart raced as he absorbed the implications. His mind whirred, calculating the potential outcomes and the significance of the test's consequences. Beside him, some students cheerful expressions had paled, replaced by a mixture of concern and determination.

Aizawa's gaze swept over the class, his expression unyielding. "This test will assess the control and application of your quirks," he continued, his voice unwavering. "The person in last place will be expelled."

The declaration was met with a collective gasp. Shocked whispers erupted, spreading like wildfire through the class. Students exchanged worried glances, their expressions a mosaic of disbelief and indignation.

"But that's not fair!" A voice rang out, their frustration echoing the sentiments of many. "We just got here, and they're already threatening to expel someone?"

Another students eyes narrowed, "This isn't what we signed up for. We're here to become heroes, not to be pitted against each other like this."

"We're supposed to be a team, right? How can we work together when we're constantly competing like this?"

The protestations grew louder, the students' voices blending into an uproar. "I didn't come here to get expelled on the first day,"

Aizawa's gaze remained unmoved by the chaos unfolding before him. He allowed the students to voice their concerns, their frustrations, their fears. The tumultuous chorus of voices was a testament to their unity, a bond formed in the face of adversity.

Finally, as the crescendo of protest began to subside, Aizawa's voice cut through the noise like a blade. "This test isn't about showing your individual strength," he stated, his tone firm. "It's about learning to overcome challenges and work together. Heroes need to be adaptable, resourceful, and capable of thriving even in the face of adversity."

The words hung in the air, a moment of contemplative silence settling over the class. Aizawa's words held a measure of truth, a reminder that the path to heroism was one of constant growth and evolution.

The students exchanged glances, the tension in the air slowly easing. Their protests had been heard, their frustrations acknowledged. As the sunset cast a warm glow across the training grounds, a newfound sense of unity began to replace the initial uproar.

"What about the entrance ceremony? The orientation?" Uraraka asked in complete bewilderment.

"If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events. UA's selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are. That's also how the teachers run their classes," Aizawa stated, turning his face towards the students. He paused to let them take in the information before continuing.

"You kids have been doing things like this since junior high, too, right? Physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your quirks. The country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their quirks. It's not rational. Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating," he said. 

"Bakugou, you placed first at the top of the practical exam, right? In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?" Aizawa asked whist looking at said boy.

"67 meters," he replied.

"Then, try doing it with your quirk," Aizawa instructed. Bakugou proceeds to walk over to a circle with measurement lines outside of it when Aizawa continued to give directions. "You can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle. Hurry up. Give it all you've got," he instructed. 

Bakugou then turns to where the measurement lines are located and starts to stretch his limbs out. He then takes a step forward and throws the ball with an explosion coming out of his palms to blast the ball further away from him.

‘Heh, I’ll blow all these extras away and show them how awesome I am!’

"DIE..!" he yells as he throws the ball up into the air, a powerful explosion following after, exiting from within the palm of his hand.

"Know your own maximum first," Aizawa stated as the ball started to finally fall.

"That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero," he continued as he holds up a screen that shows the number 705.2 on it. All the students, minus a few, screamed out in exasperation and started to say things such as “this was going to be fun.”

“It looks fun, huh? You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time? Whoever comes in last place will be judged to have no potential and will be punished with expulsion," he said with a menacing grin. Everyone is shocked and makes it known as they yell in exasperation.

“We're free to do what we want about the circumstances of our students. Welcome to UA's hero course!" He adds and even now he can see that some students get encouraged by his statement while others, namely Midoriya, get even more nervous.

"Last place will be expelled? But it's the first day of school! No, even if it wasn't the first day of school, this is too unfair!"

"Natural disasters, big accidents, and selfish villains. Calamities whose time or place can't be predicted. Japan is covered with unfairness. Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations. If you want to go talk with your friends after school, too bad. For the next three years, UA will do all it can to give you one hardship after another. Go beyond. Plus Ultra. Overcome it with all you've got," Aizawa encouraged.

'He is right though. Life is full of unfairness and as his job as a teacher, he has to get his students ready to become the best heroes that they can be by acting like the real world. The only way to beat life's unfairness is to tackle it the best

they can...” Izuku thought, ‘I’ll try my best’ clenching his fist at his side, ‘I’ll do all that I can and show All Might that I’m deserving of this quirk!’

"All right, demonstration's over. The real thing starts now," Aizawa stated.

[executivesearchconsultingfirm]

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As an experienced facilitator for CXO Facilitation in Mumbai, I have seen first-hand the positive impact these programs can have on individuals and organizations but what exactly is executive facilitation? Simply put, it is a process of guiding teams or groups towards achieving their goals by creating a supportive environment for open communication and collaboration This type of training is essential for all levels of management, from CEOs to middle managers.

Mumbai is known as the financial capital of India, with many top companies headquartered here as such, there is great competition among CXOs to stay ahead in the game This makes it crucial for them to constantly strive for personal and professional development That's where expert facilitators step in – they provide valuable insights and tools that help executives reach their full potential.

CXO Facilitation in Delhi goes beyond just learning theoretical concepts – it involves hands-on activities and exercises designed specifically to enhance leadership skills These workshops are tailored according to individual needs and focus on areas like effective communication, decision making under pressure, conflict resolution, motivating teams, etc By participating in these programs, CXOs not only improve their own performance but also foster a more positive work culture within their organization.

One key aspect of successful team building and development programs is finding the right facilitator who understands the unique challenges faced by executives in Mumbai's fast-paced business environment A skilled facilitator should possess strong communication skills, be able to build trust with participants quickly, and create engaging activities that promote teamwork while addressing specific objectives set by clients.

CXO in Mumbai, don't underestimate the power of team building and development programs for your personal growth and success by investing in executive facilitation and leadership training, you are not only investing in yourself but also your organization's future So take that first step towards maximizing your potential by enrolling in one of our tailored CXO workshops today! CXOs in Mumbai looking to elevate their team's performance, attending a CXO workshop is a must These workshops offer targeted executive facilitation and leadership training that can have a significant impact on team building and development By providing opportunities for hands-on learning, networking, and collaboration with other CXOs in Mumbai, these workshops are integral to maximizing success in the fast-paced business world of Mumbai So if you want to take your team's performance to new heights, don't miss out on the benefits of attending a CXO workshop in Mumbai Start planning your attendance now and see the positive results firsthand!

[alexisazria]

50 Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child

50 Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child https://www.teachthought.com/pedagogy/encourage-a-child/ 50 Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child by TeachThought Staff There are many ways to encourage a child, but for students of any age, honest, authentic, and persistent messages from adults that have credibility in their eyes are among the most powerful. The National Center on Quality Teaching and Learning has put together the following list, 50 Ways To Encourage A Child. It was designed for younger students (head start/kindergarten), but with the exception of 4, 17, 21, and maybe 40, they’re actually useful for K-12 in general. It all depends on your tone, the situation, and who else is listening. In addition, they’ve got a couple of other useful documents under their tips for fostering teacher connections series you can check out as well. See also Sentence Stems To Replace ‘I Don’t Know’ Or ‘I Can’t’ 70 Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child See also Need A Lift? Here Are 50 Books That Can Make You Happy 70 Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child Ed note: I started to revise this list and decided to do a follow-up post. I left a few of the sentence stems before the list itself. I respect how you…when… I noticed when you…and I think… You’re improving at…which I can tell is helping you by… There are a lot of wonderful things about you but today I’m noticing that… I tried…times and failed when I tried to…. Stick with it and you might surprise yourself. The way you…and…is allowing you to…. You inspire me to be a better teacher by the way you… Thumbs up. You’re on the right track now. You’ve worked so hard on that. I heard you say how you feel. That’s great, Oh, that turned out very well. That’s coming along nicely. I’m proud of the way you worked today. You’ve just about got it. That’s the best you’ve ever done. You stayed so calm during that problem. That’s it! Now you’ve figured it out! That’s quite an improvement. I knew you could do it. Congratulations. I love hearing your words. What a superstar you are. You’ve solved the problem. Keep working on it, you’re almost there! Now you have it. Your brain must be working hard, you figured that out quickly. I bet you’re proud of yourself. One more time and you’ll have it. Great idea! You’re amazing! Terrific teamwork! Nothing can stop you now. You have such creative ideas. That’s the way to do it. Sensational! You must have been practicing. You handled that so well. I like how you think. Good remembering. You know just what to do! You really are persisting with this. You expressed yourself so well. You did it! I knew you two could figure it out together. Excellent job saying how you feel. I know it’s hard, but you’re almost there. Fantastic problem-solving! I love hearing about your ideas. I know that was hard for you, but you stayed so calm. Yes! Looked at how you help each other. You finished faster because you worked together. You kept trying! Excellent try! You are a creative thinker. 20 More Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child I believe in you. I love how you keep improving with practice. You are capable of amazing things. You make a difference. Your effort is what matters most. I love how you keep going, even when it’s tough. You are a great problem solver. I love seeing you learn new things. You have a kind heart. You are so creative. It’s okay to make mistakes; that’s how we learn. I appreciate how you keep challenging yourself. Every time you try, you get better. I’m so lucky to know you. You are so thoughtful and caring. You make the world a better place. I see how much you’re learning and growing. You are important, and you matter. 70 Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child; image attribution flickr user skokiemonumentpark The post 50 Things You Can Say To Encourage A Child appeared first on TeachThought.

