#and she’s not half as physically fit and active in her lifestyle as someone like fuckin kiryu or majima so. yeah

[designernishiki]

I think I’ve said this before on here but. it really baffles and somewhat annoys me sometimes how people hear that a character is in their 40s-50s and immediately assume they should be weak or feeble or less attractive than they are. like. no. i think everyones just been brainwashed to think that attractiveness/health/worth is determined by how young someone is. why is it more understandable to view a teenager as more attractive and capable than a fit 40-50-something year old. kinda wack

[moxfirefly]

74 prompt and 57 kink: with The turtle of your choice (I’ll let you choose). Show me what love can be like and knowing someone is listening

Interesting, let’s see how we combine these two. So just cause I wanna try it out with him and since I haven’t gotten a request for him in a hot minute, I’m going with Mikey 👌

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Breaks were needed and very much welcomed. Fighting night in and night out wasn’t necessarily a lifestyle that left much for self care and rest. The idea for a break had been voiced by April and Casey had stepped up to offer a great place.

The family cabin had been passed down to Casey a few years ago, he hadn’t gone up to the place in a year. It seemed perfect for overtired and overworked family. A getaway for a few days to rest and recover. The group chat bombarded you no less, everyone begging you to join in for the weekend.

You smiled down at the chain of messages but you mostly obliged when Michelangelo had texted you in private. The whole crime fighting gig had placed some pressure on the relationship, mostly due to the fact that Mikey would show up so bruised up or tired or at other times, not show up at all. You tried not to worry and you did a fairly good job at it but you missed him. You missed so much about him.

Some maneuvering around work you managed to lock in the few days off to disappear up to Casey’s cabin with the rest of the guys. Upon arriving the cold greeted you first than April. Winter was approaching and soon enough it would be too umberable to deal just about any common activity.

A last hurrah felt right. Seeing Mikey and spending time with him did too. Being around family, your chosen family.

“Tell me there’s a fire already starting in there” You wrapped your arms around April as she laughed. “Yeah Casey already flexed his lumberjack ways for me, fires just started” You shivered and thanked her before scurrying inside.

The warmth hit you first.

Then Mikey’s body connecting with yours for a tight hug.

It felt like ages since that, too long for you and the feel of those strong arms around you melted every negative thought from you.

A resounding ‘Angel!’ was all you caught before being picked up and held tightly by Mikey. A sigh of relief left him and you could also feel the tension melt from his body. “I missed you so much” Mikey planted a kiss on your neck, the press of his lips there making your skin breakout in goosebumps. It had been too long and it embarrassed you how such a simple kiss could do that to you.

Once back on your feet you took him in. There was still evidence of lethargy in his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping too well. Some already healed bruises here and there but nevertheless that excitable puppy dog energy of his was there and it all centered around you.

Most of the afternoon was spent settling in, you and Mikey had gotten a room for the two of you adjacent to where Casey and April would be sleeping. Another smaller room would house Raphael while Donnie and Leo would crash in the living room area close to the fireplace.

Between dinner preparations, some drinks, the majority of the time was spent relaxing and just playing all sorts of card games. You and Mikey had been glued together for the entire evening. In some form or way he had been touching you and you as well towards him. His presence had instantly healed so much of your worries and frustrations and despite the distance it hadn’t deteriorated the relationship.

Midnight rolled by and by 2am you and Mikey were in the cozy room you’d be spending the next few days in. The dark expanse of forest looked beautiful in the night, you sat at the window watching the branches rustle and the warm mug of hot chocolate kept you from other thoughts. It seemed rather stupid to feel a level of nervousness at finally having a moment alone with Mikey and that accompanied by a room even more so. Your situation was tricky, given you had roommates and Mikey’s ever escalating super hero activities alongside his brothers. Creativity in spots was a speciality of his and on the rare occasions the Lair was untenanted for the night, well you could indulge more comfortably.

He had walked in after going to bother Raph, his own admission, and upon returning he closed the door and locked it. The click made you aware that there was really nothing or no one to interrupt for the time being. You opted for some idle chat to not feel so nervous. “Your eye’s looking better” You took a sip from your mug. Mikey ran a digit across the purple-ish bruise that was started to fade. “Oh, um yeah, gotta keep the baby blues safe ya know” He smiled as approached you. You smiled cupping his cheek and running your thumb below his bruise. “First thing I noticed” Your words held comfort.

“Noticed what?” Mikey was enamored with the physical affection, he hardly could get enough on a regular day. “Your eyes, they were just so blue” It was true no less, the memory of that night lived in Mikey’s head on loop. You hadn’t screamed, you hadn’t called him hurtful names. When he had saved you from a muggin you honest to god had just thanked him. The situation was bizarre no less and it was shocking to see your hero but you had sensed zero danger from his behalf.

From that moment on, being with Michelangelo was the safest you had ever felt. “Could’ve sworn it was the guns” He chuckled when you gripped his arm and squeezed. “That was second, can’t lie” The two of you remained there, comfortably close but a thin tension that throbbed. You turned to face him while still seated at the window. Your eyes mapped out every inch of him. The hand at his arm pressed at the middle of his plastron, Mikey swallowed. He hasn’t felt that hand touch him with so much intimacy in a while. “I missed you angel” He placed his hand a top yours. You bit your lip and looked up at him, your eyes spoke more than you could ever and Mikey knew the language by heart.

So he kissed you. He kissed you with a tenderness that reminded you of the first time the two of you had kissed. His lips had never felt better, the plump thickness to them enveloping yours so neatly you moaned. That seemed to hit him hard in the gut, the way his hands traveled to your waist and held you firmly. You stood up still mid kissing him and pushed the kiss into something more firm.

Foreheads pressed you felt his hands grip the hem of your sweater and lift. Those blue eyes drank in the sight of his most priced possessions. “Missed you so much” He was breathless as you unlooped the strings of his sweats. There was something about this particular area that always fascinated you, the change in skin and color, the path leading to an intimate area. You kissed his neck, fingers running across the slit that housed his member, the pressure strong and the sensitivity making his knees jelly. “Do you...?” Mikey couldn’t finish asking as you already nodded your consent.

You gripped his hand, half kicking off your pants when he didn’t move. “Mikey?” You looked at him, eyes so bright and wanting and he couldn’t help but greedily admire it. Admire you and want you so much. He pulled you back towards him and embraced you. The intimacy gutted you, the overwhelming need that accompanied Mikey to just hold you close and feel you. Your arms were around his neck instantly and the two of you stayed like that.

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.” It was soft and mumbled against your shoulder. Your smile was kind even as you stood back and held his face in your hands. “And so have you” The honesty flowed freely and Mikey beamed. “C’mere girl, I’ve missed you like crazy” You allowed him to pick you up and toss you on the bed, the fit of giggles only egging him on.

While the privacy was here, it sure didn’t mean that the entire cabin wasn’t occupied and your closest neighbors were in fact Casey and April. A flush of embarrassment hit you but soon enough Mikey had made his decent to his second favorite possession of yours. The feel of that mouth finally at your core left you in a daze. Mikey’s ability when it came to eating you out was something you never thought could exist and with each swirl and flick of his tongue it was evident that keeping quiet would not be a possibility. Especially when he begged to hear you, spoken against your clit with the warmth of his breath so close. You tried to cover your mouth but the feel of one thick digit entering you was your undoing. You’re sure and Mikey’s sure that the neighbors defenatly heard that.

There was a pride in that deep inside of Mikey. The idea of claiming you and having others know. For now he paid no mind especially when he buried himself inside of you and moaned long and deep. This never stopped being incredible, it’s exactly why he was always mesmerized by seeing your joined bodies. The contrast of skin color, the thickness of his memeber stretching you and causing you to cry out. Mikey could’ve cum like that just watching. “You’re so beautiful babe” He groaned thrusting into you. “Missed the fuck out of this, out of you” He leaned forward, engulfing himself around you, mouth at your neck. “Baby I want you to cream yourself all over me” The lewd words never seized to embarrass you, half the time Mikey barely would utter a ‘damn’ but this was the effect you had on him.

The bed protested and the headboards thumping was indicative of the activities going on. The most you could do was avoid Casey and April’s gazes at breakfast tomorrow. Right now you were, for lack of a better term, getting dicked down by your boyfriend after a dry spell. “Fuck fuck, oh fuck!” You gripped Mikey’s sides before letting your hands run towards his rear. Being filled to the brim and having your boyfriend absolutely spill filth into your ear was exactly the things you needed. “Yeah come on, for me baby, gonna do it for me? Gimme a show” Mikey sucked a bruise onto your neck and his quickening pace had your hand scrambling for your clit. “Yesss fuck” Mikey watched, hips trying not to loose the rhythm he knew would send you off.

You came with a loud moan that had Mikey’s name wrapped around it. If everyone heard it was at the bottom list of your priorities. Riding this high was top on the list and feeling Mikey cum with a series of ‘fucks’ and your name was all you need to add to your high. You ran a soothing hand down his shell, feeling him shiver with the intensity of his release. Each kiss placed on his cheek a testament to your adoration. Mikey found your lips in the haze of it all, and lazily kissed you back.

[oathofoaksart]

YOUNG JUSTICE/DC OC: MUNCH “YELLOW JACKET” MARTINEZ

bio under the cut!

BASICS

Name: Taylor Martinez 

A.K.A: Yellow Jacket; Munch, Munchie, Jacket, YJ

Age: 16 [S2], 18 [S3]

Gender: Transgender Male 

Orientation: Homoromantic Homosexual

 Race: Metahuman 

Ethnicity: Afro-Latinx, Black-Colombian

Location: Dakota City, Michigan

Hometown: Dakota City, Michigan 

 Skin: Dark Tan, warm undertones 

Hair: Black 

Eyes: Dark brown; glow fully yellow while actively using metagene 

Height: 5’10

Build: Lean with sinewy muscles

Distinctions: Has a large collection of hoodies and jackets, specifically of shonen anime merch. 

 RELATIONS

Parents: Gloria Martinez and Jamal Winston, Danielle Seymore [step-mother] 

Siblings: Tori Winston [younger half-sister] 

Friends: Virgil “Static” Hawkins, Jacklyn “Ferro” Ericson @generalfandomsofthefreak, Raquel “Rocket” Irving, Eduardo “El Dorado” Dorado Jr., Jaime “Blue Beetle III” Reyes, Karen “Bumblebee” Beecher, Malcolm “Guardian III” Duncan, Asami “Sam” Koizumi, Tye Longshadow, Roy “Arsenal” Harper, Tatsuo “Irezumi” Sumioka [@Triskata], Bart “Kid Flash II” Allen, Gi “Riot/Geode” Flores [OC], Shizuka “Oni” Amachi [OC], Tim “Robin III” Drake, Forager “Fred Bugg”, Violet “Halo” Harper, Brion “Geoforce” Markov

Partner/s: Richie “Gear” Foley [ev.]

Misc.: Augustus “Icon” Freeman, Jefferson “Black Lightning” Pierce, Ivan “Ebon” Evans, See-More, the HIVE 5, the Meta-Breed gang, the Blood Syndicate

Affiliations: The Team, Taos Metateen Youth Center, The Titans [ev.], S.T.A.R Labs [formally] 

 PERSONALITY

Personality Type: ESTP-A [Assertive Entrepreneur] 

Temperament: Choleric-Sanguine 

Alignment: Chaotic Good 

Passionate | Social | Upfront | Risk-prone | Defiant 

 Smart-mouthed, openly opinionated, and with an apparent lack of volume, Munch quickly cements himself as the class clown in any group. He enjoys living in the moment, a truly free spirit with an infectious energy. He is the textbook extrovert, finding himself to be bored out of his mind if not sharing with others, leading him to have quite the large group of friends and acquaintances. He’s notorious for poking fun at anything and anyone, but has no problem sincerely apologizing once he realizes he might have taken something too far. 

As a hero, Munch takes after his namesake, the Yellow Jacket wasp. Quick, nimble, and particularly aggressive, Jacket revels in the comic book hero lifestyle of kicking butts and taking names. His energy blasts aren’t his only weapons, he has as much fun slinging insults and burns as he does physically taking someone down. He certainly enjoys the attention of being a hero in a celebrity sense, but Jacket sees his role as a chance to inspire others to fight the good fight in any capacity. 

Hot-blooded as he is, Munch struggles with controlling his emotions. He can be easily frustrated, especially when things aren’t as straight-foward as he is, and blisteringly fierce when angered. It takes an ungodly amount of coaxing to get him to let go of past grudges due to his tendency of being bullheaded. 

 ABILITIES AND WEAKNESSES

Metahuman Biology: Metahumans by standard are more durable than humans. While not by much, Jacket exhibits increased strength, speed, reflexes and resilience. 

Plasma Manipulation: Jacket’s metagene allows him to create, shape, and otherwise manipulate plasma matter

Plasma “Stingers”: By shooting short blasts of plasma energy, Yellow Jacket creates his signature “stingers,” the potency of said stingers can vary from shocks to explosions. 

Variants include plasma beams and large spheres, but they currently require more concentration and stamina to use

He can also use his stingers to push him off surfaces as a kind of super-jump and can sustain limited flight mobility

Plasma Shields: Jacket can create small shields, enough to deflect low to medium powered attacks. Large shields require significant effort to shape and contain, once he’s made one, he’s stuck sustaining it. 

Inventory

Flight Belt: Jacket can fly thanks to the inertia belt made by his mentor Icon, based off Rocket’s Inertia belt. Since it was not made of the same material as the original belt, it allows only for flight and a decent powered body aura. 

Goggles: Jacket’s goggles feature different kinds of vision including: Telescopic, Microscopic, Infrared, and X-Ray

 Weaknesses and Limitations

Energy Stamina: Jacket stands the risk of overexerting himself if he pushes his plasma control too far. The reason why he tends to stick with short blasts is because they take much less energy to conjure. Attacks such as beams, energy spheres, and large defensive shields can potentially wear him down to unconsciousness if the strain is too much.  

High Metabolism: Similar to that of a speedster; Jacket’s plasma energy tears through his calorie reservoir. He needs a rather high end amount of food to sustain himself properly or else his energy suffers. 

 HISTORY

16-year-old Jamal Winston and Gloria Martinez figured trying to force their relationship made having to take care of their newborn far more painful than it had to be and called it quits. They continued co-parenting with both opting to drop-out of high school, Gloria a fulltime mother and Jamal picking up a fulltime job. Eventually the two managed to assuage any resentment towards each other and made steps toward genuine friendship, both turning out to be equally dedicated and loving parents. 