[thetoxicgamer]

“Unbalanced” Texas Chainsaw Massacre killers are no big deal, Gun says

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre video game, which is based on the famous 1974 film's events, is almost here. Even if asymmetrical horror games and iconic films go hand in hand, Dead by Daylight has remained atop the heap. Other contenders include Evil Dead the Game and Ghostbusters Spirits Unleashed. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, in our opinion, is the only movie that can compete. Particularly considering how well the horrific Slaughter family murders fit the genre. However, according to publisher Gun Interactive, balance is not everything. Ahead of the Texas Chain Saw Massacre release date, Gun Interactive creative director Ronnie Hobbs fills us in on the game’s various maps, new victims and family members, and how The Texas Chain Saw Massacre won’t end up like Friday the 13th, another Gun game. As huge fans of the horror genre, Gun Interactive is the perfect studio to bring Leatherface to his own game, and Hobbs tells us just why he and his family suit the asymmetrical genre so well. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre Slaughter family appearing in the key art for the multiplayer game.“In Texas, there’s an entire family of killers, and that’s something a lot of other horror IPs simply can’t offer,” says Hobbs. “We constantly want to innovate and push the entire genre in new directions. This can’t be accomplished by doing the same thing over and over, or by mimicking what others might be doing in the industry. We felt the best way to accomplish this was by choosing a franchise that offered something new, something different to anything that is current on the market.” The Texas Chain Saw Massacre game certainly does that. By putting an entire family against a team of survivors, you get an experience that other, typically 4v1 games, don’t offer. As Hobbs continues: “The Slaughter family was the perfect conduit for our multiple killers gameplay angle, which would really allow us to revolutionize the genre and push it forward.” But with fairness being a bone of contention with all asymmetrical games, how does having three killers affect balance? In a refreshing take, Gun thinks balance isn’t actually that important, and that the killers should feel powerful. “Introducing multiple killers to the genre was definitely no small task,” Hobbs continues, “but the idea that they must be perfectly balanced in order for the game to feel fun and rewarding was abandoned pretty quickly. When it comes to ‘balancing’ killers, we actually have an alternative philosophy that might seem counterintuitive to traditional design – instead of decreasing stats or ability effectiveness for each Family member, we instead spend more time increasing overall Victim survivability. “We found that if Victims can live longer, or can survive multiple encounters and prolong their play session, then having so-called ‘unbalanced’ killers wasn’t as big of a deal as it might seem. The truth is any killer, in any game, should always be unbalanced to an extent. That’s where their lethality comes from. “We never want to take the power away from the Family, or make them seem like they aren’t in control. So while they might be outnumbered, they should always feel deadly and capable of making Victims pay for their mistakes. Our design philosophy was that it’s okay to have powerful family members, even slightly unbalanced ones, as long as the Victims had equally powerful stats, abilities, or gameplay features that could help them get away.” Now we’ve spent some time with the Slaughter family in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, it’s safe to say that Gun and Sumo Nottingham have outdone themselves with this revolutionary gameplay. Having great teamwork and communication is key to success in the horror game, especially on the victim side – they might be pretty sturdy, but there’s a slim chance of getting out alone when you’re down to 1v3, so Vics should try and get out together. That said, somehow, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre feels balanced and fair, and every match will surprise you. If you’re eager to grab the thrilling horror game, you can get The Texas Chain Saw Massacre on sale right now, but if you aren’t quite sold yet, perhaps our review could help you make your mind up. Read the full article

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned. 

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.  

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)   ♡  (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

1.

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen,  and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

2.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

3.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

[mc-lukanette]

do you have any lukanette ideas with chat/adrien salt? the newest episode reignited my annoyance towards him and his stans acting like he didn’t do anything wrong is not helping. i mean, flirting with ladybug while he’s dating kagami? getting excited over a possible akumatization?? and since i know that behavior won’t be addressed bc adrien is “perfect” and “the love square is endgame” therefore he gets a pass for any bad behavior, i was hoping for some fanmade salt (and lukanette is always a great addition to any story)

I can appreciate how starved you guys are to hear me salt on this blog.

But yeah, I came up with something considering that quite a bit of Chat’s behavior happens before Truth appears in “Lies.”

So hear me out--

Truth is a threat, considering that Luka is the only hero outside of Ladybug intended to be a planner. All others take orders directly from Ladybug herself, but Viperion could plan on his own.

This means that Truth realizes quickly that his strategy of asking for the heroes’ identities isn’t going to work because they’ll shout over him every time. He has to get creative and comes up with the idea to divide the heroes.

He comments on their teamwork, perhaps saying vaguely about how their teamwork can’t outmatch his and Pharo’s. Chat obviously takes the bait, talking on and on about how he and Ladybug are the best team and that they’re made for each other.

“Really?” Truth asks casually. “You’ve never done anything against her?”

Chat Noir responds, his white lips moving to say, “Of course I have!”

Ladybug gapes, and Chat looks calm for a second before his eyes immediately widen in panic.

He tries to say that it’s not what he means, but Truth’s power is active, so he just blurts out, “That’s exactly what I mean!”

He tries to cover his mouth with his non-Cataclysm hand, but gets shot by Pharo.

“I told Theo Barbot that we were dating and it got him akumatized!”

“You did what?!” Ladybug asks, having never heard this before.

Chat doesn’t stop - he can’t - and his mouth keeps moving. He admits that he sacrifices himself because he knows it won’t matter since Ladybug will fix it, and it means he’ll always leave an impression on her. He admits that he didn’t care when Nadja or Alya were egging on the LadyNoir ship because he feels like Ladybug will come around eventually. He admits that he doesn’t take her seriously when she goes off on him because “she’s cute when she’s angry.” He admits that he wanted an akuma to happen even though he knew Ladybug was busy, just because he wanted to spend time with her. He admits to telling his kwami he’d quit while Paris was underwater if he didn’t spill what Ladybug was hiding.

Honestly, even Truth at this point is like, “man I wanted to divide your teamwork, not your entire relationship.”

Ladybug eventually manages to snap out of her trance and deal with the whole situation (mostly by herself), but the damage is done. Even after the akuma has been purified and Truth turns back into Luka, Chat’s words linger and Ladybug ignores him.

“Are you okay, Luka?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah, thanks...”

Chat is awkwardly standing nearby, his tail in both hands as he fiddles with it. “So--ah... Bugaboo--”

“Don’t,” Ladybug cuts in, not even looking at him. “Is that why you use that nickname when I’m mad? To butter me up? Try to earn points? Do you think it’s funny?”

“No, no!” He waves his hands frantically. “It’s not--”

“See, the thing is that now I won’t know whether you’re lying or not,” she points out, the situation feeling all to familiar to when Tikki lied to her, only this was worse. She honestly wanted to trust Chat Noir; he was her partner, irreplaceable in the sense that he was there from the start.

But maybe not irreplaceable elsewhere.

“I wouldn’t lie to you!” he swears.

“But you’ll keep things from me,” she counters. She sighs, gently taking Luka’s hand and helping him stand, then addressing him as she says, “I’ll take you home, alright?”

Luka’s gaze briefly flickers between the two of them, but he asks no questions and nods. “Thank you.”

She guides him up the staircase to take him up to the balcony, Chat Noir rushing over to stand at the bottom of the steps.

“M’lady--!”

Ladybug turns to him with a silencing glare. “I really don’t want to be around you right now. We’ll talk later when I’m ready.”

(He’s going to be in for a long talk when they finally meet back up again, and suddenly, he isn’t so eager for an akuma to come rushing by to force them to come back together as a team.)

And with that, Ladybug goes up to the balcony, takes Luka in her arms, and leaves. Things are quiet at first, her taking in a few breaths of the night air as she tries to relax.

The past few days had been a mess, and that was putting it lightly. The kwami, dating, the akuma (that Chat Noir had apparently been soooo excited about), and now this big revelation. The stress must show on her face too, as she can occasionally feel Luka’s concerned gaze on her.

In a way, it’s nice, just having her boyfriend care like this, even when she’s in a mask. He’d put up with way more for her than she felt like he should’ve, and she knew that he’d disagree if she even dared to voice that thought.

Without really thinking, she starts talking to him. She talks about Ladybug, about everything; being thrown into this life that she didn’t ask for, and being happy to save Paris but sad at the emotional toll it takes. She tells him about all the friends who tease her for her lateness, and while it might’ve been funny at first - she was genuinely absent-minded at times - it doesn’t become as funny when knowing that it was something that couldn’t be helped.

“...I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Luka says in an offer of comfort. He sighs, not recoiling from her but it feels like he’s distant anyway. “I know it didn’t help that I was akumatized. I hope I didn’t do anything to Marinette.”

Her gaze softens; of course he’s thinking of her again. It’s Luka, she has no right to be surprised.

Chat Noir, meanwhile, was just thinking of himself.

“Actually,” she corrects, something occurring to her, “I think you might’ve helped in your own way.”

Luka tilts his head at her, puzzled.

She changes course just slightly, specifically to a spot not too far from the Liberty; one that is very familiar to both of them, and she can tell by the way his brows raise that he’s surprised by where she’s about to land.