Taylor, named Clara at the time, enjoyed school. Not so much the actual studying as the playtime and socializing, but he was a bright student. In middle school he discovered a love for track and kept at it when he entered high school. Taylor was doing well, but struggled with his self-esteem in connection with fitting in with girls. He’d always been masculine and known a tomboy for nearly all of his childhood. His parents never had a problem with that, but he was picked at by other family members. It wasn’t until high school where Taylor discovered himself as trans, which both gave him answers he’d been looking for and terrified him as he had no idea how to go about this with his family. 

The topic of LGBTQ+ matters rarely passed through his household with his mother or with his father and step-mother. None of them openly expressed homo or transphobia, but Taylor had met enough extended family anti-LGBTQ+ and that stopped him from broaching the subject. Still he began looking into subtle ways to get a "head-start" on transitioning, including buying a binder and teaching himself natural voice changes. 

But Taylor was publicly outed during a family get-together, when a few of his younger cousins rifled through his belongings and brought with them the attention of Taylor’s uncle. When the situation turned into an all out yelling match and nearly physical, Taylor ran off. It would be the last anyone would see him for the months to come. 

While wandering around Dakota City, Taylor was abducted by the Reach and experimented on, the stress and torture he endured all the while activated his dormant metagene. He was eventually rescued by a team of young heroes while deep in the Western Pacific Reach mobile base, recognizing a past classmate, Virgil Hawkins. The two stuck close out of familiarity as they were eventually shifted over to S.T.A.R. Labs in Taos. 

They spent a month or so under the eye of Dr. David Wilcox, building resentment over being treated as lab rats alongside Tye Longshadow, Eduardo Dorado Jr., Asami Koizumi, and Nathaniel Tyron. It was during this time that Taylor’s commonly used nickname of ‘Munch’ came about because of his extreme appetite due to his metagene and at that point Taylor hadn’t chosen his name yet. The group, sans Nathaniel, then came to agree their stay at S.T.A.R was over and escaped. 

Their party was joined in by Jacklyn Ericson, unknown to them a hero known as Ferro and Team member, and were soon approached by Lex Luthor who offered them security in exchange for favors against the Reach. Little under two weeks later, the gang were fighting their way through the heart of the Warworld to rescue the captured heroes caught in stasis. Munch was on board with Nightwing’s invitation onto the Team, he’d always looked up to the Justice League and heroics called to him, but left with the others at seeing Arsenal’s dismissal despite him leading the rescue. 

Munch wouldn’t involve himself with heroes until their group until the League reached out to Jacklyn; they needed as many hands on deck. The Reach had activated field disruptors around the world which would eventually tear Earth to shreds if not shut down; Munch was paired off with Rocket to shut down the disruptor in Chile. Munch couldn’t hide his joy at being paired with Rocket, he’d been a fan of hers ever since she started off in Dakota City as Icon’s protégé. The two got on well and Rocket extended another invitation onto the Team stating their hometown could do with another hero, this time Munch accepted. 

He would take on the mantle Yellow Jacket and when Rocket’s former mentor Icon returned to Earth, was taken under his wing as a mentee. He and Virgil, who had also accepted the invitation onto the Team as Static, became the new generation of heroes in Dakota City. 

Just in time too, as from the shadows rise a threat spreading across the city’s metayouth, the Metabreed. 

  NOTES

Munch does eventually make it back to his parents, who have been been running themselves ragged organizing search parties for him. 

Because of his color scheme and insect motif, Jacket tends to be confused as Bumblebee’s protégé instead of Icon’s. Not that it’s cause for insult, but Karen and Munch note they wouldn’t make good partners. 

Munch comes to find out of another super in the family, although not of the heroic kind. His step-cousin is member of the H.I.V.E 5, See-More. 

He enjoys various shonen anime, occasionally reading the manga if he likes the anime enough, his favorite being the Dragon Ball franchise. He makes a nod towards this during the escape at S.T.A.R when Virgil asked him if he could blast open the door. When Munch’s first few blasts don’t cut it, he tries a larger beam in the only way he knows how, via Kamehameha.

Yellow Jacket has become very active on social media and has a notable following, much to Icon’s annoyance. 

Munch has recently taken up being a peer counselor at S.T.A.R Taos alongside Ed Jr.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 6: Year - A Warriors Body

The (half)lifestyle Danny (half)lived was bound to affect him in many ways; some more visible than others. He was a fighter after all, and with enough time a fighter is gonna look like one.

Tucker pats Danny as they begin walking to school, “man it’s gonna be so weird being back huh?”. Making Danny chuckle, “tell me about it”, sighing and rubbing his neck, “and what with the lack of classes there’s been so much more time for hunting ‘n stuff. I’m gonna be so jittery just sitting in pointless classes for hours on end”.

Tucker laughs and grins like an idiot, knowing that was an understatement. You’d think the kid would take it easy when given a break, but no. Instead he basically fell face-first into fighting everything. And if there weren’t any fights then he went off training. “You just don’t know how to relax anymore I think”.

“Eh, you might have a point there. Jazz says I’m becoming an adrenaline junkie”.

Tucker gives him another pat and deadpans, “she’s right”.

“Fuck you”.

Tucker just laughs at that before poking Danny’s bicep, “though all your fighting sure has done you some favours”, attempting at flexing himself but just looking kinda ridiculous, “now if only I could pack on muscle that fast! Then the ladies would be all over me!”.

Danny rolls his eyes with a small smile, “you would if you actually did literally any physical activity outside of when you absolutely had to. Plus, you know my body’s more manipulatable”. Which was a blessing and a curse... and also the reason he was going to wear exclusively baggy clothing for the foreseeable future. He’d rather not have the fact that he rather looked like he low-key lived at the gym be on display. After all, he was supposed to be the weak little loser that blended into the background and slacked off; there was no logical reason to an outsider for him to pack on muscle, especially as much as he had. But hey, at least he hadn’t hit a growth spurt on top of it; though that would probably happen sometime in the future. Ugh.

Tucker rolls his eyes and puts his hands behind his head, “still man. You probably look way better naked than me”.

Danny actually pauses on the sidewalk at that and stares at Tucker, “Ancients, you’re such a pervert”. Tucker just looks back and winks at him, making Danny shake his head and start walking again. Smacking Tucker’s stomach as he catches up, “maybe you should focus less on how big your arms are and more on how big your stomach is, Mr. Eats Five Burgers In One Sitting. You’re gonna wind up like my dad... just shorter”.

“Ouch, low blow. But what can I say? All that tasty juicy meat is just begging to be devoured. How can a guy say no to that?”. Tucker digs in his pocket and flips out his PDA, “oh and Sam's still not gonna be back today”.

Danny groans, “great, so first day is gonna be even more shit. Wonderful. And don’t we have gym first block? Zone, the Universe just hates us, huh?”.

Tucker grins, pocketing the device, “like that’s anything new. But hey, at least you probably won’t die this year”, pointing at him, “and you’ve got some bully protection now too”.

Danny quirks a very confused eyebrow, “huh?”. Making Tucker roll his eyes disbelievingly, “dude seriously? There is literally no way you fit in a locker now. Sure your horrible clothing choices-”, tugging on the mustard yellow sweater with a little green puppy pin on the bottom, “-makes you seem small, but Dash isn’t that stupid”, laughing and tilting his head, “sure is close though. As soon as he picks you up he’s gonna notice something’s off, even I know muscle weighs a lot”.

Danny blinks at him, pausing his walking again, “Tuck pal, just how heavy do you think I am? I’m barely a-hundred pounds”. Tucker pokes his arm, “bullshit. I think you need a new scale”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “dude, most of my muscle and stuff is ectoplasm-based. Just my built-up ectoplasm storing itself overtop of my bones and fleshy muscle. And ecto’s weightless, remember? Heck, it can be anti-weight or whatever; me having more ecto muscle makes me weigh less not more”. Tucker blinks, “huh, didn’t think of it like that”, and decides what the heck and promptly wraps his arms around Danny to lift him up. Easily noting that yeah, Danny really doesn’t weigh much. A-hundred might even be being generous.

Danny shoves him off as Tucker puts him back on the ground, “so ha, no Dash won’t notice”, looking at the ground a little worriedly, “though yeah, I probably won’t fit in a locker anymore. Maybe I could...”, glancing at his arm before shaking his head, “hmmmm yeah no, that’d just make me look fat”.

Tucker chuckles, “what? Trying to redistribute the ecto? Hate to break it to ya, but you’ve got way too much to be a skinny twig again”.

“Hey”.

Tucker points over his shoulder at the school, “it’s true and you know it. And it’s not like I was any better”, both of them chuckle at that before Tucker continues, “anyway, welcome back to Hell I guess. Ready for another year of suffering and Highschool inequality”.

Danny snorts, “and suitably started off by the worst class of all, which will probably involve both of us getting rubber balls to the face”. Tucker just snorts right back as they climb the steps to the doors that both of them kinda wanted to never see again. Especially Danny, not like he was ever going to actually need or make use of the crap the teachers shoved down their throats here. If he was more of a delinquent then he’d just drop out here and now.

But hey, at least the whole quartets lockers -yes, even Valerie’s- were all together this year. Small miracles.

Danny groans as the two boys push in the gymnasium doors, making a be-line for the locker room and hoping to continue successfully avoiding the entirety of the football team. At least in the locker room they wouldn’t be total jackasses, since they had some weird level of respect for the ‘sacredness’ of the locker room. Probably some weird sports guy thing.

Pushing? Fine. Ass slapping? For some reason, fine. Hiding someone’s clothes? Sometimes fine. But actually shoving someone into lockers, or giving someone a swirly in the locker room bathroom, or actually wrecking the gym clothes? Off-limits; and messing with the showers was only cool if someone was taking waaaaaay too long. It was weird but hey, at least it made the locker room something of a semi-safe zone. So long as you were cool getting mocked for changing in the showers or out in front of everyone. Chance to show off for the jocks, chance to get mocked for everyone else.

Tucker chills against the wall, waiting on Danny who always took stupid long to change. Dude had bandaging and scars to cover after all. Whistling and inspecting his nails, being the only one still actually in here besides Danny; as per usual. It was kinda weird, felt like they had just finished freshman year days ago and yet here they were again. Back in the same routine. Danny’s voice breaks through his thoughts, “uh, I think we -or more so I- might have a slight problem”.

Tucker sighs, at least Danny’s tone wasn’t serious which meant less ‘danger/ghost fight incoming’ and more ‘mild inconvenience or some general halfa weirdness’, “what?”.

Danny gives a very awkward chuckle, stepping out and holding his arms out to the side before looking down at his shirt, “I may have updated my wardrobe, but I think I may have forgotten something”.

Tucker blinks before sputtering and laughing, bending over a bit to wheeze, “dude, haha, that so doesn’t fit you anymore!”. Tucker absolutely forgot that Mrs. Testlauf was super serious about wearing fitting clothes, pretty sure Danny had too. She always went off about how it ‘showed the value and worth of a person and their progress’ course she’d always add on ‘and shows who the weak pipsqueaks are’. Laughing some more, “how did you even get that on? I get that the underaumour is, like, super-duper stretchy, but the shirt? Looks like it’s gonna burst apart at the seams!”.

Danny huffs, “again, more manipulatable. I’m ‘squishy’ remember?”, and crosses his arms. Both of them still and stare at the air at the sound of ripping; proving Tucker right.

Tucker falls on his ass laughing after a beat, “guess you have to ask for a new one now! Ha! Testlauf’s gonna be pissed”.

“Fuck you man”, Danny starts laughing himself though and glances around before just phasing off the shirt; yeah, he wrecked the sleeves. Stupid Testlauf and her stupid ‘wear your proper sizes or it’ll be detention for the rest of your life’ rule. Least the shorts were supposed to be a bit loose, not that they currently were.

Both boys’ jump a little at hearing a rather masculine female voice shout, “where the Zone is Fenton and Foley! Those two slackers better get their butts out here! Or they’ll be running laps all class!”. Danny and Tucker both panic a little at that, and justifiably so because talk about harsh. Promptly bolting out of the locker room, Danny with his ruined shirt in hand.

Unfortunately, though obviously, everyone is pretty much staring at them as they run out. Most looking to be partway through rolling their eyes but stop. Dash -because of course Danny would get stuck having gym with Dash- is the one to actually point shit out though, “Fenton? What the Hell happened to you?!?”.

Danny quirks an eyebrow, “huh?”, while walking over to Testlauf and speaking rather awkwardly, “I, uh, need a new gym shirt”.

Testlauf blinks, “like Hell you do”, and snatches the shirt. Holding it up and looking from it to the boy, clearly seeing that it’s torn and stretched out. Then giving Danny an almost happy appraising look, “well I’ll be, Fenton, so you do”, and gives him a clap on the arm that is absolutely a pleased one.

Danny blinks, confused, and looks to Tucker, who also looks confused, “what the Zone is happening here?”.

Todd blurts out, “what do you think? You have a bloody six-pack and the arms of an ox. Did you take steroids or something?”.

Danny and Tucker blink, then look to Danny’s chest. Danny instantly blushing a bit and attempting to cover up, belatedly remembering that Testlauf actually took the shirt, “uhhhh. No?”. Tucker has to turn away from everyone to laugh at Danny’s expense. Danny shoves him over for that; Tucker just lays on the ground laughing, not bothering to get up.

Testlauf tosses a larger shirt at him, “get that on and let’s see what you can do with those new muscles. Glad to see you ain’t no bloody wimp anymore”, huffing to herself as she walks off to get the balls, “to see youths shaping up, nothing makes me prouder. I couldn’t give a damn how he did it, kid’s not the type to go to unhealthy measures”. Danny, actually being able to hear her, blushes a little.

In the meantime, all Danny’s fellow classmates rush up and start trying to poke at him. He, of course, bats them off erratically; Tucker springing up to also try shooing people off from his best friend. The fact that Danny’s shirt is still practically skin-tight honestly doesn’t help; less so than the underarmour at least.

Dash scowls at Danny, while aggressively snatching up a ball, “seriously, the goddamn Zone Fenton. Weaklings ain’t supposed to bulk up”.

Danny glances from side to side before steeling his expression and meeting the bully's eyes, effectively deciding screw it, “not my fault you were too busy stuffing me into things to notice things were changing”.

Jesse blinks at him while joining the side Danny’s on, “so wait, you’ve been working out or some shit for a while and straight up no one noticed?”.

Danny shrugs, “it’s also not my fault no one cares to really pay attention to me and besides, I like being left alone”.

Testlauf blows her whistle, which of course results in Dash instantaneously whipping a ball straight at Danny. Which again, makes Danny decide fuck it, and just catches the ball nonchalantly. Dash scowls as Danny smirks, Dash walking off to the side.