Underneath the bridge, in the spot where he’d initially asked her - when she was Marinette - where she’d always been going, just before he got akumatized.

She sets him down, then paces around to try and clear her head.

“...Like I said, I didn’t get a lot of choice in this,” she begins. “I tried to give my miraculous up once in the beginning, but there was so much pressure and everything was going wrong. Then, things would just--happen around me, things that I couldn’t really think of--and this is coming from me!” She turns to him dramatically, gesturing to herself. “I imagine things going wrong all the time and I still can’t predict when they actually do!”

Luka chuckles lightly at that, but otherwise stays quiet, unsure of where she’s going with this but giving her his full attention.

“Me becoming the new guardian of the miraculouses so out of nowhere... it was a lot, and suddenly I had a bunch of kwami around my room who all wanted to get into my stuff or mess around. I didn’t choose to let them out; it just happened when I was trying to see how the box with all the miraculouses worked.” She groans a bit, rubbing her forehead as she paces around again. “Then in came Shadow Moth and all the akuma showing up, and now I’m even busier. I can’t even make time for my boyfriend.”

There’s a flicker of emotion in Luka’s eyes at that, but he doesn’t say anything, though his fingers twitch slightly at his sides.

“Then--” She looks down. “--there’s Chat Noir. I didn’t choose him either; the old guardian chose him for me, and he wasn’t even fully trained. I was Chat’s partner and that was it; I didn’t get a choice to give up, it just... was, and I have to deal with whatever the relationship--” She makes a face at the word. “--we have is, because if something goes wrong then everything can go wrong, and then Paris is in danger.”

She shakes her head, realizing that she’s rambling. She continues staring quietly at the ground, then releases the tenseness in her shoulders.

“But...” She looks up to meet Luka’s gaze. “I did choose you, Luka. I finally got to choose something for me, and the only thing I regret about it is everything that I can’t choose. You chose me and I chose you and...” She almost laughs. “It’s weird that it’s that simple for once.”

He’s clearly pieced the puzzle together by now but hasn’t quite processed the result. She can see the whisper of her name on his lips and she smiles at him, taking a step back and spreading her arms wide.

“You’re my real partner, Luka. You get me, you care about me, and we’re similar but different and it’s great.” She swallows, feeling her nerves building a little but pushing forward enthusiastically nonetheless. “So I want to make a choice for us, because we trust each other and I want to give you something no one else has.”

Then, she closes her eyes, taking a breath and briefly tightening her hands into fists.

“Tikki, spots off.”

[kevindayisafrog]

Part 2 of the post that was supposed to be a one shot inspired by @knandersonart ‘s art on Instagram (I have too many ideas for it to be left as a one shot, babe, I’ve got a whole book planned)

TW - abuse, anxiety and mentions of Dr*ke

Kevin had been at Palmetto for over a year now; alone and in fear. He tried hard to fit in with the upperclassmen but his short temper and constant panic left a huge gap between them that no one had tried to fill. He tried to get close to his father too but he knew that he’d never be able to tell him who he really was to him; he knew that his dad would only turn him away like Riko said. Kevin tried to keep in contact with Neil but their texts and calls had gone from one a day to one every few months. Everything was falling apart and all Kevin could do was watch as he fought like hell to climb back to the top. And the top is where he is now, but this time the podium he’s standing on is for him only, Riko can’t pull him down. Until Kevin’s alone with his thoughts, then he remembers how small he is against Riko’s power and ruthless abuse. Kevin felt himself slip further into the darkness around him when the championships were announced, something to finally concentrate on and a place where he’ll finally be with his Neil again; even if they’ll be against each other.

Kevin stared blankly at the empty bus seat in front of him as he sat at the back of bus alone; distantly listening to the upperclassmen’s idle conversation as the foxes made their way to the banquet. He couldn’t sit still as fear warred with excitement in his tight chest. He placed his AirPods in and called Neil, knowing that he’d see him in less than an hour but couldn’t wait to hear his voice. He grumbled to himself when it went to the voicemail and hung up, choosing to listen to his music instead as he watched the scenery pass by in a colored blur through the window.

Kevin was last off the bus and he stood behind the other foxes as Wymack opened the storage compartment on the coach, passing their outfits to each player. Matt tossed Kevin his dark green suit before turning back and catching his own suit before it hit the ground. “Jesus, Coach, this cost me a lot of money”, Matt smiled despite his words and smoothed down his suit. Wymack retorted dryly but Kevin didn’t hear what was said as he already turned and made his way towards the stadium; his body buzzing with a distant memory of Neil’s body close to his. He pushed his way into the locker room with a sign reading: ‘Palmetto Foxes’ written in black sharpie. He quickly threw on his suit with his back to the others, ignoring Nicky’s wolf whistle as he moved to the mirror to smooth down his forest green blazer. “Where are you going, hot stuff?”, Nicky winked with a laugh as Aaron groaned and turned away from his cousin. “I’ll be on the court”, Kevin muttered as he left the locker room and walked as fast as he could to the court. It pained him to see a perfect court being used as a dance floor and dining area, but he wasn’t here to be disgusted. He opened the court door as he felt a stern hand on his shoulder causing him to flinch and duck down. “Don’t worry, it’s only me”, Wymack pulled Kevin back up and turned him so that they were facing each other, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay before you walk into the lion’s mouth”. Kevin looked up into his father’s eyes and blushed in embarrassment at the raw worry that he saw. “I’ll be fine as long as we’re not near Riko or Tetsuji”, he wrung his hands together and tapped his foot impatiently. “I’ll keep an eye on you, kid and if you’re worried in any way come straight to me, okay?”, Wymack gave a fierce squeeze of Kevin’s shoulder before pushing him through the door. Kevin turned away and made his way over to where the seating charts were. He ran his finger down the sheet until he found the Foxes’ name and made his way to the back table, freezing as Riko stood from their shared table. “Kevin, welcome home”, Riko announced in Japanese, spreading his arms in a vicious gesture of a hug. Kevin gulped and clenched his hands before taking a deep breath and making his way over to the table. “Riko”, he muttered as he sat down opposite Neil, relaxing as Neil wrapped their ankles together, “the rest of my team are just coming”. Riko barked a shrill laugh as he sat down and leaned towards Kevin, “me and Jean were just talking about how we’re surprised you guys made it into the championships, what with your small number of players”. Jean looked up and sent Kevin a subtle shake of his head, mouthing a small ‘I’m sorry’. Kevin sent a small smile back before turning to Neil, ignoring Riko’s annoyed frown. “Hi”, he whispered, running his ankle up to Neil’s thigh. “I’ve missed you”, Neil replied in French, reaching down and squeezing Kevin’s ankle under the table. “Hmmm, so we’re doing this now? Speaking other languages so I won’t understand”, Riko nodded slowly before laughing and curling a large smile, “your mother would be so disappointed in your disobedience. If you’d shut up we’d all hear her turning in her grave. Even though we’re so far away from her”. Kevin tensed and clenched his jaw, trying not to give Riko the satisfaction by showing his anger.

“Riko, it’s so lovely to meet you, Dan Wilds”, Dan led her team to the table and scraped her chair back, sitting down with her hand extended to Riko. Riko looked at her hand in disgust before shaking it with a fake smile, “I hope you’re looking after my Kevin for me”. Matt sat beside Dan and laughed sarcastically, “he’s not yours anymore, he’s ours”. Riko dropped Dan’s hand onto the table with a thud and turned to Kevin, “weren’t you just telling me how much you hated this team and that they’ll never win the championships?”. Kevin sat up straighter and smiled, “no, I wouldn’t say that and do you know why, Riko? Because although these aren’t the best players, they’re the strongest I’ve ever met. They use their teamwork to push back and fight to win their deserved place at the top. You won’t be smiling so wide when we beat you and win the championships”. Riko’s smile fell and he grabbed Kevin’s left wrist in an iron grip, “don’t fucking push me tonight, remember that you’re my pet. I won’t hesitate to put you down, do you hear me? One wrong move and I’ll bring your whole team down with you, see if you’re so brave then”, he growled in rapid Japanese. Nicky looked between the two before placing his hand over Riko’s and digging his nails in deep, “I’d advise you to take your hands off of him or I’ll break it off”. Kevin turned to Nicky in surprise and was shocked enough to let his long lost genuine smile get plastered across his face. Riko pulled his hand away and glared at Kevin, “you’ve deluded these jokes into thinking that they’re better than they are. You’re getting cocky, Kevin, what will you do when they turn you away like they inevitably will?” Andrew elbowed Neil to get him out of the way and leant on Neil’s hunched back, “now, now, Riko, let’s not throw your toys out of the pram. I told you what I’d do if you messed with my family, do you really want to test my word?”. Riko tensed and slowly turned to face Andrew, “One more word, Andrew and I will get an old friend over to play with you. Drake must miss you”. Andrew flinched at the name and let out a long medicated laugh, “try me” he growled. Neil shouldered Andrew off and stood up, ignoring Riko’s glare, “I’m going to the bathroom, try and fucking stop me”. The foxes watched in silence as Neil left the room without a single glance back to the table. “Your pets aren’t as loyal as you thought, are they?”, Dan asked and she tapped her nails against her glass, “must suck when everyone turns their back on you”. Riko growled in annoyance, hating how he’d lost control of the situation and his words were thrown back at him. Kevin stood up quickly, knocking his chair onto the floor with a loud clatter as he left the table, half running to the bathroom and ignoring Wymack’s shouts of concern.

“Neil?”, Kevin called into the seemingly empty bathroom, pushing open the stool doors slowly. “I really did miss you”, Neil walked around from the corner of the room and stood on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Kevin’s neck, “I actually missed your irritating shouting and obnoxious presence on the court”. Kevin let out a small huff as he brought their lips together, smiling into the kiss of ‘hello’. “I hate you”, he whispered into the kiss, knotting his fingers in Neil’s orange hair. “Sure you do”, Neil replied, purring as Kevin tugged lightly on his hair. Kevin pulled away first and stared down into the ocean blue eyes before him, the auburn eyelashes fluttering his eyes back open. “Neil”, Kevin started but Neil let go and walked away to the sinks, “please just hear me out”. Neil sighed and turned on the tap, “Kevin, not now, can we just have this moment? Stop trying to ruin everything”. Kevin frowned and followed Neil, leaning his hip beside him at the sink, “I don’t ruin everything”, he muttered. Neil placed his hands under the tap, refusing to look up at his pouting boyfriend, “you know that’s not what I meant”, he sighed and dropped his hands to the bottom of the sink, “I can’t come back with you”. Kevin groaned in annoyance and pushed off of the sink, pacing his way back to the stools, “why not? Why the fuck not, Neil? Nothing is stopping you and even if something was you wouldn’t care anyway”. Neil turned the tap off and slammed his hands against the ceramic, “for fuck’s sake, Kevin, are you being obtuse on purpose? If I could go, I would. Do you think that I enjoy the nest? Do you think I like you being so far away from me? Because I fucking don’t, it’s hell”. Kevin laughed flatly and crossed his arms, half turning away, “you can come with me, you just don’t want to”. Neil pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed heavily, “why do you always twist things? Listen to me”, he dropped his hands and marched over to Kevin, pulling his arms apart forcibly, causing him to flinch, “listen, I hate not being without you, okay? And I know it makes you cringe when people talk like this, but I can’t live without you and I hate to admit, I really do, but I need you. I’m trying so hard to get out of there so you’re not alone anymore and Andrew’s helping too. We’re so close to getting out, we just need to be patient and wait a little longer before we can be with each other again, okay?”. Kevin dropped his head and Neil stood on his tiptoes so their foreheads could touch. “I hate being alone”, Kevin whispered, “I’ve never been alone before. When my mom found out who Tetsuji really was, who his family were, she exiled us to Ireland and never let me leave her sight. She took me everywhere with her, not even trusting teachers to look after me at school. But she left to go to the shops in the next town whilst I was sleeping and Tetsuji paid people to stage a fatal car accident. After that day I was with Riko and he wouldn’t let me leave his sight either, so I don’t know what to fucking do. I’ve never been alone before”, he sniffed and let out a small whimper. Neil gently placed his hands either side of Kevin’s face and placed a small kiss on the tip of his nose, “you’re not alone, I’ll never let you go”. Kevin lifted his head and turned to look away, “but you are leaving me alone”. Neil shook Kevin’s head and pressed his own head against Kevin’s ribs, “I’m trying, I really am”.

They stood in silence as Kevin hesitantly wrapped his arms around Neil’s shoulders. “I know you are, I’m sorry, I’m just scared”, he placed a gentle kiss atop Neil’s head and rocked him side to side slowly. Neil hummed and looked up, taking in his boyfriend’s worry filled eyes, “that color looks good on you”. Kevin frowned and looked down at his suit, “I wanted to wear red but I don’t really suit it”. Neil snorted and pulled away, turning to walk to the bathroom door, “you suit red, Kevin, trust me”. Kevin watched as Neil left the bathroom with a wink and couldn’t help but feel alone once again, a heavy feeling weighing on his chest. “Thank you”, he whispered with a small smile to the space Neil left behind as Riko kicked open the door with two broad shouldered Raven players behind him.

[librarianandguardian]

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

« Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt5)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and betrothed are asses.

“Please I am begging you, not Coruscant. Take me anywhere else, do whatever you like, just don’t send me back to him.” You ramble as you're pushed down the stairs from before and forced into a small cell.

“Sergeant's orders,” The clone shrugs. And tears fall freely, whatever awaited you as Nythons wife has now become impossibly worse as a result of your running. You try to stifle them when you see Tech again, and your hands grasp the cold bars.

“Tech!” you screech like a madwoman, “you said you would help me, you said you knew him!” You see him guilty look away, and pull a crate of medical supplies into his arms.

“Wrecker I need you on the deck, Crosshair needs a stim and you know how he gets…” He says to the larger clone, who must go by Wrecker, making the one called Crosshair presumably the one injured in your saving. Wrecker nods and follows him towards the stairs.

“P-please,” You try once more, standing in a cell, with a ruined dress, gunpowder in your hair, battered muscles and tears leaving the only trails of clean skin on your face.

Neither of them even turn to look back at you.

For whatever kind of terrible wife you may have made, you’re a decidedly worse stowaway. You groan at it all, not even having made it a full cycle hidden on the ship before being caught. And the pain from having smashed into the hull of the vessel itself hurts so much, like all of your muscles are stuck in a permanent cramp. You flop onto the wooden floor of the cage the clones have thrown you in, but refuse to cry again.

Above you, an intense argument starts.

“Wield that thing at me again Tech and you’ll lose your hand.” Someone snaps

“It is a stim Crosshair not a kriffing viroblade!” Tech’s voice is easily discernible for that of a clone. You realise it’s softer, and has less of the gritty depth and rather more of a thoughtful comforting sound. So even when he’s frustrated he still sounds kind.

“Wrecker you’re fucking terrible at stealth.” Crosshair, you presume, states.

“Just take the needle vod you need it!” a deeper set voice chimes in.

“Give it to the girl, she hit the hull hardest, not to mention the iron hold Hunt’er must have had on her.” You hear him sigh after that.

“Cross don’t start something…” Tech warns,

“It’s Volim -kriffing- Nython.” He seethes. “Maker forgive us if we give her back to him.”

“I was not aware you had suddenly become so religious…”

Tech.” Crosshair cuts in, “He used to collect Lekku for fun-”

“I know.”

“And Zabarak horns.”

“I know.”

“How many of our brothers did he kill?” “Crosshair I Know!” You hear Tech shout before everyone falls quiet. You hear mumbling next but can't make out what's being said. “Take the stim or don’t, see if I care.” You hear him slam something down before you hear and see footsteps approaching.

Tech makes his way back down into the brig, walking past your cell to put the medpack back on the furthest wall. And you let him walk by you again before saying something.

“Tech?” You croak out, thinking he will keep walking up the few steps back onto the bridge, except he stops, does not turn to you, but stops nevertheless. “I do not know much about Clones…” You admit gulping. “But at least I thought mandalorians had more honor.”

“And do we look like mandalorians to you?” He counters, not with malice but almost as a genuine question.

“Your armor did.” You say and you watch as he turns. Blocking the light that's coming in from the door, his auburn hair and curious eyes that he knows usually get the better of him. And underneath the baggy pants that are tucked into his boots, you see a flash of the under most shirt, a faded symbol on his chest beneath the white layers of loose fitting cloth.

“How do you know what clone armour looked like, and yet not know anything about clones?” He enquires earnestly.

You take a deep breath thinking about how to phrase your answer, and considering you’re on borrowed time you think it's best to keep it short.

“Lekku and Horns weren't the only things he collected.”

His face plummets before he bolts out of the brig.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

The Captain of the havoc Marauder has just about finished his first flask of whiskey when one of his soldiers comes bursting through the doors to his private rooms.

“Have you ever heard of knocking Tech?” Hunter Inquires, his heavy coat draped over his sleeping area and his hat thrown somewhere amongst his pile of clothes. Leaving him in rolled up sleeves, his red bandana and threadbare pants that desperately needed replacing. From here tech can see his traitor branding on the inner arm and the pirate sigil necklace that he’d nicked from Hondo some years back.

“Captain - Sarge…” Tech says quickly knowing his brothers are probably nosing their ways over here sooner rather than later. “I want to propose an alternate route.”

“To Coruscant?” Hunter asks with a raised eyebrow.

“The Alderaanian trading post.” He states firmly. “We’d be there in a matter of rotations, the wind and the currents are in perfect conditions. She’d be out of our hair in days…”

“I’m not harbouring a fugitive, soldier.” Hunter cuts him off glaring.

“She is not a fugitive.” Tech argues, turning around as Crosshair and Wrecker join him in the captain's quarters before turning back to his captain. “That woman has done nothing wrong.”

“He’s right.” Crosshair says agreeing with someone for once. “The Corellian Run is a straight shot to Alderaan.”

“This is not up for debate soldiers.” He grits out.

“We are not giving her to that monster sarge. We’re just not.” Everyone turns to Wrecker in shock, despite his appearance and love for all things gunpowder, Wrecker is always the one to follow orders, to do what needs to be done - never challenge the hierarchy of power.