Everyone on Dash’s side pauses for a second and glance at each other, before all silently agreeing to bombard the boy. Todd speaking while whipping a ball at him just like everyone else, “so this is why you always wear such baggy clothes huh? Can’t say I understand why or how though!”.

Danny just choosing to dodge with a sidestep this time, “because you people are dicks honestly. And my mom’s a black belt and knows more fighting styles than I can shake a stick at. How the Zone do you think?!?”. More than a couple nod to themselves while running around throwing and dodging.

Mikey, who just so happens to be trying to hide behind him, readjusts his glasses, “and don’t they want you to be a hunter like them? That’s a pretty physical job”. Emily shouting, “and Jack has totally tossed an RV through a wall before! So packing on muscle easily must be in your DNA!”. Danny isn’t about to argue against that, that might actually have something to do with it after all. Even if it was more his ghost halfs fault.

The rest of the game devolves from there, becoming more wild throwing and teenage shrieking than pestering Danny. Which Danny’s perfectly content with, though that results in someone getting practically thrown into him after getting blown back by a ball to the stomach. Which then results in Danny getting flipped over and throwing his ball way harder than he meant to. The entire gym pauses at the ball hitting the back wall and actually cracking the fake brick a bit.

Tucker bends over wheezing with laughter from the sidelines, looks like someone might have gotten a little too used to chucking round -though usually glowing- balls at beings that could handle being rammed by semi’s. Least he didn’t hit anyone and break their arm!

Danny blinks at the wall, “heh heh, whoops”. The few people still remaining on the other side honestly just look impressed rather than the more reasonable reaction, which would be fear and concern for their own safety; but Amity Park and CasperHigh were crazy like that though.

Mrs. Testlauf blows her whistle, “at that I think it’s a good time to wrap this up, before Fenton murders someone”, Danny rubs his neck at that while she points at him and continues, “learn self-control boy, these walls see enough damage as it is”. Which gets quite a few people to start snickering at his expense; Danny just nods awkwardly and blushes a bit. Learning self-control was generally pretty high on Danny’s priority list as it was.

Tucker snickers at him as everyone goes to clean up, “guess someones gotta relearn they’re surrounded by meek little regular old humans huh”, with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. Danny smashes his face into the wall, not hard enough to do actual damage though, “shut up, Tuck”; making a few people around chuckle.

Tucker grumbles a fake, “ow”, as he pulls his face off the wall after Danny let’s go of his head. Then turning to him and smirking meanly, pulling out his PDA. Danny eyes it and Tucker’s grin, “oh don’t you dare”.

“You started it”, and jabs him with the device, giving him a mild electrical shock.

A couple other teens blink and watch the two boys pretty much beat each other up slightly. Emily muttering, “I think I don’t actually want to know what the Zone the defect quartet gets up to in their spare time”.

Todd snorts, “you’re just weak”. She glares back at him, “I don’t hear you asking”. He waves her off, “now why would I waste my precious energy on that”, earning a few snorts from the rest of the class just as the bell goes off.

Jesse runs up to Danny as everyone’s walking to leave, pulling at the ugly yellow sweater, “what I don’t get, is why you dress like such shit if you've got it going on under there”. Danny shrugs, “just don’t care”, he did care, he cared that people didn’t notice literally any of his weirdness. But obviously that wasn’t working out here. Especially with Dash giving him a weird look and clearly choosing to not go and bug Danny. But maybe, judging by how no one really seemed to care beyond being impressed and he had had fun, maybe that didn’t matter.

After all, it had been a year since he died. Since he started fighting day and night practically every other waking moment. Since he started Highschool. Things had changed. He had. And try as he might, people were going to notice that. He wasn’t that same kid anymore. The little living weak wallflower Danny Fenton didn’t exist anymore, and there really was no point in trying to pretend that he did.

End.

[devilsfm]

          sh, LUCIANA AGUILAR is hanging around APEX listening to TELEPATIA by KALI UCHIS again. the BARTENDER is avoided for acting CUTTHROAT and GLIB, but also being quite ALLURING and POISED tends to draw people towards them. they could be described by LUSH LIPS GLOSSED RED WITH THE BLOOD OF YOUR ENEMIES, A PRACTICED SMILE PAIRED WITH SOUL PIERCING EYES. fitting for a 34 / 671 year old VAMPIRE, don’t you think ?  between you and i, rumor has it that SHE’S KNOWN TO USE GLAMOUR ON UNSUSPECTING HUMANOID SPECIES TO GET WHAT SHE WANTS.

➣    CONNECTIONS ,  PINTEREST ,  PLAYLIST ,  WANTED

GENERAL

FULL NAME.    luciana imelda marisol aguilar.

NICKNAMES.    luci.

AGE & BIRTHDATE.    appears 34, actually 671 ; unknown birthdate.

GENDER & PRONOUNS.    cis woman ; she / her.

ORIENTATION.    pansexual.

MARITAL STATUS.    widowed.

RELIGION.    book of the vampyr.

OCCUPATION.    bartender at apex.

PHYSICAL

HAIR COLOUR.    raven-hued brown.

EYE COLOUR.    dark hazel.

BUILD.    slim.

MARKS.    none.

TATTOOS.    a few minimalist tats on her fingers, just because she likes the look.

PIERCINGS.    lobes.

HEIGHT.    5′6".

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC.    unknown.

ALIGNMENT.    neutral evil.

HOGWARTS.    slytherin.

TROPE.    the vamp, bad samaritan.

POSITIVE TRAITS.    alluring, eloquent, intuitive, observant, poised, pragmatic.

NEGATIVE TRAITS.    calculating, censorious, cutthroat, formidable, glib, inquisitive.

HOBBIES.    bartending at apex, eavesdropping on every other species, moonlit walks around town.

BACKGROUND

PLACE OF BIRTH.    somewhere in afro-eurasia.

CURRENT RESIDENCE.    hell’s kitchen, louisiana.

NATIONALITY.    european.

ETHNICITY.    half filipino, half white.

PARENTS.   long deceased.

SIBLINGS.     none.

MAKER.    tba.

CHILDREN.    one, tba.

LANGUAGES.    english, russian, spanish.

QUICK HISTORY

HUMANITY.    she was born in the 1300s, raised within a royal family thanks to her parents being trusted workers to said family, which eventually earned her the lady-in-waiting title to her childhood friend. of course, during the mid 1300s, a bubonic plague pandemic ( aka the black death / plague ) mercilessly swept over their populace, wiping out at least 75 million people. this included her family as well as the royal family. whether it be a stroke of luck or curse, or both, luciana was given the option of suffering the same fate as her dearly beloved family and friends, or being turned immortal, which would effectively immunize her from any and all human disease. the stranger who offered a chance to escape was unlike anyone she’d seen before, and yet she felt completely at ease in their presence; she eagerly awaited a life free from the fear of death. if she’d known how bitter and detached she’d turn in the years to come, luci might have chosen death instead.

REBORN.    the hunger she felt in the beginning was insatiable and almost unbearable. she was horrified by her own yearning for human blood and how natural it felt to drain a victim dry; she felt like a monster. she was a monster. as repulsed as she was initially, luciana was quick to adapt, understanding her only means of survival and adopting the new lifestyle that came with this apparent immortality. life could be incredibly lonely at times, when she had no one but her maker to turn to, but as the centuries passed, she met a variety of people, fellow vampires, and other ... things. she even had a mate, someone she thought she could spend the remainder of eternity with, but they were captured by an unknown group and put to death by being exposed to the sun and then finalized with a stake to the heart. another devastating loss, but she moved on, and through her own experiences and tales told from companions met along the way, luciana was thoroughly educated on the handful of supernatural species walking among them. some friendly, and some obviously not.

EXISTING.     learning the ropes and knowing her place on the food chain molded our darling luci into the personable terror she is today. as a bartender at apex, she has eyes on whoever enters, whether they approach her bar or not, and her enhanced hearing allows her to gather information that otherwise might be overlooked. her inviting smile, though perfected over the years, is empty behind her eyes. she’s sneaky, conniving, and an all around coldhearted being; she’ll do whatever it takes to get what she wants. but that’s not to say she doesn’t respect and follow the law of vampires. mainly out of internal fear of the punishments to follow if caught breaking any laws, but still - she behaves on a needed basis. 

CONNECTION IDEAS

HER MAKER.    would need to be 671+ of course, but if there’s any takers, feel free to hmu!!

HER KIDDO.     ok so basically out of a moment of weakness, she actually felt sorry for someone and turned them. maybe she witnessed them get attacked by something (someone) she dislikes, so figured it would be like a kick in the face to have them as her little attack dog or something sdhgasdf anyways!! now she hates herself for it bc she doesn’t wanna be responsible for someone else lmao.

“NEST” MATES.     2 - 3 other vampires she lives with. they’ve all got their own unique ... quirks sdfhjkdg and they prob share humans / faeries to feed off of bc sharing is caring!! she most likely met them elsewhere and they all traveled to hell’s kitchen together to call their home. for now.

BLOODBAG.    somebody who lets her feed off of them from time to time, either out of the goodness of their heart or bc she used glamour on them and forced them to feel chill with it (yikes). preferably human??

NO STRINGS ATTACHED.    no expectations, just something fun to help both parties blow off some steam when needed. whether they also have some type of friendship (or maybe enemies to make it spicy) or keep it strictly business can be discussed.

LIFELONG ENEMIES.    being(s) she’s had scuffles with in the past (and/or present). they can be civil about it and just stay the hell away from each other at all costs, or they can be dramatic about it and actively seek the other out to throw down or just exchange petty words. maybe even the group who murdered her former mate??

ANYTHING.    again, i’m super open to just about anything, so if there’s an idea or certain connection you have in mind, please hit me with it!

[ri-ahhh]

bad day

MJ has a bad day dealing with her snotty coworker, who wants MJ’s promotion and her boyfriend.

4.8k

warnings: potentially triggering BD thoughts/language; smut; obnoxious amount of fluff cuz idk about you but I need some softness

“Hi sweetheart,” Grayson says with a smile as MJ stalks into the living room with a scowl. She plops next to him on the couch and hurls her heels off with a flourished kick, glaring at where they land a few feet away on the shaggy rug. His grin falls when he notices her pinched face and lack of returned greeting. “Rough day?”

MJ nods and curls into his side, silently pleading for him to wrap her in his arms. Grayson obliges immediately and pulls her into his lap, tucking her as close to his chest as he can. When MJ asks for physical affection as comfort, which isn’t as often as you might think considering that’s one of the best ways she shows love, Grayson knows she really needs it.

“’S the matter, Peach?” he asks gently with a kiss to her forehead. He smooths her long hair down and scratches his nails lightly on her thigh as she snakes her arms around his waist. “Chanel again?”

Chanel Marten is MJ’s coworker and a petty, idiotic thorn in her side; every bit the LA bimbo with the stereotypical Barbie looks and meanness to match. When she isn’t calling MJ fat behind her back or constantly trying to undercut her to their bosses in light of an upcoming promotion they’re both up for, she’s actively hinting at how much she disapproves of MJ and Grayson together. She’s been a fan of the twins for years, and doesn’t make it a secret that she is very much attracted to Grayson, which MJ finds partly amusing and wholly fucking annoying.

“God, how do you let him go to those influencer parties alone?” Was what she asked earlier today at their office. She was scrolling through the series of photos on Grayson’s latest Instagram post from the night before, looking his sexiest in that half-open linen button-down and his Louis pants. “I wouldn't let him out of my sight in public if I were you.”

MJ glanced over at her blonde coworker and couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to go through her man’s Instagram right in front of her. She didn’t acknowledge it, answering her question instead. “I trust him. And he’s not alone, he’s always with Ethan.”

Chanel twirled her hair and sighed, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. It was the end of the day on a Friday, and she probably could have gone home already, but had instead chosen to wheel her desk chair into MJ’s office across the hall from her own. For what, exactly, MJ didn’t know; they were far from friends, barely amicable coworkers at best. Antagonizing MJ was probably the start of a good weekend for Chanel.

Her suspicions were answered a moment later with Chanel’s next choice of words, her irritating vocal fry even more prominent than usual. “Yeah, but all of those IG models in one room, and you guys aren’t, like, super public. What if he wants a taste of what he doesn’t have?”

MJ squeezed her mouse in a death grip, but didn’t divert her gaze from her screen. “What are you implying, Chanel?” she asked irritatedly, her patience running at the thickness of a piece of paper for the bitch by then. She had already thrown MJ under the bus in their morning meeting with their bosses for something MJ’s intern had screwed up in their presentation, and MJ had caught her making snide comments in the break room about her ‘birthing hips’ and ‘thunder thighs’ to Annie the Asshole from Accounting. Annie was another coworker who, upon learning that MJ wouldn't invite Grayson along to after-work drinks simply so she could meet him, had immediately put MJ in her hypothetical burn book.

Right then, she finally had a moment to go back into their projections and fix what her intern Alessia had mistyped in the final presentation copy, and Chanel was only serving as both a reminder of her actions in the meeting and a distraction from her getting her work done.

MJ wanted nothing more than to be at home with Grayson by then, a tension headache creeping steadily up the back of her neck and into her temples. She had been the lead on this client presentation, so staying at the office until nine or ten at night hadn’t been an unusual occurrence lately; she was only glad by then that this was the end of a rough few weeks of work as soon as she was done fixing Alessia’s errors.

Chanel smirked but hid it as a simper of sympathy, clearly thrilled she was visibly getting under MJ’s skin. “I’m just saying, MJ, you’re super pretty, but, like, you don’t work out that much, right?I never see you in the gym here, or hear you mention going to one after work. I mean, Grayson being surrounded by girls who do fitness for a living would have to be like being in a candy store for him. We both know how much he cares about living a healthy lifestyle.”

She double-tapped the post, her too-long nails that were clearly trying to emulate Kylie Jenner’s or the like clicking obnoxiously against the screen, and sat back in her office chair. “I think if I were you, I’d quit this place and concentrate on building a following. Maybe try the fitness influencer route, yourself. It’s a pretty good trade-off, if you think about it; Grayson gives you clout, and you get snatched for him. And, you’d be able to keep a close eye on him. Boys will be boys, after all.”

That did it. Chanel Marten didn’t know her life, and she sure as hell didn’t know Grayson’s character. MJ finally took her attention off her iMac to give Chanel a glare that rivaled Lily’s ‘you’re dead to me’ look in How I Met Your Mother. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to hold herself back from acting on the overwhelming urge to punch Chanel’s newly-doctored nose.