“Is this a mutiny?” Hunter threatens,

“This is us not throwing an innocent woman into the hands of Volim Nython!” Tech exclaims and even before Hunter can respond the room erupts.

Well, Clone Force 99 was never really known for its teamwork skills anyways.

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You cast your eyes towards the boards that make up the ceiling of the brig when the yelling starts. For all the subtle differences between each Clone it becomes impossible to pick out who is yelling at whom and what they are arguing about.

Well, given your current predicament maybe it was not too hard to pick out what the crew is shouting about.

With a soft sigh you lay flat on the floor of the ship and close your eyes, rocking with the creaking of the hull and your ruined dress splayed out creating a wonderful contrast to the dark wood floor. Perhaps the sea was not as terrifying as you thought. Your fingers explored the wooden floor, gently as to not catch any splinters. Cracked nails brush over hardened wood and cascade over a cold nail. And you stay suspended in what could be your last moments of peace.

After a few moments of trying to block out the shouting your brain catches up to itself. And you roll to one side, fingers moving quicker now as they try to find that same spot. Where everything else is flush, flat barely a difference between warm wood and the cool metal circles of nails firmly embedded one stands taller than the rest.

You stop your frantic hands before they make contact with the rusty nail, it’ll be tricky to work out of the dry wood, and your likely to cut yourself or start an infection through a split fingernail. So you pivot on your bottom, put your hands behind your back for stability and give the nail a calculated kick.

Your foot does little more than bend the thing, and push your skirts up in an unladylike manner, but with this new angle you can safely work the chunk of metal out of the floorboard. And later rather than sooner you are now sitting on the floor, one rusty nail richer.

The obvious call to action is to pick the lock and you doubt your abilities before quickly realising there’s no better plan in sight. And so you push yourself against the steel bars and crock your arm at the worst angle to start working on the lock. Every large wave threatens to snap your shoulder from its socket. Your knees are bruised, your arm hurts so much, and with every fall you were reminded of the not too pleasant experience from earlier and how much your ribs still hurt. And in some combination of luck, movement of the nail, a crash of a wave and maker only knows what else, that final wave sends the nail into place and you crash through the door to the cell as it swings open.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001

[maranello]

Fio my dear! How we feeling about Ferrari this weekend? I wasn't able to watch practises and quali so I need your opinion 🙏

RACE: Turkish Grand Prix of 2021

TIFOSI MOOD OF THE WEEKEND: feeling good! but we must manage our expectations. 

THUS FAR:

Carlos has to take a grid penalty for PU4 so he is starting at the back of the grid no matter what.

PU4 is good, but, as all members of Ferrari have said to interviewers: it is not a gamechanger. Aka, we cannot expect them to be fighting for wins just because they have a new engine that works well. 

We had a really good Friday. Charles was P3 and P2 in the practice sessions. Carlos focused on race preparations and did a lot of aero set-up testing in FP1 (rather similar to 2022 regs...). Data showed performance gain. Perhaps we got happy too quickly because the Red Bulls were struggling a lot with set-up.

Saturday rolls around. Charles P4 and Carlos P5 in free practice 3. Red Bull is back up. I think this is more realistically where we are expecting to be. The pace still looked good, but I think everyone got a bit stir crazy from yesterday so they found Ferrari underwhelming and lacking pace today in comparison. 

Qualifying was pretty fun for us. Carlos went through to Q2, gathering some good data for the team and also pushing out Daniel in the McLaren out of Q2 which is good for constructors P3 fight reasons. Charles’ Q1 and Q2 was not the easiest of time, and he had me worried on a number of occasions. Charles was struggling on the mediums (which we want to start with) with the downforce he had and also had some issues with traffic. Ferrari had a massive brain moment where they sent out Carlos just to give Charles a tow to ensure that he makes it to Q3. Charles put out a banger of a lap at the very end of Q3 to jump up to P4. After Lewis’ penalty, it means Charles will start P3. 

THOUGHTS:

I have a good feeling about the team this Saturday. Despite not having that same amount of pace that got my hopes up, I am very encouraged by the teamwork!! I think they really sat down and learned from Sochi. Not only did they find a solid brain cell, the collaboration between drivers and engineers was going a lot better imo. Xavi was responsive to Charles’ input, and I think the communication is improved. I don’t know how to say it right, but just. I think the teamwork process this weekend has been improved, and it bodes well not just because they have a better chance of making the right calls to balance between the pit wall and the drivers but also learning from mistakes. This is a good feeling for the long-run is what I’m saying. 

The performance of the car is improved by PU4. It is a quicker engine and gives us more power, but it doesn’t solve all the problems we had with the car. It does give us a boost though! I think it can help us be more consistently ahead in the mid-field, and when the time calls for it, I think we may keep up more pace with Red Bull and McLaren in a race. Not to say the PU has what it takes to beat those, but I’d say our odds look better now if it came to that, and that in certain situations and metrics, we can definitely keep up. (Especially with how Charles really somehow manages to wring that extra bit of pace out the car often.) Our pace looked consistently good over one lap and race simulations in the practices, so I think that’s still a step forward. Maybe not as much as I really want to think, but still. Good for us. 

Shoutout to the work that the engineers and mechanics have done! Both at the factory and at the track. We came in with a good baseline to work with and they’ve been good since! Quali might look like a bit of a step back, but I think it’s because we’re focusing on the race and also the conditions were very not ideal with the possibility of rain looming. Tomorrow should be dry though, and we know we were quick on Friday.

Starting P3 doesn’t guarantee a podium in Turkey, but as long as nothing goes wrong, I am expecting a solid haul of points for Charles and think Carlos has a good chance at making it through the pack and into the points! 

I’ve felt pretty good going into this weekend even before we saw the cars on track ngl....so take that as you will. 

[jadoue1999]

The X-Men and the member they lost - Chapter 7

Summary:  The X-Men are finally back home, but there is much to talk about and a long road to go before everything goes back to normal. If they ever do.

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, 

Chapter 7: Grief and bonding

The X-men stared at the speedster in stunned silence as he stopped in front of them. Wanda was avoiding their gaze, obviously ashamed. She spoke with Charles, the telepath trying to see if she would be a good fit at the school.

“I want you to understand, Ms. Maximoff, that the last time we spoke you seemed very keen on keeping your world. While I understand why you did it, I expect you to find a better way to cope than… this.” He said, motioning to the town around them.

The woman nodded. “Yes, you’re right. It never should have come to this.” She quickly glanced at Peter with glassy eyes, “for what it’s worth, I never meant to bring him here. I was just so sad that my boys would never meet their uncle… I suppose my powers acted without me realizing.”

The wheelchair bound man slowly nodded his head in understatement before agreeing that it was better that she’d go with them. Erik had to agree. He might not have been thrilled about having his son’s captor living with them, but with this world and the lack of mutants; it was certain her future would be bleak. Government officials were already coming in, just waiting for an opening to take the woman away. Being stuck in isolation, unable to use their powers other than the occasional scientists’ visits was something he wished on no one. Plus, he could see how much Peter wanted her by his side. He’d tolerate her presence, for his son.

They marched through the portal, this time it was a lot faster and easier on the mind. Erik felt slightly nauseous, but it went away quickly. He noticed with a smirk how amazed Charles had been at the ease Wanda created an interdimensional portal. The school was overjoyed at seeing everyone back in one piece. The students flocked Peter with greetings and questions. Though it was the professor who took most of the questions. The speedster was apparently still a little confused about what had happened. The students were all wondering who Wanda was. The group settled on saying that she was a powerful mutant who had accidentally lost her way. Erik could see that the professor didn’t want to scare anyone.

Jean, Scott and Ororo suddenly ran to Peter and squeezed him in their arms. They were all laughing in relief, telling him how glad they were to have him back. Peter was... uncharacteristically quiet. He who was always babbling could barely keep up with all the attention. Erik could see him starting to fidget and anxiously looking around. Finally, the crowd of people seemed to be satisfied with the few answers they got and started to leave the group alone. Charles took the other members of the X-men with him, probably to fill them in on what had happened. Wanda stayed by herself, looking disoriented as ever. Hank offered to give her a tour, which she accepted after sharing an anxious glance with Peter. Soon enough, they were gone, leaving father and son together. The metal bender walked over and gently put a hand on his shoulder. He could see how nervous he was. “Hey, are you okay?” The speedster looked at him and nodded, “oh, yeah... just tired. It’s been a while.” Right. He had been in a small town living with four other people for who knows how long. Of course, coming back to a manor full of overexcited children would be overwhelming. “How long was it? For you?” He seemed lost in thoughts for a few seconds before he shook his head. “I’m not exactly sure. I’d say a few days, but it felt longer than that.”

They walked together to an empty room, where they could talk in peace. The sun was just setting, bathing the room in a soft glow. They sat opposite of one another, neither of them talking for nearly a minute.

“So… you’re my dad,” finally spoke up Peter. He chuckled to himself, “you know, I imagined this conversation a thousand time and yet I have no idea what to say right now.”

“Well, I know,” he smiled at his son, “thank you for releasing me from the Pentagon.”

Peter seemed a bit flustered at the sudden recognition, but a wide grin soon adorned his face. “Ah, it was nothing. Ask Charles or Hank, I literally did it for fun.”

Erik smirked in amusement; the speedster really was something. He wasn’t sure what he could tell him. It was no doubt his mother told him about their lineage, so she probably told him how they met. He probably knew most of his life story whereas he didn’t know much about him.

“Tell me about you?” he asked him. “I’ve missed so much of your life; I’d like to know you properly.”

Peter hummed, probably trying to decide what to say. “Uh… What do you know? Just so I have a starting point.”

“Well, thanks to Charles, I know that your real name is Pietro, and that you had a twin, but I don’t know much else.” He knew, of course about the Pentagon break and about En Sabah Nur, but he had left the mansion too quickly to learn anything else about him.

The speedster seemed taken aback by the mention of his true name, but quickly masked his surprise with an awkward grin. “Right… well first off, I don’t really use Pietro. It’s, uh, it’s what Wendy used to call me. She never really accepted to call me Peter other than in public and she’s, uh, she’s been gone for awhile, and I try to not think about it so much. So, I hope you don’t get too offended. I mean, that’s why I never mentioned it to anyone else before, cause I prefer Peter anyway; I’m trying to keep that part of my past in the past and-“

“It’s alright,” said Erik, interrupting his rambling. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll use Peter.”

That seemed to satisfy the young man, who visibly relaxed in his chair before changing the subject. “Thanks. Anyway, I didn’t really do much, just a year ago I still lived in my mother’s basement and stole anything I wanted.” He looked around him before grinning. “You know, the explosion that destroyed the mansion?” Erik nodded, him and Jean had taken quite a few days the rebuild the whole thing. They had both needed a few days of recovery after using their powers for such an extensive and detailed task. “Well, I’m the one that saved everyone from the explosion. They were all saved without any whiplash.“ His face suddenly darkened, “except for Scott’s brother. He was already vaporized by the time I got inside.”

The speedster continued his rambling for a few minutes, Erik nodding along and trying to keep up. He was glad that Peter was finally back to himself. The conversation turned to what had happened in Westview and he simply had to ask.

“Charles told me your mutation gave you protection against telepath.”

“Sure does!” he answered, knocking on his head twice with a smug grin. “No telepath goin’ in there any time soon. My thoughts are sealed.”

He might not have known much about his son, but he was well aware that he was trying to deflect the subject. “Yes… well I wanted to ask because we never got a real explanation. How did you end up with the necklace? How did it even work on you?”

Peter’s fingers unconsciously brushed against his neck as his eyes became distant. “Agnes… she, uh, she had this freaky book that told her how to deal with people like me. She said there had to be a physical object with the spell, so it could keep up with me.”

Erik hummed as he put his hands under his chin, it was a start, but there had to be more. “She didn’t do anything else?”

“Well, the spell was painful. It’s hard to explain, but I was trapped in my worst memories until it found an opening and it could take control of me. Definitely not something I’d recommend.”

Peter kept fidgeting as he recalled the events, so Erik decided to stop asking about it. Perhaps a happier subject would help. “Tell me about the twins, they seemed nice.”

A smile grew on Peter’s lips and Erik knew that he had hit the right spot. The speedster started talking about how amazing they were and how much fun they’d had. He gleamed as he recalled helping the younger speedster with video games and how he had teased them about stealing all their candies. And while he now felt bad about it, the teamwork they had done to deal with Kurt and Raven was something he felt particularly proud about; going as far as to refer to them as ‘mini X-Men in training’. That made them both smiles.

They talked for a very long time; the clock was nearing midnight. Erik could see his son starting to doze off and he let him sleep while he went to grab a book. He hadn’t been in Wanda’s world for long and he himself felt drained, he couldn’t imagine how tired his son must have been. He had been reading for about twenty minutes when a sudden gush of air made him look up to the now empty chair. He heard movements in the kitchen and decided to join him on his midnight snack. Peter was reaching into multiple cupboards, fixing himself what looked to be sugary cereals and various other things. With the quantity of food, he was taking out, he must have been very hungry.

“Are you alright?” Erik asked as the silver blur kept going around the kitchen.

“Sure am!” he answered, not looking at him. “Just needed a quick meal, I did that all the time when I was with Wanda.” He opened the doors to where the various dishes were and turned his head slightly to the side. “Now boys, what I’m about to show you is the ultimate combo-“ The speedster stopped himself before he could finish his sentence. He slowly turned to Erik with pained eyes and looked around.

“Peter?”

His son seemed like a shell of himself as he ever so slowly put down what he was holding. His eyes scanned the counter that held too much food, even for him, before he looked back at the man with teary eyes. “I, uh, I have to go.”

Before he could protest, Erik was alone in the kitchen. The food was back to where it had been, but the speedster hadn’t touched the dishes he had just taken out. The metal bender sighed as he realized his son had taken out 3 bowls. There would certainly be a long road ahead before Peter could heal from his grief.

***

Peter was glad to be back, he truly was. 

He got his team back, his mind back and his father knew about him and accepted him even with his rotten luck concerning family. Nothing had felt better than having his friends jumping on him and telling him how glad they were to have him back between two laughs. Then the overdue discussion he had with his dad had been great. He really couldn’t ask for a better ending. However, his life in Westview had been so unique, so unlike anything he’d ever known before. There wasn’t the fear of being discovered because Wanda had made sure that they could use their powers without people staring. And there was no constant threat, save from Agnes, but they didn’t know at the time. Most of all, he felt complete. The overwhelming grief he had felt ever since Wendy had died wasn’t present because his twin was with him. She had never left in the first place. And he not only had his sister with him, but she was also married. Sure, her choice of husband was strange but who was he to judge? Vision had been pleasant company, even though they hadn’t talked much.

Then... then there were the boys. He had never thought himself as parental figure material. Hell, he was older than most student, but could still fit in better than most. He wasn’t exactly the most mature person. Still, he never thought he’d be a good role model. Then, he got into Wanda’s freaky tv show where he was the cool uncle that messed around with his nephews. He could play with them and do all the mischief his heart desired. He loved them and they loved him. Nothing felt as freeing as running through the crowd at Halloween, stealing candies, smashing pumpkins, and covering everyone in silly string. Then, the twins developed powers. The joy he felt when he saw Tommy suddenly breaking into superspeed mode made every happy moment in his life seem bleak. 

He and Wendy had grown up thinking they were unique, anomalies even. Then, she had died, and Peter thought he was alone. Until Charles, Hank and the claw guy had found him and asked him break out his father. He was happy to find that he wasn’t the only one with powers, he simply wished Wendy could have known as well. Then he moved to the mansion, where there were so many mutants. He felt at home. Yet, he never really was able to make connections with anyone, their world was simply too slow for him. But that wasn’t the case with Tommy. The twin was able to keep up with him and see the world at his pace. When they played games, he didn’t have to go agonizingly slow to give him time to react. When they wanted to go somewhere, they just went there while having a conversation, the child wasn’t frozen or in need to be moved. He just kept up with him. Peter, or Pietro as he had called himself, had loved taking out the soldiers with him, telling him what to do and working with Tommy like he had never done before. Him, Wanda, Vision, and the twins. They had been an unstoppable team and he truly believed that they would be together forever. Until they weren’t. He still remembered the panic he felt when the boys had started to fall apart as Wanda was freeing everyone. His mind had been jumping between his chill persona and the real him breaking through. It wasn’t fun.

He had meant to have a better talk with Wanda, but life at the mansion was always busy. Well, that and the fact that they didn’t really speak when they found themselves together. They felt contempt just sitting in silence and watching a movie together. It was clear neither of them was ready to speak about what they had lost. There was the occasional reference to something Vision or the twins would have liked, but even that was too much sometimes. Instead, they got to know each other. Wanda had been shocked when he told her that his real name was Pietro, and he could just tell that she saw her true brother for a second. One big difference between him and Wanda was that he had lost Wendy at 16, while she had lost her Pietro at 26. Peter hadn’t exactly dealt with her death, but he had learned to cope with the pain. Wanda only had a few years, and the wound was still pretty fresh.

One night a few weeks after they came back, Wanda had suddenly stopped the movie and turned to him. “What did Agatha do to you? When you went for repairs?”

Peter was confused for a second before concluding that the witch had probably used a fake name when she came in the town. “Not much to be honest. She did some freaky magic to suspend me in the air and basically blackmailed me.” He looked at her with a frown. “But you knew that. What did she to do you to make you so worried about me?”

The redhead squeezed the hot cocoa mug she was holding. “She made me revisit everything that made me create Westview. My parent’s death, my brother’s death, Hydra’s experimentation, and my encounter with Vision’s body. And we revisited the night I woke you up and…” She didn’t complete her sentence. Wanda was staring off in the distance as she recalled the intervention. “She threatened to hurt you and the boys if I didn’t cooperate. I also feared she might have done a similar thing to you.”

Peter thought back at the dreaded moment the witch had threatened his nephews and the confusion he felt when she spoke about why she menaced them and not him. “Nah, apparently your magic protected me, so she couldn’t really do anything. The rugrats were the real targets.”

Wanda pressed her lips together in a sad smile and nodded. They both stayed silent for a few seconds before she broke the silence. “I miss them.” Peter turned to the redhead; her eyes were fixed to the liquid in her mug. “Vision and the boys, I still have days where I think they’ll just… be there, you know? I imagine that Tommy and Billy are with you and Vision is about to cross the door and wish me a good morning.”