Upon realizing MJ was done fucking around, Chanel’s smug smile slowly faded, until all pretenses were dropped, and the two women just stared at one another. No more fronts — not cordial coworkers anymore, but rival ones.

MJ knew what this girl was doing. Trying to make her insecure in her relationship with Grayson, and question her position in the firm so she wouldn’t go for the promotion. Chanel was as dumb as she looked if she thought either of these would work, but MJ had had enough of both her intelligence and her appearance being so blatantly insulted. She swiveled back to her computer and started doing the last couple of tweaks to the report that she had started before Chanel so rudely barged in.

“You know, next time you wanna pull a fast one and make me take the fall for an intern error, I’ll be happy to let Lacey know you’ve made us all rush this presentation by turning your last three sections of analytics in late, which is why I didn’t have time to review Alessia’s portion since I had to work your shit in last minute. I have time stamps on my email to prove it. Not to mention, the screen recordings of Snapchat stories of you at Saddle Ranch that someone showed me from the same nights you sent them. Should be pretty beneficial for my interview for Executive VP next month, don’t you think?”

MJ smiled and emailed the altered report back to her boss, Lacey, and made sure her computer was completely locked down before reaching into a cabinet for her purse and lunchbox. She stood and looked down at Chanel, who had her arms crossed tightly and her overfilled lips pursed so they were unusually pale and thin. MJ was going to leave it at that, but she was very much done being the bigger person, and a brief moment of pettiness came over her.

“And I hope you do find a man as good as Gray one day; maybe having someone as kind and real as him will make you less of a cold-hearted bitch.” MJ dug her keys out of her purse, motioning with her eyes from Chanel to the open door. “Now, please get out of my office. I’m ready to go home to my amazing, faithful, sexy boyfriend.”

Chanel scoffed and rolled her eyes but did as she was told, rolling back to her desk and giving MJ the cold shoulder as she breezed past her office.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her,” MJ whines into Grayson’s neck after relaying all of this to him. Her bravado and smugness towards Chanel had dropped almost as soon as she reached her car in the parking garage of her downtown office building. Her insecurities had crept into her brain to join her full-fledged migraine and made driving home in traffic an even bigger nightmare than usual. “She’s hated me since the day I started there, no matter how nice I’ve tried to be.”

“She’s jealous, baby,” Grayson murmurs at once, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You’ve come in and been there half the time she has, done the same job way better than her, and got recognized for it. Nobody likes to be outshone.”

MJ sighs and squeezes him reflexively as she moves on to the other half of Chanel’s dislike for her. “And it’s like getting bullied by the head cheerleader in high school. She basically told me I was too fat for you and that I don’t work out enough to ‘keep up with your healthy lifestyle.’” She lets out a little mirthless huff of laughter. “I mean, usually she says it behind my back to Annie the Asshole from Accounting, so I guess I should be appreciative that she at least had the decency to say it in so many words to my face tonight.”

Grayson sits in silence for a moment, seething internally at the thought that some dumb bitch who doesn’t know him in the slightest could have the nerve to talk to and about his girlfriend like that. He reaches for his phone on the couch next to them. “First of all, you're not fat, and I’d love you just the same even if you were. Second, give me all her at’s. I’m blocking this girl on everything.”

God, could the man get any more perfect? MJ sits up some and cups his face, shaking her head with a small smile. “No, no, it’s okay, Bear. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. If anything, I’d want you to post a thirst trap just so she can see what’s not her’s. What’s mine.”

“I think that could be arranged tonight,” he smirks, giving her a chaste kiss.

She attempts to smile back, but it turns into a grimace as her head gives a massive throb out of nowhere. “Shit,” she mumbles, pressing her fingertips against her temples. Grayson gives her a concerned look before she explains, “Headache.”

It takes all of three seconds for Grayson to secure one arm around her back and hook the other under her knees, standing and holding her bridal style. “Come on,” he says, like she really has a choice in the matter, and starts carrying her to their room. MJ wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles her head into his shoulder with her eyes closed to block out the evening sun. “We’re taking a bath, then I’ll order dinner to eat in bed while we have a movie night.”

MJ nods gratefully. As usual, he knows exactly what she needs. “Ratatouille?”

Grayson chuckles at the hopeful tone in her voice. Ratatouille is one of MJ’s ‘sick’ movies; something quiet and nostalgic that offers that weird feeling of peace that you need when you just don’t feel good. “Of course, Ratatouille.”

He sits her on the counter once they reach the ensuite bathroom and pinches her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, planting a warm, lingering kiss on her lips; not heated, but comforting. Just what she needs in that moment.

“Stay put,” he commands quietly. MJ agrees and starts to unbutton her blouse as she watches Grayson step into the closet, pulling out one of her favorite t-shirts of his and a pair of his boxers. He puts the folded items next to her on the counter and helps her untuck the shirt from her cigarette trousers, tossing it in the dry-cleaning pile before reaching into one of her drawers and retrieving her makeup wipes.

MJ sighs and closes her eyes as she lets him gently drag the fresh-smelling cloth against the skin of her face. They aren't part of her usual skincare regimen, but Grayson has been exposed to her routine long enough and is perceptive enough to know that they’re for late nights, or ones like tonight, when she just doesn't have the energy to do more.

It feels better than if she had been able to get herself to use face wash and toner and such, anyways. The coolness of it and pressure of his fingers feel wonderful against her eyes and cheeks, alleviating some of the pain there momentarily.

MJ flutters her eyes open when he’s done. “Thank you, Bear,” she sighs, which he replies to with a kiss before walking over to the soaking tub. She hops off the counter and unbuckles her belt and pants, then unhooks her bra and steps out of her underwear.

Her reflection in the mirror glares back at her, Grayson in the background fiddling with the knobs on the tub to get the temperature of the water just right. She watches his muscles ripple with the slightest movements, his abs outlined through the fabric of his t-shirt, and can’t help but focus back in on herself. There’s some extra squish around her upper thighs and arms that no amount of training would get rid of; a softness to her tummy that probably comes from her undying love of Oreos, which are her nighttime vice. When she compares the two of them in this intimate space, maybe Chanel was right…

“Stop that.”

MJ startles a little and looks up in the mirror from where she had unconsciously started pinching and picking at what were really the bits of healthy pudginess under her skin, to find Grayson standing directly behind her. The harshness in his tone makes her withdraw and blush some, embarrassed that he had caught her at such an insecure moment.

He wraps his arms around her middle, his open palms brushing against the skin of her belly. His touch both warms her insides and causes them to erupt in nervous tingles. For some reason, MJ has a hard time seeing the two of them like this, with her completely naked and him fully clothed. She isn't afraid, never with Grayson, but she feels incredibly vulnerable in a way she isn't used to with him.

Grayson presses a kiss to the back of her head and makes sure they have eye contact through the mirror before he continues. “I’ll be damned if I let some idiot girl who doesn't matter to either of us make you feel like you’re not enough, MJ. You’re perfect, you hear me? You’re perfect, and I wouldn't change one inch of you, inside or out. Please don’t pick yourself apart like that.”

His voice holds a mixture of conviction and sadness, and MJ bites her lip as she sinks her back into his chest, her arms folding around his at her waist. She brushes her palm across the crisp, dark hairs covering one of his forearms.

“I could work out a little harder, though,” she murmurs after a few seconds of silence. “And cut back on a few carbs.”

Grayson looks at her incredulously. She’s lean and athletic, but it’s impossible to have the juicy, natural perfection of her ass and those breasts without a little extra, which he actually adores; she’s the very definition of slim-thick, a beautiful personification of the word.

He isn’t sure what kills him more inside: to think he hasn’t made it abundantly clear to her that he loves every square inch of her body; or if girls, society, whoever it is, make her think that the hard work she puts into her physique isn’t enough simply because she has a body type that isn’t what Instagram or people like Chanel deem ‘perfect’.

Either way, he’s going to rectify things right this instant.

“First of all, MJ, I know exactly how hard you work out; I’m doing it every morning with you, five days a week at 6 AM, remember? I’m the last person to lie to anyone about how much effort they give in their fitness. I know how hard you push yourself.”

He spins her around and cups her cheeks in his big hands. His stomach withers and his heart hurts when he sees the faint glitter of tears illuminating her emerald green eyes, making him want to be extra sure his next words are heard loud and clear. “Second, if I ever see that family sized box of double-stuffed Oreos in the trash, not empty, I’ll have a meltdown wondering where the hell my girlfriend went. Please, MJ. Those girls at your work are miserable cunts who only want what they can’t have. Don’t bring that energy back here, on us. I love you, exactly as you are.”

MJ takes a moment and considers his words before relenting with a nod. He’s right. Chanel and Annie should be the last things she’s thinking about when she’s got the man of her dreams right in front of her, saying all the right things and bringing her back to reality with his sweet, supportive words.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, leaning in for a tight hug from him. “I love you, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gray assures, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let’s have a nice, relaxing night now, okay?”

MJ nods, pulling away enough from his body to grasp the hem of his t-shirt. He wags his brows playfully as he lifts his arms so she can pull the garment over his head, and gives her a quick smile before ducking down to kiss her.

She seems to be feeling slightly better, and a weight lifts from his chest at the realization. “Don’t distract me,” he mumbles against her lips after they make out lazily for a few moments. “Or our bath will overflow.”

“Don’t be so perfect, then,” she says back with a smirk, giving his ass a little swat as he returns to the tub and drops a Lush bath bomb and a chunk of bubble bar into the water.

While he does that, MJ opens one of the medicine cabinets. She isn’t big on taking pills, but she relents today and pops an Excedrin as her head pounded again. Once she swallows it with a handful of water from the sink, she starts to pile her hair into a bun, but is stopped by Gray’s grip on her forearm.

Her eyes had zoned out on a random spot on the counter, but at the pressure of his hand she looks up in the mirror to see him as naked as she is. “Don’t be silly,” he chides lightly, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You’re getting the full treatment tonight, Peach. I’ve got your shampoo and conditioner ready to go over there.”

He pulls gently down on her arm, and her hair tumbles back down over her shoulders and back as she lets him tug her to the warm, foamy water.

Ten minutes later, the Excedrin has kicked in, soft music from their ‘chill’ playlist plays through Grayson’s phone on the edge of the tub, and his strong fingers are creating heavenly relief for her as they scrub at her scalp. She’s totally relaxed in front of him, letting his broad chest and shoulders cocoon her smaller frame as her eyes droop and she moans lightly.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear, making her shiver despite the steaming water they sit in. She snuggles closer to his warmth. “And I’m sorry you have to deal with those assholes every day.”

It takes a moment for her brain to form the words, but she hums contentedly in reply. “It’s okay. Don’t know what I’d do without you, though, Gray.”

It’s so true. She has never been the girl to be codependent on anyone, let alone the man she’s in a relationship with, but Gray has achieved that honor in a matter of a year and a half. Probably earlier, if she were being honest with herself, but her adult life before him was a blur. She’s forgotten what it was like to not have him by her side, and she doesn’t want to imagine a scenario in the future where he isn’t.

He finishes washing her hair, lulling her into an even deeper trance when he moves her dark, wet locks over one shoulder so he can massage her neck with deep presses of his thumbs into her tight muscles. His fingers are nimble and dexterous, strengthened by his renewed passion for rock climbing, and are perfect for loosening the tension under her skin.

“Mmm, fuck,” she moans, not meaning for it to come out quite so pornographic, but she feels nearly orgasmic in the relief his hands are bringing her. Speaking of… “You’re gonna get the best head tomorrow, I promise.”

Grayson chuckles, squeezing her shoulders now, too. MJ feels him twitch against her lower back, but he says in her ear, “I’m not doing this for you to return the favor. I just want to be the one to make you feel better. Because I love you, and you’re mine, and you deserve it.”

“I know you’re not,” MJ smiles. “That only makes me want to do it even more.”

He grins and moves his hands further down her back beneath the water, massaging his knuckles into the soft skin there as well before coasting up her sides. He cups her breasts as MJ sinks back against him, her breathing picking up the slightest bit as his hands work magic there, too.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his hot breath flowing straight into her ear and sending goosebumps flaring over her skin.

More than okay, she thinks. MJ nods, and gasps when his hands pinch her nipples gently between his ring and middle fingers, tugging slightly. She takes his large hand off her right breast and sinks it into the water, straight to her center, her legs already parting to welcome him.

“Just rub me,” she whispers, eyes closed as he doesn’t hesitate to obey. “Circles, like this.”

MJ guides his fingers over her clit for a moment to show him exactly what she wants, but this isn’t their first rodeo and Gray knows perfectly well what he’s doing. She lets him take over and simply lies back against him as he expertly brings her higher and higher, until she’s falling over the edge, twitching in his arms and moaning sweetly.

Grayson tilts her head back to kiss him, sighing into her mouth as she twists in his arms to straddle him. He’s completely hard now, and she takes him in her hand instinctively. Twenty minutes ago, sex was the last thing on her mind, but she feels so good and relaxed now that she doesn’t hesitate to line him up and sink down slowly on his dick.

She grins smugly when his eyes fly open and he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, completely surprised by a warm wetness that is vastly different from that of the bathwater. When she had stroked him in her hand he thought she might jerk him off, but her pussy, still deliciously tight from her orgasm, isn’t what he’s prepared for as he becomes slowly encased in it.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t meant for it to last long, because he’s so overwhelmed and caught off-guard it only takes a couple of minutes max of her grinding up and down on him while she whispers hot, dirty things in his ear, for him to shoot deep inside her.

“Shit,” he huffs out with a little laugh as she raises herself up enough for him to slip out of her pussy. “Did you just give me the equivalent of a hand job with your vagina? I know that wasn’t for you.”

She giggles and sits back in his lap, shrugging as she nuzzles his nose with hers. “What can I say, I’m feeling lazy tonight and that seemed like the faster option. Are you complaining?”

Grayson shakes his head vehemently. “Of course not, but I didn't want you to do any work tonight.” His brows pinch a bit and his lips turn down into a pout. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

MJ smiles softly and brushes his cheek with pruned fingertips. Even post-orgasm, he’s still concerned only about her. “Better, Gray-bear. Thank you.”

God, she loves him so much. She can’t resist wiping her hands on the towel and reaching behind him to grab his phone to capture him in that moment. His hair has gone curly in the humidity of the bathroom; the light from the window shines perfectly on his chiseled face, making his sex-eyes nearly pure green and illuminating his full lips that have curled into a small, crooked smile as he realizes her intention. She laughs when he takes it upon himself after a few serious snaps to play up to the camera, scooping up some of the bubbles and blowing them off his palm while giving her a joking, coquettish expression. Finally, she puts her back against his chest once again and they take a couple of goofy, up-angle shots, close-ups of their faces.

Photoshoot over, Grayson sighs and hugs her tight to him as he sucks kisses up and down the sides of her neck while she goes through the pictures. He’s making her head swim, but she manages to determine three of her favorites and doesn’t even bother editing them before adding a simple heart emoji in the caption and posting them to his Instagram once she earns his approval.

She turns around to put the phone back on the ledge before leaning in to plant her lips on his, slipping her tongue between them sensually. She could kiss this man forever, but eventually they start slowing down. MJ moves her kisses to his sharp jawline, trailing her mouth across and down until she gets to his neck freckle. She gives it a peck before pulling back, meeting his hooded gaze with warm eyes. It feels so good to just give each other these little bouts of physical affection with no real end goal. Just enjoying each other’s company, in their own space, caressed by the comforting warmth and scents of the bath.

Eventually, MJ peels herself away from him and stands up. Grayson stares up at her adoringly, admiring the way the water cascades over her body and rains down back into the tub. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

She looks like a naiad with her long, dark hair covering her tits and dripping sensual trails of warm water down the dips and curves of her body. As if she doesn’t look delectable enough to him right now, her pussy is inadvertently right in his face, and his hand instantly reaches up to touch her. “Me too,” he growls, his fingertips tracing her lower lips and parting them so her clit is exposed. His mouth literally starts to water as he thinks about her earthy taste and her slippery arousal coating his tongue.

Just as he’s ducking in to swipe his tongue over her slit, MJ grips a handful of his hair and stops him, tilting his head back with that grip to make him look up at her questioningly. “Not now,” she says, taking her turn to scratch her nails along his scalp for a moment. “Still sensitive. And actually starving; I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing part of that report.”

Grayson nods understandingly and lifts the plug in the drain before standing up as well. “Then let’s get some Monty’s in you, hm?”

“That sounds amazing,” she agrees, her stomach growling right on cue.

They both chuckle and Grayson helps her step out of the tub before wrapping her up in a big, fluffy towel. He kisses her nose, then her lips, and retreats into the closet with his own towel to find fresh PJs for himself.

An hour later, they’re chowing down on some burgers and shoestring fries together in the fresh blankets of their bed while Ratatouille plays through the projector. And Chanel’s stupid username hasn’t popped up once in his likes or comments.

[aerynwrites]

Stardust

Cassian Andor x Reader Soulmate!AU

Author’s Note: Why do I do this to myself? I almost cried writing this you guys, I am upset lol. I hope you guys like this bc I was so inspired to write this for whatever reason, hope you enjoy! 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Character death, angst, lots of emotional turmoil, that’s it. 

////

You had never met your soulmate.

Even though you had lived your entire life feeling all of their pain, their heartache, everything, you had never met them. You surmised from the countless bruises that appeared and the random bouts of pain that you recieved that they had a very active and apparently dangerous lifestyle - but you had no idea who they were. You didn’t know if it was a man or a woman, if they had dark hair or light, what they looked like, what they sounded like...it was all unknown to you.

So why did it hurt so much when they died?

You had been carrying the crop from your garden into your small home when you felt it. It started out as just a deep heartache, that for some reason slowly ebbed away until it was replaced by a terrible fiery pain all over. You dropped the basket in your hands, the pain bringing you to your knees before it was gone in an instant, replaced by something even worse than all the pain you had felt over the years.

There was nothing. Your soulmate was gone.

Your kind elderly neighbor, a woman named Ada who had basically been your mother since your parents had passed, heard your wails of anguish from her home. But even she could not console you as you screamed at the stars. You weren’t even thirty years old and already you had experienced the worst thing anyone ever will - the loss of your other half. Your mind went numb, you had never felt something this powerful in your short lifetime, something this life altering - aching so deep your bones seemed to hurt as Ada forced you from the ground and into your home. Everything was a blur, hidden and misconstrued by the utter anguish in your soul. You think the kind woman had tried to say something, ask what was going on, but you didn’t answer. You couldn’t past the tears burning your cheeks and the sobs ripping from your throat. The next thing you knew, you were in bed, curled in tightly on yourself with the blankets pulled up around your shoulders as you continued to wail into the pillow beneath you. You didn’t even know how much time had passed - seconds? Minutes? Hours?

The only thing your foggy mind seemed to register was that you needed sleep. That and an unfamiliar faint whisper as you fell into a fitful slumber.

‘I’m so sorry.’

***

It had been a couple of days since they died. And instead of things getting even slightly better, they just seemed to get worse. You felt empty since the moment you woke up, a part of you was missing after all, but even though you felt empty on the inside, you had the eerie feeling of not being alone. Every step you took around your small cottage, you felt watched - but not only that, things were...off. The first day after you woke up, you hadn’t left the bed, you didn't have the physical or emotional energy to do so. Yet, despite knowing you were the only one in your home, it’s like you could feel another presence. You tried to brush it off, excuse it as your mind trying to find some way of coping with this complete and utter loss you didn’t know how to deal with. But when you got up the following day and noticed small things were out of place, you didn’t really know what to do.

It went on like this for almost a week, you trying to cope with the fact that you would never meet your other half, along with these strange events. Sometimes you would walk into the living area, only to see your history books open and splayed out on the coffee table. Then the next moment you would be in the garden and you would hear footsteps next to you, like someone was walking through the foliage, only to turn and see no one there. But it all came to a head when you were awoken in the middle of the night - the first time you had managed to finally get some sleep - to the sounds of loud thuds and crashes coming from your living room. You leapt from your bed, and rushed into the room, shocked to see all of your books ripped from their shelves and tossed onto the floor. But the thing that set you off, that finally pulled at your last shred of sanity, was the photo album that lay open in the middle of it all. One of the pages floating back in its place slowly - as if someone had been leafing through the pages of memorabilia. You all but stomped over to the messy pile in the middle of the room, kneeling down to look at where the pages of the album had stopped moving, seeing only you and your parents smiling faces looking up at you. You felt a new wave of tears spill over and down your cheeks as you clutched at the book desperately, as if it would somehow ground you.

“What do you want?” you cry, looking up from the book and around your empty home, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

You didn’t expect a response, you knew that you were most likely crazy, seeing these things - these figments of your imagination as a way of trying to cope with what had happened. So, when you finally turned to look in front of you once more, you let out a small scream when you saw a figure standing there. You flung yourself backwards onto your butt, hands reaching out behind you to catch yourself as you took in the intruder in your living room. He was tall, taller than you at least, and he looked like he had just fought a war. His dark hair was mussed, he had several cuts and scrapes on his face, and his clothing - a beige shirt and dark pants and boots - were covered in dirt and had holes in them. But the thing that struck you the most, was that you could see right through him. It's like he was a vision, something here but not quite all the way, as you could see your dining room table through his figure.

“Where am I?” the figure asked, his voice snapping you from your observation and instead bringing you back to the first night this all started.

‘I’m so sorry’ - The words ring in your ears as this stranger repeats his question in the same voice that spoke those words to you a week ago.

“Hey!” his voice bites, the snapping of his fingers making you focus on him again, “Tell me where I am? How did I get here?” His voice was sharp, his accent unfamiliar to you, yet you find a small sense of calm wash over you as he barks his questions.

You sit up slightly, never taking your eyes from him as you finally speak, “You’re on Kaith,” you say simply, voice weak after days of disuse.

The man shakes his head, “I’ve never heard of it,” he says flatly.

“It’s a small planet...on the outer rim,” you offer quietly, watching as he seemingly mulls over the information.

You take this moment of silence to speak up once more, you feel like you know this man, despite never having seen him in your life. He just feels…. familiar.

“What’s your name?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper as you gaze up at him.

You see him open his mouth to answer, before it snaps shut, a look of complete and utter confusion taking over his features as he looks about the room frantically before his eyes return to you, “I don’t know,” he breathes.

And then he’s gone.

***

It’s a few more days before your unexpected house guest shows himself again. Things had been calmer since he had shown up, less things moving around and such. You supposed he was too busy trying to remember who he was. You had rushed over to Ada’s house the day after he had appeared, stumbling over your words as you tried to explain what had happened. She didn’t say much, just listened to you while holding your hand and giving you a knowing look the entire time. She didn’t tell you much after you had finished either, just telling you some cryptic line about how you should be open to this and try to communicate. You had left her house more confused than before but opted to try and talk to the strange apparition again.

But he beat you to it.

“Cassian.”

You gasped as the voice reached your ears, breaking the silence of your home as you were cutting up vegetables for dinner. You dropped the knife and turned around at the sound of the familiar voice, seeing the same man as before standing a few feet away from you in the small space of your kitchen. He looks slightly different this time around. He was still transparent, his clothes were still tattered, and his face was still scuffed up, but his hair was neatly styled, combed to the side. He was looking at you intently, hands in his pockets as he waited for you to say something.

“What?” was all you managed to get out.

He chuckled slightly, and you tried to ignore the butterflies it created in your belly, before he spoke up once more, “My name,” he said, “It’s Cassian.”

You nod your head slowly, taking in the information for a moment before gaining the courage to speak again. You tell him your name, taking notice of the small smile that graces his lips as he repeats it, telling you it’s nice to officially meet you.

“Why are you here?” you blurt out, your curiosity getting the better of you, “I just want to understand.”

You see Cassian go stiff for a moment, before letting out a breath, running his hand through his neatly styled hair, “I don’t know,” he admits, “I don’t even know how I got here - I don’t understand what’s happening,” he sounds desperate now, confusion and panic lacing his words, “When I’m here, with you, it feels real - but then when I’m not it feels like a dream, like I’m floating in space,” he tries to explain.

You watch as he takes a few steps towards you closing the distance and you can really see the panic in his eyes, as he tries to find reasoning behind what’s happening, “Am I dead? Is this a dream? Please, you have to he-”

And then it’s like his voice is carried away in the wind along with him. You blink, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened, why this stranger just keeps appearing and disappearing out of thin air. Why he’s appearing to you, why he’s appearing at all. But you can’t seem to come up with an answer. At least not right now.

***

You’re crying when he appears again.

Curled up in your bed as the emptiness in your chest takes over once again. Since your soulmate died, you’ve had good days and bad, usually more bad than good - but today was especially tough for some reason. You had woken up from a dream cheeks damp with your tears as your mind haunted you with flashes of your soulmate even though you had never met them - but what had made it even more confusing was that it was Cassian’s face that kept appearing in your dreams. You hadn’t moved from your bed the rest of the day, alternating between waking moments filled with tears and grief, and sleeping moments mercifully filled with nothing but inky blackness.

Cassian had appeared in one of the waking moments.

You were surprised slightly when you felt a gentle sensation on your ankle, you looked down to see Cassian sitting at the foot of your bed, hand ghosting across your ankle in a comforting gesture. You also noticed that he looked different again, his clothes looked brand new, his hair was styled, but he still had the scrapes dusted along his forehead and cheekbone - and he was still transparent.

“Why do you cry so much?” he asks softly, eyes filled with concern as he gazed at you.

Part of you didn’t know if you wanted to tell him what was wrong, the rational part of you telling yourself that you didn’t know this man. But a smaller part of you, a part that you couldn’t really explain told you that you did know him. You could trust him - you were connected somehow.

“My soulmate died,” you whispered, bottom lip wobbling as you forced the words out.

Something flashed in Cassian’s eyes, a flicker of emotion you couldn’t quite catch before it disappeared and he spoke once more, “Were you together for long?”  

You looked away from him then, shaking your head and wiping at the stray tears that fell from your eyes, “I hadn’t even met them yet,” you confess, “but I felt it when they died - and it’s like a part of me died too.”

You bring your eyes back to the man at the end of your bed and you take in a deep breath, “Did you have a soulmate?” you ask quietly, voice barely a whisper, yet Cassian heard it with ease.

That one question seemed to confirm the thought you both had. You said did - past tense. Cassian was dead. The one thing he had feared since he had shown up in your home. But despite his fear at this revelation, he doesn’t disappear, he tries to stay - for you.

So he shakes his head, “I mean I think I did,” he begins, “But I hadn’t met mine either,” he admits, his gaze falling to something in the distance as a wistful look crosses his features.

You speak up one last time, “What’s your last name?” you blurt, bringing his attention back to you, “You told me your first name, but never your last.”

A small smile graces his lips, and for the first time since he’s started appearing to you, you see him start to fade away slowly. You sit up quickly, afraid he’s going to leave again without answering your question but as he finally fades from sight, a light whisper and warm breath fans over your ear.

“Andor”

***

You sat in your garden, staring at your holopad, the information on one, Captain Cassian Jeron Andor staring back up at you. This is why you wanted his last name, to see if you could find out who he was, what he was doing here, and if you could help him. However, the more you read, the more things started to make sense, and it confirmed your fleeting thoughts since the day your soulmate had died. The fact that Cassian showed up when he did corresponded with his date of death and your soulmates, the event starting on that day you lost your other half, neither of you having met your soulmate...it all made sense now.

Cassian Andor - Rebel pilot and intelligence officer, hero of the rebellion who valiantly gave his life for the rebellion in order to save the galaxy - was your soulmate.  

“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice appeared again.

This time you didn’t flinch, but as you looked over at him, sitting cross-legged next to you in your small garden, you couldn’t help the surprise that you felt. He looked good. Even though you had acknowledged long ago that he was handsome, you could really see it now. It looked like he had never seen battle at all, he was clean, no cuts or scrapes, clean clothes...and most shockingly, he was solid. You couldn’t see through him like before. It was like he was right here with you, and maybe, the fates were being merciful and giving you one real moment with the half you lost.

You set the holopad off to the side, opting instead to reach over to him slowly, afraid that one wrong move and you would lose him all over again. But as he met you halfway, his larger hand enveloping your much smaller one, you knew you would get this last moment with him.

You couldn’t help the tears that fell when you felt the warmth coming off of him, or the smell of blaster fire and spice that invaded your senses. You took in a shuddering breath as he pulled you into him, his own warm tears dampening your shirt as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know this is crazy,” you gasp, “But I love you Cassian Andor.”

Cassian pulled away from you at your words, cradling your face in his hands and wiping away your tears, “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, “I was selfish.”

Despite your tears, you let out a small chuckle, “I think sacrificing yourself for the good of the galaxy isn’t selfish Cassian.”

But he shakes his head, “But I didn’t even think about you - about us,” he insists.

You place one of your hands over his own that's still resting on your cheek, “What’s done is done,” you say quietly, “I still love you, no matter what.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, his eyes just dance across your features, aware that this may be the last time he gets to see you, before he’s pulling you to him, sealing his lips to yours. Your hands come up to his cheeks, resting there gently relishing in the feeling of the scruff under your fingertips. Your tears mix with his where your lips meet as you both pour all of your emotion into one single action. You can feel his hands drop from your face down to your waist griping at you desperately.