The speedster agreed with her statement, it was hard to keep going in a school full of mutant children without his mind trying to catch a glimpse of his nephews that never really existed in the first place. 

“You know,” he started with a smile. “I had never met another person with superspeed before Tommy. Felt nice to not be alone, even for a moment.” His grin faded as he stared at his hands, a burning question on his lips. “If you could, would you go back to Westview?”

She closed her eyes in concentration, momentarily lost in thoughts. She shook her head as she turned to him. “In retrospect, no.” she sighed, “but if I could see them again, without hurting anyone, I would.”

Peter hummed at her answer, he could see the logic in her thinking, of course, but he wasn’t sure he could resist the temptation. Even if it hurt people. Good thing he wasn’t the one that got reality bending powers. She continued the movie once more and they absently watched as they thoughts were consumed by memories of their long gone family.

***

Notes: Thanks for reading!

Next chapter: One of Wanda’s spell takes an unexpected turn!

[aperrywilliams]

New blurbs-series: 10 days to my birthday!! (Day 8)

(Not my gif)

Author Masterlist - Series Masterlist

My birthday will be in 8 days from now. So I’m going to celebrate myself with 10 Spencer Reid’s blurbs. Enjoy!

Day 10 | Day 09 | Day 08 | Day 07 | Day 06 | Day 05 | Day 04 | Day 03 | Day 02 | Day 01

Day 08: Spencer Reid hold your hand for the first time.

When you made the decision to apply at the BAU, you knew so well what you were getting into. You knew you would see horrible things and meet despicable people. Moreover, you knew you'd have to get into the minds of serial killers in order to stop them. That was basically your job. But human behavior never ceased to amaze. Even after working on Aaron Hotchner's team for over a year, it seemed like a every week you will face an even more twisted case compared to the last one.

One of the first things they told you when you were accepted to the BAU is that you shouldn't take cases personally. They told you that it’s okay to empathize, but that once the case was over, you have to move on. You tried to do that as best you could, but like your co-workers, there were times when was too hard to do that. There were cases that affected you more than others. There were unsubs who managed to settle in your mind more persistently than others.

John Rogger was an example of that kind of cases for you. He was a murderer of young women in Alabama. When the BAU was called to investigate, Rogger already had more than 15 deaths in tow and at least 3 more women kidnapped. In addition to identifying and arresting him, the purpose was to be able to save the abducted women alive. That meant that once arrested, the team had to apply several and intense interviews to obtain information, but Rogger didn’t say a word. So far, only Hotch and Rossi had conducted the questionings. According to the profile the team built, they concluded if someone of the opposite sex and young questioned him, a better result could be obtained. Given the physical resemblance and closeness of age to the victims, Hotch decided that you were the best option to do that.

So you found yourself locked in a room with one of the most despicable murderers you had ever met, trying to obtain information. Hours and hours passed, where your patience, your temperance and your profiling skills were tested. To gain his trust, you said things about yourself that you wouldn’t have told anyone. You had to 'empathize' with a serial killer. You navigated his disturbed mind revealing details that you would have preferred not to know. Every time you took a break between questioning, Spencer made a point of checking how you were feeling and if you needed anything. He knew - or at least suspected - that this case was draining what little energy you had left so far. In each new interrogation, Rogger tried to find out more about you, your family, your private life. It was as if he wanted to get into your mind in the same way that you tried to get into his. You felt vulnerable, exposed. Even knowing that the one who was handcuffed and locked up for life was him and not you, every time his eyes fell on you, you couldn't help but feel fear. Even so, you didn’t waver and continued with the interrogations until after 2 intense days, Rogger broke and you managed to obtain the kidnapped women’s location.

The team quickly mobilized to the rescue. When you were about to put on your FBI vest to go with them, Hotch stopped you.

“You won’t go with us. You'll stay here at the station until we get back,” he told you immediately as he saw how you were getting ready, fastening your weapon in the holster attached to your belt.

“But sir, I have to go. I'm the one with the most details about the location and the things that can be found there…”, you tried to convince him. But Hotch wasn’t going to back down on his decision.

“I told you (Y/L/N). You will stay here. The extraction team is now ready. You've done enough, it's not safe for you to go with us”. Clearly Hotch was trying to prevent you from collapsing on the field, already knowing that Rogger had absorbed all your energy, but you didn't see it that way, and you interpreted it as punishment for some mysterious reason that you didn't know. According to you it was unfair, you wanted to save those women as much as everyone else, why deny you that option?

Reluctantly you nodded and watched as the whole team rushed out of the police station towards the location where they expected to find the women kidnapped by Rogger. With a lump in your throat and a defeating feeling you sat on one of the benches that were in the hall of the station. You felt useless, why you had to sit and wait while everyone was doing their job? The same job you could be doing.

You were deep in thought when Spencer sat next to you. You hadn't even noticed that he hadn't gone with the team.

“Spencer... I thought you would go with...,” you trailed off in confusion. Spencer looked at you and shook his head.

“I think this time it’s better I stay here. Just like you,” he replied. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you too think I would be an obstacle in the field? Like Hotch?”. You asked sadly. Spencer frowned and rushed to reply.

“I don't think that (Y/N), and I’m sure Hotch doesn’t think that either,” Reid said, staring at you and trying to read your micro expressions.

“So why did he leave me here? I don't get it...,” your trembling voice revealed that you were about to cry overwhelmed by frustration.

“Because you've already done all the work you could do (Y/N), that's why,” Spencer replied simply. You looked at him with teary eyes trying to understand what his words were referring to.

“What does that mean? Does it mean that I have to wait and do nothing?...”

“Do you think it’s nothing you participating in Rogger's arrest and spent two whole days in and out of that interrogation room, doing everything in your power to break him… and finally achieve it? I think you did enough (Y/N),” Spencer pointed out, not losing eye contact with you.

“But... what if they are not found alive? If they can´t save them?...”. Just thinking about that scenario made your stomach clench.

“It would be a bad outcome, no doubt, but sadly it’s no longer in your hands (Y/N), nor in mine. I know waiting is excruciating, but there are times when it’s inevitable. We must wait and trust the team will do the right decisions on the field. That's as teamwork works”.

Thinking of Spencer's words you could only sigh again and come to the conclusion that he was right. You put your whole heart in for hours and days to get some clue to help the case. You just wanted it not to be too late.

Your mind tried to convince itself that you should wait for news. But your body told you otherwise, you couldn't stop bouncing your leg, you sighed uneasily every two minutes, with the fingers of one of your hands you squeezed the fingers of your other hand, you rocked back and forth on the bench. Your entire body expression screamed unease and disturbance. Spencer was silent to respect your own process, but seeing you like this hurt him deeply. He just wanted you could regain some serenity and peace of mind, but he also knew that the body was capable of betraying you over and over again, ignoring your own will.

Without saying a word, one of his hands that was resting on his knee reached for yours and gave it a gentle squeeze to remove it from its task of digging your nails into your own palm. The first contact startled you a little, but you gave in to the touch and let him guide your linked hands, making it rest in the space of the bench that was between you. After squeezing it slightly, with his thumb he began to trace soft patterns over your knuckles, looking for to relax your fingers. The warmth of his hand and the softness of his touch made you give in as the minutes passed and the tension in your body managed to dissipate in part. Your breathing also returned to a fairly normal rhythm. Both in silence. But it was not an awkward silence. It was the waiting you both had to face. It was fate that was no longer in your hands. And that was the first time Spencer Reid held your hand and taught you about there are times you just had to let it go. And that there are times when you don’t have to wait and face destiny alone.

[remmushound]

Bay/rise 24!! Sorry it ends quite suddenly; the fighting went on for longer than I anticipated. @selfindulgenz @brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88

Content warning!! Panic attack and violence are featured!!

Four solid turtles landed with solid thuds on the rooftop. Leo was thankful for the quick approach of sunset that cast the city into the shadows they learned to live by. One quick look around the rooftop revealed nothing out of the ordinary as far as Leo could see.

“Thought you said she’d be here Don?” Leo sighed. It wasn’t that he disliked going out of his way, not when the life of an April was at risk, but they couldn’t risk coming out when the city was still active.

“She should have been.” Donnie whispered, checking his wristband as his forehead wrinkled in concentration, “I don’t have footage of her leaving…”

“Well, you see a teenage girl anywhere?” Raph growled.

“Man, I was excited!” Mikey snapped his fingers, “This would be like the third chick I know! Hope she thinks I’m cute!”

“Who wouldn’t think you’re cute, Mike?” Raph snarled.

“Aw, thanks bro!”

“Guys!” Donnie said, his goggles now pulled over his eyes as he looked around the area. “I think I figured out our issue.”

The air around them was filled with the stuff. Like pink cloud of cotton candy betraying the faintest traces of Dimension X. He gave the goggles over to Leo so the leader could observe for himself. Leo became unusually quiet as he eyed the strange cloud, then gave the googles back to Donnie and stalked off to the corner of the roof to get what little privacy he could to mull over his thoughts.

“What’s Samurai Jack over there bummed about?” Raph huffed, his voice betraying the concern for his brother.