“I love you too,” the whispers against your lips, breath warm as it fans over you.

Your words come out in a whimper, “Cassian-” and you open your eyes, more tears spilling over as you are met with empty space, the smell of Gunsmoke and spice lingering in the air where he was just moments ago.

Cassian’s gone.

///

Also i know Cassian isn’t force sensitive or whatever so like technically he couldn’t appear as a ghost in canon but i just wanted angst okay xD. so please ignore that small detail.

Permanent Taglist: @lord-wolfgen @petalduck @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @stillreadingfantasy @pedrosdoll @simonsbluee @justlovetoreadfics @discogrrl @maryan028 @asaucecoveredsomething @hiscyarika @theforceofdisney @hail-doodles @murdermewithbooks @getinthepoolkeanu @ah-callie @adikaofmandalore @fleurdemiel145 @fioccodineveautunnale @harrypotter-life2 @mandalorian-theway @spxcedxdddy @dizzydazed @readsalot73 @wickedfrsgrl @shayna-winchester @blushingwueen​

Tags that expressed interest in the one-shot: @rzrcrst​ @ariespedro​ @onebatch--twobatch​ @fangirl-and-stuff​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @treestarrrrrrrr​

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, BRIDGET! You’ve been accepted for the role of HERMIA. Admin Julie: Bridget, your application for Hazel was, in short, incredible. Nothing felt unfinished out or out of place -- every word you wrote felt as though it just made sense. It was a true, genuinely pleasure to read; your in-character interview was especially heartrending, and honestly, listening to Hazel speak felt quite a lot like coming home and sitting down with an old friend over a nice cup of tea, or coffee, which is a welcome relief from the harshness that Verona can often personify if you let yourself get too drawn in to the chaos and the angst and the pain. Hazel is utterly human in an incredible way, and you hit that nail right on the head. We cannot wait to see her on the dashboard, and we cannot wait to have you with us. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Bridget Age | Twenty-two Preferred Pronouns | She/they Activity Level | I am currently in a fugue state when it comes to both the perception of myself and of time, so while I will intend to be online everyday, sometimes a few days will slip through the cracks of my conscious and then I’ll realize I’ve been MIA and do my best to do about 123432 replies in an hour to play catch-up. That said, I can guarantee at least four days a week being online for at least an hour if not more. Timezone | EST How did you find the rp?  | I feel like I’ve known this RP for years but honestly I’ve been capital-I Intimidated by it, but I was talking to Kay and figured I was finally willing to take the plunge Current/Past RP Accounts | https://rvncorns.tumblr.com/ https://birdieklein.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Hermia ; Hazel Ruth Accardi

Hazel ; english: the hazelnut tree Ruth ; biblical, hebrew: compassionate friend Accardi ; a family who believes in God above all, following his teachings in all motions of their life

What drew you to this character? |

As mentioned above, I’ve seen this roleplay for years, and I have had friends be a part of it. In the depths of my Google Drive, I have half-started apps that I never finished due to the muse never being quite there, or for fear of submitting and facing competition itself. I’ve perused the masterlist every so often, but no one has quite piqued my interest quite like Hazel.

I think I knew I had to app them after reading the line, “ only a foolish saint believed that they could walk through a city of such sin with unblemished hands and clean soles of feet. ” It was so visceral, and it really made me start imagining this character further than what the biography offered. I could only picture her having found this solid identity, certainly marked by the world, but mostly unstained. I couldn’t help but think that this — being in Verona, that is — is going to change her. She might not realize it, She might not want to believe it, but it will happen slowly and surely.

I do love characters that have crises with identity. There is something soothing in being sure of yourself and who you are, and I do believe that fuels Hazel. She fought and struggled to find herself, and now she will begin to struggle and fight to keep herself as she is, as who she knows herself to become.

There’s room for both growth and regression within Hazel, and I genuinely would love to explore it.

I also was captured by her love and fervid passion for religion. As someone who has personally struggled with religion and their own views of it, I think Hazel will be an interesting projection. I want to see her lean into her faith with all that is coming to trouble her because that is who they are. God is her Shepherd and she is his lamb. He is guiding her through all of this, struggles and all.

I don’t think she’ll ever come to have a moment where she will renounce her faith. It is embedded in her. She is solid and unwavering in it — and I desperately believe that that can’t be changed, no matter what the world — Verona, specifically — will throw at them.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

I always fear that I’m not living right: I want to explore how far Hazel falls in with the Montagues. Is it forging only ? Does it stop there ? Or does it slowly become more and more until she realizes she is drowning in sin she could have never imagined ? I want her to have moral conflict. She loves Verona for its beauty and history — but is it worth the sin ? Is it worth the stain on her godly soul no matter how many times she goes to confession ? I gotta say I don’t think she’ll be necessarily cognizant of her doing more. It just seems like she’s paying off their debts. A gun to the face has put the fear of God in her heart ( — which leads me to wonder how much fear did she have of God to begin with, the righteous and Almighty, and I do suppose I could write a whole thesis on this but I’ll refrain ) and to question it seems like the wrong move.

ALSO HAHA I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS RIGHT NOW pt. 2 : what if she started forging for the Capulets too ? Like, to make more money on the side ? The money they’re earning from the Montagues is basically nil, considering it’s all going to debts. If she wants a little money in her pockets, maybe she’ll have to do what she has to. Maybe there’s no choice. It could be dangerous and risky — scratch that. It would definitely be dangerous and risky. But I think a part of Hazel is still somewhat blind to all of the danger. It hasn’t quite touched her yet ( a gun to her face aside ), so it hasn’t quite struck her how much is at play, at least not in a real, physical, palpable way.

I do have to say that I’m pretty sure she will end up more involved within either the Montagues or the Capulets despite what her initial thoughts are ( because that’s the path I’d like to move with her ). Slowly but surely, she’ll end up in deeper water, but I don’t think she’ll want to get out so long as she feels safe. That’s so important, a sense of safety. She has that in her relationship with her parents, and especially her relationship with God. That said, I feel like I need to add that she will stay involved with the gangs so long as she isn’t hurting anyone directly. She’ll have blinders on, specifically rose-colored ones, of her own making. Perhaps it’s naive, perhaps it’s selfish, but to think too long about it is scary. To add on the thought of hurting someone else by her direct action ? Unfathomable. It’s established in the biography that she saw the world in extremes, and I do imagine that, while she has grown, she still sees some things in black and white. I think getting more involved with the Capulets and Montagues will show her that the world isn’t just her version of black and white. What she sees as wrong, someone else might see it as right. I think she’ll be introduced to shades of grey she never quite was able to perceive anymore. I want her to learn more about people as she learns more about the war between the Montagues and Capulets.

I’m still petrified that I’ll die alone: I can’t imagine that leaving Harley didn’t hurt Hazel at least a little bit. It was the right decision surely — she’ll never think or believe otherwise — but now she’s grown up. I think that she wants Harley to be in her life because she loved them once, partly, not wholly, but as the connection says, Hazel doesn’t know where Harley is meant to fit. I think it would be really interesting to have them reunite and discover who she is now. Though Harley knew herself then, I’m sure she’s changed. I want Hazel to learn that, and I want her to reintroduce herself to her. It would start with a “ Hi, I’m Hazel, ” and it’d be a little shy and a little hesitant, but she’s open to possibilities. She isn’t as closed off as she once was. I really think Hazel needs to figure out where Harley fits, or, and hear me out, where she doesn’t fit. I don’t know if Hazel ever felt true closure from where they left each other before, but maybe she can find it. Whether it’s them together or not, it’s something she’ll work to figure out.

Ok I feel the need to say that obviously it would depend on the Harley writer and myself on whether or not they get back together and also their chemistry ???? okay but so: If they get back together, I think Hazel will definitely feel more pulled into the world of the Capulets and Montagues. I feel like I should state that, one, she would be incredibly glad to be with Harley again, and she would fall in love again, which leads to a very happy mindset and lifestyle, but the most heavy impact it would have on her life is for sure  the one it would have on her role with the Capulets and Montagues. Honestly, right now, she doesn’t want to be involved. That’s the end goal. The only thing keeping her with the Montagues right now is her debt. Once she has it paid off entirely, there’s really no reason to keep working with them. I mean, besides money, but I digress. She wouldn’t plan to work for either. She could be pressed / convinced into it. However, regarding the Capulets, she wouldn’t want to put Harley in a difficult position were she still working with the Montagues when they got back together. Can she quit ? Probably not ! Would she try ? Yes ! Maybe she’d offer to assist the Capulets in some way to make it equal. In her mind, it would work. Harley: come work for the Capulets. I’m loyal to them. There’s some safety in Verona with an allegiance Hazel: Good point I think if Harley asked her to, she wouldn’t say no, not right away It would take time to make a decision, and she would definitely think about it ( not just an hour, but days, maybe a week ? ) She would be conflicted between her strength and resolve towards herself but also her loyalty towards Harley If they don’t get back together, I do think Hazel will be sad, but not cripplingly so. She would be the first person to say she isn’t the same as she was a year ago, let alone however long it was ago that her and Harley were together. I think it would loosen a tie between her and the Capulets, if there was one, but also loosen the tie between her and Verona. I sort of see it ( them not being together ) as a reason not to stay. It would cement to her that she wasn’t the person who fell in love with Harley. She’s different, she’s someone new. And that’s not a bad thing. I think it would be almost a relief actually, to know that she's changed. I would hope that they’d still be friends and would get to know each other for who they are now. Hazel wants to be excited for who she is now and what all that she believes in.

I’m still petrified of going broke: Hazel never imagined being in crippling debt, not to a college in the United States, and definitely not to a bank controlled by a mob in Italy. But here she is. This is her life. Is it worth it to stay ? What if she ran home to her parents, embracing their help and their charity until she found her footing once again ? She could do it. Would Verona follow ? She doesn’t think so. But guilt would. She made her bed, shouldn’t she lie in it ? Maybe running wouldn’t do any good, so maybe she should find purpose in Verona. It could start with a job. It could continue with getting out of debt and earning her freedom once more. Then, she could further repent beyond confession with charity and good deeds. Maybe she can set themselves on a godly path once more someway somehow.

To stay: I think Hazel wants to stay because it’s new. It’s beautiful and freeing to be so independent. She’s learning about the world, about herself, and, importantly, she feels closer to God here. She’d have more reason to stay if she had Harley, she’d have more reason to stay if she became better friends with those she’s found friendship ( acquaintanceship ? ) with. Felipe: You don’t forge documents for someone without at least feeling a little loyal to them ! I imagine Hazel is keen to remain in touch with them, to know they’re safe. Also, she told her whole life story to him. If that doesn’t add up to friendship ( in her mind, at least ), then what does ? Ajax: Listen. I just have thoughts about these too. They could become BEST FRIENDS. Obviously, that’s Hazel with her rose-colored glasses talking through me. I just imagine she feels close to him ( with him viewing her as a sister-like figure, I imagine it’s reciprocal ). Also please note that above I said Hazel wants to stay. Despite her debt and moral quandaries, she still wants to be in Italy. That’s how she’s feeling right now. I think staying will impact her self-confidence. She is enough. She is strong and brave in ways she never quite imagined. I think she’ll discover more about humans, the longer she stays in Verona ; rather, she’ll learn more about their particularities and peculiarities — who they are, their beliefs, their loyalties. That’s something that struck me particularly about Hazel, she’s always learning and she’s eager to do so, not just about herself but the world and the people in it, too. To not stay, in no particular order: there’s a war between the Capulets and Montagues going on and she’s somehow gotten involved. She’s in debt. Her ex is here. I think if she got hurt, saw someone get hurt, or knew someone closely who got hurt, she might be convinced to leave. Harm isn’t something she wants to be around. She doesn’t want it to happen to her and she doesn’t want to see someone be affected. Ultimately, though, it boils down to fear. If she’s scared of her life being at risk, she might consider it time to flee. I think this would ultimately cause her to shelter herself further. She’ll seek the familiar, her family and childhood home, perhaps, or somewhere with a heavily-religious population. Either way, she’ll fall back on her faith and the familiar, finding comfort in what she already knows, trusts, and believes in.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? |

What is life without a little risk ? Kill her if you have to. Let’s go for maximum angst and maximum pain. IN DEPTH

What is your favorite place in Verona?

The cathedral and its pews seemed awfully lonely and awfully cold, and Hazel wondered if one without god in their hearts would simply freeze if they stepped inside. It seemed foolish to wonder such a thing, but the cathedral was such a sacred and holy place. What good came to outsiders who stepped inside ? To come there was to seek God. It had to be for that purpose and that only. “ I found the Cathedral in my first days here — but saying it like that makes it seem like I wasn’t aware of it before I moved. ” Her head was tilted askew, her eyes not upon whom she spoke to, instead stuck on the multicolored panes of the stained glass windows. “ It was one of my reasons I chose Verona, actually. I — I needed a place I knew I’d be able to find God. ”

There was something that felt like home in a church. Hazel had never much enjoyed labeling a place as such, but the wooden pews were as familiar as her father, the velvet kneelers soft and comforting as her mother’s hand on her cheek. She’s staring down at her feet now, half-embarrassed and half feeling like she’s revealing her inner soul. “ This — it’s unlike the church I grew up in in a thousand ways, but I still know what to expect here. I know the prayers and the rites, the taste of communion on my tongue. I come here and find the familiar when I’m feeling lost. ”

What does your typical day look like? “ It’s really not that interesting, I’ll have you know. ” She shrugged her shoulders, brows raised, fingers reaching up to push long strands of hair behind her ears. “ I wake up when the sun peeks through my window and I eat breakfast. Usually coffee and a bread of some sort. I’m a real sucker for a good cornetto, honestly. ”

“ I’m a morning person so I try to get as much done before noon, otherwise I consider the day to be a wash. I — I have a lot of papers to work on. ” She doesn’t elaborate, nor does she plan to. The papers, the forgeries, take up so much of her time and effort. She has to be perfect and precise with them, fear of what would happen if she wasn’t has gripped her so strongly that she’s woken in the middle of the night with a cold sweat slicking her body. “ I can get lost in my work. I guess I can be a bit of a perfectionist. ”

She nodded to herself, thinking of what comes next. Her eyes flicked towards the window, towards the people below. For a second, she’s lost in her staring. She couldn’t help but think that people-watching was becoming a lost art. “ I like having my afternoons open to wander and explore. I’m still getting to know the city, and just when I think I’ve got it all figured out, I find something new. It’s beautiful and historic. A marvel. ” Her words had turned airy and distant ; her body was there but her mind was somewhere else. “ I didn’t think moving to Verona would involve me working so much. ” She snorted a laugh despite herself. “ I had to invest in a better pair of sneakers a week in, my old ones were falling apart. ”

“ I usually go to church every day, too, if not every other day. It’s a chance to think and check in with myself. With God.”

Again, she’s shrugging. “ It’s not exciting, okay ? I’m not — exciting. I never have been. I don’t think I’d want to be either ? ”

Silence hung.

“ I call my parents in the evening. It’s afternoon back in Colorado. Usually I can catch them in their free time. Then it’s dinner. Then bed by nine. ”

She feels like she’s being judged. She doesn’t like it.

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

A loaded question. Does it mean since coming to Verona or within her entire life ? Her mind is reeling with possibilities of answers. She thinks of a beautiful girl she couldn’t give her heart to. She thinks of the Montagues, who she’s ended up helping in return for paid debts. One seems like the obvious answer, bigger than the other.

Her heart says otherwise.

“ I hurt a girl who didn’t deserve it. ” Her lip curls with self-disgust. “ I couldn’t not do what I did, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to hurt her. If I could have done it gentler I would have, but hearts ache. It’s what they’re meant to do. There was no avoiding it. ”

She rests her head in her hands and talk through her fingers.

“ I don’t like hurting people. It doesn’t feel good. ”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

This — this — is the easiest question asked. There is no doubt in Hazel’s mind when she answers. “ If there is a gun pointed at me when I’m told to do something, that goes to the top of the list. ” She leans back in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. It’s such a loaded question. How could they expect her to say anything else ? “ It’s like this. I’m good at forging things. I have to do it. This added pressure, though, it makes me feel like I’m drowning, okay ? I’ve never done it where so much was at stake, where it’s been my life on the line. ” Her jaw is clenched, trembling slightly. “ I just feel like I really played myself, you know ? I fell for a trick and into a trap, and the next thing I know is that I’m staring into the mouths of lions. ”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

Her face flushes as more time passes. She doesn’t like being considered ignorant, but as time passes and no words spill from parted lips, it’s clear that she doesn’t have much to say. “ I don’t know much about it. ” She speaks slowly and carefully, considering. “ All I know is that it scares me, and I’m on the precipice of falling into it. ” Isn’t she ? She’s forging for the Montagues. That makes her involved with one side of the war, if not both by association. Still, she wants to stay away from most of it, if she can. “ I don’t know what’s started it, and I know that hate and rage has kept it going. I’m scared of being touched by its bloodshed. No good can come from being involved. ”

Extras:

HEADCANONS

001. Of the few things she brought with her to Verona, very likely her dearest possession, is a pearl and crystal Holy Rosary she received after completing her confirmation from her parents.

002. She learned she had a penchant for forgeries in high school. It started with a signature missed from her parents. Her few friends caught on and asked for a few favors. It ended as quickly as it started, guilt eating at her core. But it always seemed to come back. In college, a doctor said they would fax over a note that would grant her an extension for certain assignments. When they didn’t, Hazel did it herself, making a pastiche out of old notes and documents from the practice. That wasn’t lying, was it ? It had meant to be done by the doctor anyway. But she was offered money a few more times when others found out what she could do. She always found herself feeling a pit in her stomach, deciding the possibility of being blackmailed if she said no was worse than the acts of fraud itself. She thought post-college that it would stop. No more trickery and fooling others. And then she ended up in Verona with debt weighing her down, letters sent to her asking for payments nearly everyday. She went to the bank with a letter, signed by the head of the bank itself, saying she had been granted an extension. Most didn’t bat an eye. It looked good, it looked real. Perhaps the extension was too generous because she was caught. Instead of pursuing legal options against her, an offer was laid at her feet. Make some forgeries, lose your debt. How could she say no ?

003. She has a favorite coffee shop just outside of the little apartment she’s living at. She goes there for breakfast. Sometimes she orders extra pastry to have them at home. She’s considered asking for a job there. Something real. Something legal. Something with low risk.

004. She calls her mother frequently. To not worry her, she says everything is fine, just dandy and golden. It’s a white lie, the teensiest of things, but it’s to her parents. Surely God would understand that she wishes to not stress them out.

PINTEREST BOARD

[katy-mha-blog]

Universe A Next-Gen: Other Ships/Characters

The kids for some other ships + some single characters, those being Itsuka/Neito, Itsuka/TetsuTetsu, Hanta, Fumikage/Suiko, Rikado/Janora, Hitoshi/Mei, and Yuga/Camie~

- Shiori Monoma . female, only child . young adult, part-time model . similar quirk to her mother's, though specializes in enlarging her feet for stronger kicks - Physical Appearance : . average height, petite yet toned build, fair skin, periwinkle eyes . choppy and fluffy bangs, strawberry blonde in color, chin-length hair - Background and Personality : Only child to Itsuka and Neito, older half-sister to Satomi. Her parents, while loved each other during their time together, drifted apart mutually after a while. Their split was agreed upon by the both of them, yet still remained as close friends. One night when they were partying with their other friends, both had a little too much to drink and ending up spending the night together. Both were equally shocked to hear that they were expecting, but planned to raise their soon-to-be child with equal and shared custody. Eventually Itsuka found love again and had another child, though it's currently unknown if Neito has moved on to someone else himself. Shiori truly doesn't mind her step-father TetsuTetsu, though finds it difficult to relate with her younger sister. Shiori is a bit unlike her parent's in terms of personality. She's mostly calculating and calm no matter what, her strong and slightly icy gaze making people respect her, if a bit out of fear. She mostly is a silent type, preferring to keep to herself, which makes her appear a bit unpredictable. She had potential growing up to attend UA High and become a hero, though she turned the opportunity down to pursue her love of modelling. She has difficulty making friends due to her social awkwardness, though with the ones she does manage to make she treasures them dearly.

- Satomi TetsuTetsu . female, only child . teen, training to attend UA High for the following year . steel quirk, similar to her father's - Physical Appearance : . fairly tall with an average build, pale skin, sharp teeth, teal eyes . fluffy, messy silver hair about medium-length, long bangs parted to right - Background and Personality : Only child to Itsuka and TetsuTetsu, younger half-sister to Shiori. After her relationship with Neito had passed, Itsuka soon rekindled her relationship with TetsuTetsu. They focused on their friendship mainly at first, but soon developed romantic feelings for each other. One thing led to another and they soon married, having a child of their own down the line. Satomi isn't super close to her older sister for a few reasons such as they didn't really grow up together, their age difference, and differing lifestyle interests, but deep down they do want to become close again but both their social awkwardness is a barrier for now. Satomi is a rather headstrong tomboy type, competitive and confident. She's kind of bold and brash, tending to speak without thinking first, making her opinions known, and not always the sharpest tool in shed when it comes to common sense matters. Though despite this, she is a bit socially-awkward as she doesn't always know the best way to approach people. She likes using her quirk as a protective armor when needed, also enjoys using it for sparring and training sessions. She loves to stay fit and active, one way she manages this is through participating in martial arts.

- Kumo Sero . male, only child . teen, student at UA High . velcro quirk - Physical Appearance : . tall, kind of pale skin, baby blue eyes . short, black hair, kind of curly in texture with bangs slightly covering right eye - Background and Personality : Only child to Hanta. While he dated a fellow classmate for a little while during school, Hanta never really had a romantic partner until a little later. After graduation he decided that he also wanted to work in the medical field, and thus began training to work in emergency rooms, mainly using his quirk to provide bandages and such. During this time he met and befriended one of his fellow trainees, and the two soon formed a connection. They were friends for a while, and soon developed feelings for the other. They dated for a few more years before getting married, soon having a baby son to start their family. However, one night during a villain attack near their current residence, Hanta's love got caught in the crossfire and died, leaving Hanta as a widower and their child motherless. Seeing as their son was still a baby Hanta was at a loss of what to do at first, turning to some of his friend's for advice, though did the best he could to raise his son as a single parent. They moved around a lot so Hanta could work his best as a hero and work at all the major hospitals, so his son never got make or keep much friends for long. For now they seemed to have settled some where near UA High in Musutafu, and plan to stay there this time. Kumo, while never got the chance to know his mom much, isn't saddened by her death and loves hearing stories about her. He's rather cheerful and friendly, humble, and pretty easygoing in approach to his classmates and in general. He does have some anxiety and is prone to getting super red when embarrassed, of which he likes to hide with slight sarcasm at times. He's not really that lazy or anything, but when he gets comfortable like when sitting or lying down, or cuddling with someone, it'll take some budging and persuasion to get him up and moving again. He's interested in punk and rock music, usually listening to it while studying and has his room covered in various posters of some of his favorite bands and artists, his clothing style reflecting this slightly. He does pretty well in school, though there might be something or someone that seems to have distracted and captured his attention.

- Kotori Tokoyami . female, only child . teen, student at UA High . shadow quirk - Physical Appearance : . short and petite build, tanned skin with pointy ears, red eyes . short done in a pixie cut with bangs swept to the left, black fading to dark brown, a  lighter color at the tips, few baby/short hairs as feathers - Background and Personality : Only child to Fumikage and Suiko. The two had blossoming feelings for each other during their first and second year as they got to know each other better, though it wasn't until their final year did they actually get the courage to ask the other out. Their relationship is mostly a fluffy and supportive one, and as they dated for a few years they soon got married. They decided to focus on their marriage and careers before having any children, and by the time they finally did have one most of their other friends and classmates were having their own as well. Soon their little girl was born, resembling her mother mainly but had a full head covered in feathers. Most of them have molted and died off by now, but she still has some little baby feathers that don't seem to be leaving any time soon. Both her parents still work as pro heroes, though her mother has taken a job to teaching those with or without quirks on how to properly defend themselves, as it was something she had to learn to compensate for her quirk. For now Kotori is focused on following her parent's footsteps, having no real ambition for anything else at the moment though might be showing an interest in becoming a teacher in the future. Kotori seems to have taken after both her parents in personality. She's rather chill and calm, confident in her abilities but knows to be serious and focused, and when to back down. She's a bit distant socially and reserved as she mostly keeps to herself, but she does her best to hide this and is working on it. She's very much into magical and fantasy genres, mostly for all the cool and beautiful displays of magic. Her fashion sense is also similar to parent's, mainly wearing dark colors and goth clothes, though usually with a bright-colored accessory to make her outfits pop. She's kind of shy about romance concerning for herself, and would most likely be very flustered and blushy about how to respond. For now she is focused on her training and improving upon her quirk, which she has had help with from both her parents.

- Sora Satou . male, first born . young adult, freelancer at the moment . quirkless - Physical Appearance : . tall and thick build with good muscle definition, fair yet slightly tanned skin, dark brown eyes with white pupils . short, messy dark brown hair that can get pretty wild at times - Background and Personality : Firstborn son to Rikido and Janora. They playfully flirted with each other for a little while before getting together during their second-third year, being very loving and affectionate. Once they graduated they moved in together and began going to proper schooling to learn how to be professional chefs and bakers, growing closer together during this time. They got married shortly upon receiving their degrees, and soon began prepping for their first child as they found out they were expecting. Their first son, while being as big as them nowadays, was actually born prematurely and very small. His parent's were afraid that their son might have difficulties growing up, and while he was behind for the most part growth-wise from the other kids, he's actually pretty healthy and had a huge growth spurt in his later teens. Sora is a huge softie and very affectionate like both his parents, though doesn't always realize when he might be hugging too hard, leaving the other person breathless afterwards. Very friendly and polite, and chivalrous to all he meets. He was born quirkless but doesn't mind, as he still works out often to keep fit and be able to defend himself just in case. He's also pretty naive and clueless, as he doesn't always pick up on certain clues and concepts, which makes him more susceptible to other's schemes. While he grew up learning how to cook and bake from his parents he's unsure if he would want a career in that, or what he wants to do for that matter, as for now he's just working odd jobs to see if something sticks with him. - Riku Satou . male, second born . child, attends elementary school . superjump quirk, inherited from his mother - Physical Appearance : . average yet tall for his age, fair skin, dark eyes with white pupils . short, messy and wild bangs, medium-brown in color - Background and Personality :Second born and youngest son to Rikido and Janora. He came as a surprise to his parents, as they weren't expecting another child, but still welcomed their second son anyway. For now he just attends school and plays games with his classmates and the other neighborhood kids, no real big ambitions or aspirations just yet. He's a rather playful and curious child, with a bit of a mischievous and wild side too. He has trouble putting things into perspective or scale sometimes, which causes him to get in trouble or hurt a lot. He's been banned from his family's kitchen as a result of one particular stunt, which he is admittedly a but sad about as he used to like helping out.

- Yoru Shinsou . male, firstborn . teen, student at UA High . enhanced vision quirk - Physical Appearance : . fairly tall with an average build, fair skin, light purple eyes with white pupils . short, light magenta-ish pink hair, spiky tufts gathered together - Background and Personality : Only son to Hitoshi and Mei, as well as Yukari's older twin brother. The two had seen each other around school before, but it wasn't really until they got paired together for a whole school participation project did they get to interact. At first there were some conflicts with their contrasting ideas with how to go about completing the project, but the more they worked on it the more they warmed up to each other and genuinely enjoyed the other's company. They hung out more as friends afterwards, and the more they spent time together the more they came to appreciate the other's quirky habits, ideas, and the fact that they can let their guards down around each other. They remained best friends for a while before catching feelings shortly after graduation, both being flustered at how to handle it but chose to give it a shot. They remained together even as they, though especially Mei, got busy building their careers, and found little ways to spend time together. Mei's inventions were slowly getting more and more noticed, which most of her time was spent building custom gadgets for heroes and other general ones. The two never really found the time to get married, even when it was announced that they were expecting twins, though remained in a civil partnership of sorts. Now that their children are older, and they have more free time, they might be thinking about finally planning their wedding. Yoru is the more social one of the twins, though still retains a chill, cryptic vibe to him. He doesn't usually react with much or extreme emotion, being a bit more subtle about how he expresses himself. He's also pretty guarded, and a private person for the most part. While attending UA he is not in the hero course, but in the tech course instead. He likes making little gadgets when ideas come to him, but other than that he doesn't really take the course all that seriously. He mostly keeps to himself but can be friendly when need be, the person he's closest to being his twin. He likes techno-rock music and older video games, with his main interests being a mix between vintage and modern. Genuinely holds no grudges or ill-will towards anyone, even those enrolled in the hero course. - Yukari Shinsou . female, second born . teen, student at UA High . hypnosis quirk - Physical Appearance : . slightly above average height with a slightly curvy build, pale skin, light gold eyes with white pupils . kind of short, messy and spiky dark purple hair, usually put up in lazy ponytails - Background and Personality : Only daughter to Hitoshi and Mei, as well as Yoru's younger twin sister. She's enrolled in the general studies course of UA, though is a bit salty how her brother doesn't take the tech course seriously. She's more interested in mechanics and operating on other big machinery though and got placed in general studies, but might be transferring over to the tech course next year. She's generally pretty grumpy and moody, and resentful when she doesn't get her way or senses something she'd consider unfair. This causes her to be a bit of loner and avoiding of social interaction, also socially-awkward and clueless at social clues, which makes her be seen as someone who likes being left alone by her peers. She's got plenty of geeky and nerdy interests, and naturally very intelligent too. She doesn't have many friends aside from her brother, but does seem to have a bit of a rivalry with Fumiko Iida, who seems to have her mother Mei's attention more as a sort of protege or apprentice. It is unknown if Fumiko reciprocates the rivalry, though.