“There’s traces of Dimension X here.” Donnie explained.

“So? We already knew Bubblicious was back.” Raph shrugged.

“Yeah— we knew he was in his dimension, not that he could get into ours. If he can come through again, then he might be trying to bring the technodrome through.”

“So? We beat him once!”

“And Mikey was nearly cracked like a walnut! I’d rather not go through that whole situation again— it hasn’t even been a year!”

“Well we know what to expect this time so it shouldn’t be that difficult!”

Donnie opened his mouth, but then quietly reserved. “Leo— I— if Krang’s in the city still, I could probably track him?”

“What are the chances of that?” Leo asked, almost imperceptibly soft.

“Uh… not very likely… but if there’s even a small chance then…”

“Then you should try. Go ahead, then.”

Donnie nodded and set his tracker to work. 

The wait was the longest ten minutes of Mikey’s life. Granted, every minute usually passed like an eternity to him, but it was always a lot harder when he got like this. Always without warning, it could seize him and squeeze him tight like some icky, cold octopus. Or maybe it was like… the thing he couldn’t think of. Maybe he was still there and that’s why he couldn’t breath and that’s why his chest felt tight and painful and why the world was suddenly spinning circles. He wanted to sit, so he did.

“Hey bro, you good?” 

Raph’s touch was innocent enough, just a simple wrap of his arm around Mikey’s shell and a gentle squeeze, but for Mikey it was agony. It was like fire shot through his body and he just needed to run because if he didn't then his mind was screaming at him that he would die—

Donnie’s announcement came just in time to save Mikey’s life. “Hey Leo, I got a hit!”

That caught Leo’s attention. “Great. Where to next?”

***

“I’m only going to ask this once more. Where are the turtles?!” Baron Draxum demanded, his voice booming with a robotic enhancement.

“Last I saw, they were in Nunya.”

“Nunya?”

“NUNYA BUISNESS!”

Cassandra laughed and pointed at Baron, making the yokai glare back at her with angry eyes. “You walked right into that one! Just like ligma!”

“Ligma? Who’s ligma?”

“LIGMA BALLS!”

Both Cassandra and April laughed that time. April’s eyes were forever trained on the orb. April had long since given up on escaping the restraints but she was still bubbling with fury at seeing her precious orb in the grip of someone so villainous. Cassandra had the artifact strapped safely to her belt. Yet still, for some reason, April laughed along with the foot soldier that could destroy everything she protected at the slightest whim.

“You are really getting on my nerves, little girl…” Draxum leaned over April with a threatening scowl, his lion-like features visible even through the new armor that covered him. 

“Why are you doing this?” April knew what she was doing. She had spent so long with Donatello that the drama and the tears came to her like the flick of a switch, the emotions on the outside not at all matching the inside. Outside, she was a mess of tears and distress while inside her mind was calculated and almost cold as she considered every possible escape. “I thought you changed…”

Draxum laughed. A cold, chilling laugh with no warmth in at all. No care for the fate of the teen in front of him. Caring only for his own self-preservation and willing to toss everything and everyone aside to achieve the goals in his mind.

“You seriously think thousands of years of being evil and I could switch to being all sunshine and daisies because some pathetic failure of an experiment asked nicely?”

April couldn’t hide her rage, giving a battle cry as she tried to lunge out of her seat. Baron Draxum pulled away at the last minute and laughed as April topped over, unable to catch herself due to her restraints and slamming her face hard into the cold concrete. Her war shout turned into a painful cry as the impact reverberated inside her skull and rattled her to her core. It took a few seconds of numbness before pain returned to her tenfold.

“Oops.” Baron Draxum laughed, “Sorry.” He laughed and raised his hoof to give her another solid blow, but the impact never landed.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

Baron Draxum looked up just as a massive figure came from the sky in a flip, a powerful kick landing on his outstretched leg and making the sheep bleat in a pain of his own. All April could see from her position on the floor were a set of massive green feet, but she didn't have to wait long before the chair was lifted effortlessly off of the ground and back upright, her binds undone with a quick flash of a pocketknife.

“Hi, I’m Michelangelo.” The massive green giant gave a dopey smile and pointed to his orange mask. “Like, don’t be scared dudette I’m totally here to be your prince in shining armor! Uh. With no armor!”

“Huh. Okay.” April had seen weirder.

Like she were little more than a sack of potatoes, April was lifted bridal style and carried away from the conflict by the strange mutant calling himself by her friend's name.

“Where’s Krang?” Leo demanded, aiming his katana at what he perceived as a mutant attacker.

Baron Draxum stared curiously. “You must be the Leonardo of this world. Strange. I imagined you smaller!” With the enunciation of the word, Draxum brought a vine down upon the leader and whipped him hard against the soft of his chest, sending ninja flying backward with the force.

Before Draxum could revel in his victory, a bigger force slammed into him and knocked him off his hooves, sending Draxum into the air a few feet. The yokai came down hard but turned his slide into a charge. Raph had his sai ready, deflecting the blows that Draxum tried to land on him while landing a few punches when the opportunity presented itself.

“Master Draxum!” Cassandra was momentarily distracted and Donnie took the opportunity to jump out of his own hiding place and swing his staff toward her. Cass caught onto the attempted attack from the corner of her eye and swung her naginata to intercept the blow, locking her and the mutant into a struggle. 

Cassandra dug her feet into the ground as hard as she could, dragging the turtle as close to the other spar as she dared before putting everything she had into a sudden turn that caught Donnie off balance and sent him stumbling into Raph.

“What the Hell Don—“ Raph lost his focus and Baron Draxum jumped, slamming both hooves hard into the giants chest to send him knocking into Donnie once more. Then a sudden ankle-swipe from Cassandra had them both on the ground tangled in each other's limbs.

Cassandra ran to Draxum’s side and they gave each other a fist bump.

Leo charged back into the fray with a blow aimed at Draxum, but Cassandra caught sight of the attempted attack and shoved her master out of the way.

“Master!” 

Leo’s charge handed hard against her and he didn't stop charging until he had slammed her into the wall.

“Cassandra!” Draxum, despite his years of experience, was dumbfounded by the sudden rescue from the general. He looked behind him when he heard another battle cry and spun to catch Mikey mid-jump, the vines wrapping around Mikey’s shell securely before spinning him around and tossing him carelessly. Mikey ducked into his shell before the impact and didn't come back out.

“You children are getting on my nerves!”

Raph and Donnie untangled themselves from each other finally and charged Draxum as a unit.

“Good teamwork.” Draxum brought his vines neck-level with the charging brothers and knocked them both flat on their carapace with their own momentum.

Cassandra was still too preoccupied with her assault on Leo to lend any assistance to her master. Leo was caught off guard by how weaselly the general was, zooming in and out and up and down and, by the time any of his blows were ready, she was already somewhere else. He didn't want to praise the enemy, but damn was she fast!

“Would you— stop moving?!” Leo was starting to get frustrated.

Finally, the soldier kicked off his chest and landed a short distance away on her hands and feet, shooting up quickly and brandishing her naginata. “FOOT CLAAAAAAAAN!”

She charged Leo again and flashed her weapon, the blade just barely brushing across Leo’s plastron before he was able to pull back and dodge the attack.

“Do not waste all your energy at once, general.” Draxum’s voice was surprisingly steady despite taking on Raph and Donnie’s attacks at once. He deflected another one of Donnie’s attacks and once more the lanky teen stumbled. “You need to work on your balance recovery.” Another attack from Raph that Draxum had been anticipating. “You need to mix up your attacks!”

Raph growled, “STOP GIVING ME ADVICE!”

[thewritewolf]

After the End Chapter 14: Dancing

A day of video games ends in triumph

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@marichatmay

Enjoy!

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Whatever had made him run off so quickly last time must have put him in a good mood. He’d come back just a couple days later, all smiles with new video games in hand. So, as curious as she was, Marinette chose to let the subject go. At least for now. Cheering him up was her primary mission - she could needle information out of him some other time.

As for the video games, for once they weren’t playing some kind of fighting game. Maybe Chat Noir didn’t want to ruin his good mood with defeat at her hands or maybe he’d just been struck by a whim, but he’d arrived with some co-op games in tow. With her schedule for the following day surprisingly clear, she was free to play throughout the night.

Naturally, they were a perfect match and breezed through the game with the sort of teamwork you only get from being partners for years. Even if only one of them realized that. Before the night was over, they were watching the ending credits.

Ending credits with a very, very cheesy song playing. Chat Noir stood up and held out his hand to her.

“Can I have this dance?” He practically purred, turning up the charm to match the over-the-top song.

She rolled her eyes with a smile but nonetheless took his hand. He pulled her to her feet.

The room turned into a blur as they leapt into motion. Marinette couldn’t even really call it a ‘dance’. It was more like wildly spinning around the room as he pulled her along, her apartment becoming a kaleidoscope in the frenzied movements. Startled, she couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. What else could she do? It had been ages since she’d just cut loose and had a good time like this.

They didn’t stop until Chat Noir was laughing too hard to continue, collapsing onto a couch in a heap of giggles and breathing heavy. Every time they’d get themselves under control, they’d lock eyes and burst into another laughing fit.

And all the while, the power ballad played in the background.