- Hitomi Aoyama . female, only child . teen, student at UA High . hand laser quirk - Physical Appearance : . average height with a curvy yet slim build, fair skin, deep indigo eyes with prominent lashes . curly and fluffy bangs, dirty blonde hair of a medium length, hair usually worn down with some gathered in a short ponytail or bun - Background and Personality : Only child to Yuga and Camie. Yuga, while eventually graduating from UA with his hero license, also wanted to help people out as a hero in different ways. One of these ways being a hero costume designer, to help design flashy and stylish yet still practical hero costumes that help accommodate and improve the hero's quirk, inspired by his own and others' predicaments. He still does occasional hero work when needed, though finds his calling more for designing clothes and costumes. He's never really had a romantic relationship nor the desire for one despite his more 'romantic flair' at times, though he did have a rather interesting dynamic yet complicated relationship with Camie Utsushimi at one point. This resulted in an arrangement of sorts that gave him his daughter, who was soon to become his pride and joy. The two didn’t feel much beyond that brief fling for each other, but decided to have shared custody of Hitomi with each other, though Hitomi predominantly lives with her father. Her childhood was fairly normal for the most part, despite going to private school, being rich, and being spoiled a lot. When her quirk first became active she nor her father knew where it was transmitted, though they thought it might have been her eye as her left eye got shot by a beam that left her partially blind. She wasn't born with the same defect as him however, and soon after her accident she began channeling her lasers through her hands, training hard so as to not hurt herself anymore and to have complete control over them. Time soon came for her to join UA, making her father proud at how far she's come in life and how she's more skilled and powerful than he was. Hitomi does for the most part present herself as a typical popular girl type, always keeping up with the latest trends, though there's more to her than that. She does act rather prideful at times, thinking her opinion is best and loves attention, though she's more tame about this side compared to some others. She's surprisingly very generous, compassionate, and friendly, and knows how to respect others' boundaries. She's kind of a take-charge and leader type also, though mostly socially as her classmate Akashi is more of a leader when it comes to class missions and training. She does have some insecurities about her quirk despite knowing how controlled she has managed to make it, as she doesn't want to have another accident with it to herself or others ever again, though she does her best to hide this side of hers. Her main hobbies include things such as shopping, fashion, and make-up, though does enjoy the thrill of sparring and other traditional 'boy' and physical activities. She's interested in history and language, including her French heritage though she's a bit more chill about it than her dad is. While generally tries to be friendly with all her classmates, her best and closest friend is Kotori, as they have a rather chill and confiding relationship with each other.

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 105

The lovely room you’d woken up in didn’t include a side bathroom. Perhaps you were getting a little too comfortable to the five-star lifestyle. SHIELD usually had nicer places than the one you’d ended up in- wherever that was- but considering you seemed to have been pulled out by rogue agents (a bare summation that you’d put together yourself) and shunted to wherever this was, perhaps you should forgive the whole no-shower thing. 

It did, at least, have a sink. So while Tony was busy with a few things that you could only guess what they were, you turned your back on him to let him work and took a very minimal amount of time removing your shirt and gathering up a handful of paper towels to try and wipe the dried blood off your arms and the sides of your neck. It hurt to move around, still. You weren’t sure how long ago you’d been shot, or how bad it had been… it felt pretty bad. So much so, in fact, that even though you were tempted to unwind the bandages from your chest, you thought better of it. 

Whatever momentary peace you’d had was broken when a soft knock came at the door. It made you hurry to put your shirt back on with a small call, “Just a second.” Although Tony’s ire was sharper. “Occupied.” 

A literal second was all the person on the other side waited, you were barely fully clothed again by the time the door opened. “We’re running short on time.” As you looked up you saw Maria Hill, arms crossed. “We’ve gotta start making some moves.” Her smile at you was extremely brief. “Can you move yet?” 

Tony answered for you. “Enough to go home.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” In fact your grunt of pain suggested exactly that. “Where are we, anyway? What happened?” Things were understandably a little fuzzy. You might have asked Tony what he was doing there, or how he’d gotten here, too, but… seeing as you were glad to have him near, you didn’t particularly care. 

As Maria stepped aside, into the room, Steve was not too far behind her. “You jumped in front of a bullet meant for me.” He seemed… uncomfortable to say the least. And very solemn. 

Tony looked up at him. “Usually some gratitude applies. But I’m sure you’ll send her a note on some nice stationary when we’re done.” You couldn’t make out if he was angry with Steve. He’d have no reason to be- probably just misplaced.

And- the last voice you’d have ever expected to hear, brought up the rear of this little circus show, as Nat wheeled Nick-fucking-Fury into the room. She seemed injured, too. At least you weren’t the only one covered in band-aids. “We’re in the last unknown bunker. Off-grid.” 

“Oh.” You said, accidentally a little more loudly than you meant. “I died and went to hell. Is that it?” 

The laugh that left him seemed to hurt him at the same time, sending him into a soft coughing fit that put a stall in the room. “Good to see you, too.” But when he caught his breath and held up his hand, he directed a strange smile your way. “What was it I was supposed to say- you were right- and we’re personally destroying Project Insight?” 

“That supposed to make me feel better?” If you’d had any energy left, you might have growled this at him. 

Shifting back, Tony pulled a USB stick out of a laptop. “Payload’s ready. Shame we have to have three hands on the proverbial wheel. Would’ve been a lot easier to take out from the comfort of this lovely sewer.” 

Nick gave him a look. “If you’re gonna launch or unlaunch a project like this, you have to be very sure.” 

“I get it.” Tony answered pretty dryly. “Like simultaneous turnkeys to  launch a nuke- but hey- seems like you always knew exactly what this was, huh?” Anger successfully redirected. And to a person that deserved it. “That Zero Day on the backend is pretty cute. Also pretty useless considering you expected you’d need a present cocktail to activate it. Also not as hidden as you thought.” 

Fury rolled his eye. “We get it, Stark. You’re smarter than the rest of us. Now, if we could just move on to formulating an actual plan- we have to assume everyone on board those helicarriers is Hydra. The tough part isn’t inserting the keys, it’s getting past them to do it. And if we’re lucky we can salvage what’s left when we’re done.” 

“No.” You were surprised just how many people said this at the same time. But you didn’t wait for the silence to clear. “Let me get this straight- sorry I’m the last horse finishing the race here- so we have to get aboard all three of Project Insight’s helicarriers, insert keys with a payload- all at the right time- to try and take them down- and you want to take them back?” 

“Oh. I must have misunderstood.” Tony dropped the stick on the table so he could cross his arms. “Was that the plan? Sorry. I have a complete destruction order.” 

Steve waved a hand. “We’re not salvaging anything. We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down SHIELD.” 

This shocked you, if only a little. It was nice to have everyone on the same side- but to think Steve and Tony had talked, in your brief lapse of unconsciousness and recovery, about fully dismantling SHIELD? That was… 

Fury was getting pretty upset. “SHIELD had nothing to do with this.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Tony’s smart sass cutting the room. “Seems like SHIELD had everything to do with this. Negligence and ignorance don’t exactly scream innocence to me.” 

Steve shook his head. “You gave us this mission, this is how it ends. SHIELD's been compromised. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.” 

Scoffing, Nick half turned to level an icy glare Steve’s way. “Why do you think we’re down here? I noticed.” 

Squaring up, Steve met him blow for blow, voice lowering. “And how many paid the price before you did?” 

You were grateful when Natasha stepped between them. “We don’t have time for another quarrel of ethics.” Then she looked right at Nick. “...and for the record-” 

Fury turned his head down. “You agree. Yeah. That’s the consensus, huh? We all agree?” Looking around the room then. 

“SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes.” Steve giving the last order on this matter. 

       ��                                              ----

There was an very limited window to suit up- almost an impossibility for you, seeing as yours was extremely damaged. Tony had been working on it alongside getting those USBs loaded. He was nothing if not a genius- and a genius multi-tasker, at that. But even so… 

He looked a little beat up himself as he handed your Heart Reactor back to you. “We need a plan.” Not physically damaged- yet- but… for one reason or another pretty emotionally wounded.

Even though he pressed the device into your palm, he was reluctant to let go. From your position on the bed you looked up at him. “Isn’t that something we should do with everyone out there?” The team had left the two of you for some privacy, but it wouldn’t last long. 

And if it was time to start forming groups and figuring out who did what, everyone needed to be present for that. He frowned lightly, letting his fingers slip away from yours. “I did the best I could- given my extremely limited time, tool set, and inhospitable environment-” 

Trying to cut his grumbling off, you shifted off the bed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure it’s fine.” Pushing the Reactor to your chest after. 

But he wasn’t able to let you go yet, as his hands came to your hips. “You know I’d never speak bad about my own work- but- it’s not enough. You get backed into another corner like that again- you might not make it out.” 

“Well- we have almost the whole team, right? It’s less likely to happen again-” 

“Be serious about this, for a second- and- that’s coming from me.” He was in that twisted mood he always fell into when you got hurt. When he had to come at the very end of a fight or a mishap, and you were in bad shape. It scared him straight to his core. It unnerved him, same as it made him angry. “You know I think you can do anything- and I know you won’t just go home- so can we please just split the difference and have you on civilian escort? These things aren’t going down without a fight, and there’s a lot of people in the giant radius we’re looking at that are gonna get hurt.” 

Innocent people, as always. That had nothing to do with any of this. And no chance to help themselves. No means, either. As fire rained down on them within seconds, without notice, and would trap them. Yes. Someone needed to be on civilian duty. You just… didn’t want it to be you. Not because you were above that sort of thing, you weren’t, that was one of the most important jobs there was. But… 

“I have fought with Nick and with SHIELD and with- probably all of this longer than I realized I was. And that guy, whoever the hell he is-” 

“We’ve got bad news on that front, too.” Interrupting you so suddenly that it cut your little rant short. 

“What now?” Who could it be? Who else could you possibly know that would make this a startling revelation at this point? 

“Haven’t heard the full story. But whisperings around the dingy water cooler out there are that it’s Rogers’ friend.” 

Alright. Not a startling revelation, being that you would have no idea who that was. But kind of… upsetting? Nervewracking? What was the right word here? “How is that possible?”

Tony crossed his arms after shrugging his shoulders. “We’re in a SHIELD sewer after Hydra just exploded out of the woodworks. Anything’s possible at this point, wouldn’t you say? Maybe he got a shot of the same serum. I don’t know. But the point is- this just got personal. So we should let Rogers handle it.” 

But this was just not convincing enough. One of Steve’s old war buddies? Back from the dead- now some crazy super powered killing machine? And going after Steve no less? Hired by the bad guys? There seemed to be a lot of missing pieces here. “You know- there are billions of people on the planet. Especially considering he’s also got a whole lifetime gap. Aren’t we doing the whole- thinking about a zebra when it’s probably a horse thing?” 

“I’m always of the mind to agree with you. But he seems pretty set on this.” “Then I need to talk to him before we leave.” The only way this would start to make any sense. It had to happen, anyway. While you weren’t entirely convinced he was someone Steve knew, you were sure you’d seen something… off about him. Then again. You’d been shot near point blank in the chest and had gone down pretty hard. It was hard to remember what you thought you’d seen. 

There was just a lingering feeling of something not being right. 

“Good luck with that. He could barely look me in the eye. He’s gonna give you the same flight plan. And probably skirt around everything else.” 

This was a fucking mess. And not exactly the right time to be in one. “You? Why? What happened?” 

Tony’s brows knitted before he aimed a dry look your way. “You walked directly in front of a bullet with his name on it- he said it himself. He’s feeling pretty rough about it.” 

There was a whisper here, almost too easy to catch: And he should. You tried to keep your own stare back not… judging or accusing, but… “Did you yell at him?” 

“Yell?” Almost as if he couldn’t believe you’d ask something like that. But as you continued to stare at him, not backing down, he broke, raising his hands in a sign of defense. “Not- I wouldn’t call it yelling- it was a very sternly worded ten minute monologue.” 

“And if he took a shot for me, you’d yell- sorry- ten minute sternly monologue at me, is that right?” 

His answer was quick and biting as he settled his hands on your upper arms in a soft hold, almost begging you to understand with the look he leveled your way. “Much as I like Steve- honey- I’ve known you far longer. And much as we’re all a team- you’re the one I’m worried about, at the end of the day. Because you’re the one that’s important to me. That I get to come home to, when things are settled. That I spend my time with. I didn’t come at him because you put yourself in a situation for him that he couldn’t get out of. Way he told that story- he has every right to feel bad about it. And if you’d died over it-” 

Sooner than either of you had realized, the grip he was holding you in had grown too tight, and you pressed your lips together once, reaching to soothe your hands up his chest. “Tony…” Softly, urging him to calm himself. 

It seemed to break him free of the dark storm cloud he’d been sucked up into. As he took a breath and relaxed his hands, he dropped his head, gathering his thoughts. His eyes were gentle but resolved when he found yours again. “Don’t ask me to explain why it upsets me- the danger you’re constantly in. You know why. I love you. And it’s not about doing the right thing. It’s that you had to make a choice. His life or yours. And he never should have needed you to do that for him.” 

Despite it feeling sort of… wrong to argue with him about this- especially considering how fragile he suddenly was over this, because it was you, you couldn’t bite it all back. This wasn’t Steve’s fault. “He thought it was someone he’d knew-” Right? That was why he’d frozen. 

“If Rhodey pointed a gun at me I wouldn’t just wait for him to shoot me, or for someone to step in front of that bullet for me-”

“You know Rhodey’s alive- if it’s someone that was supposed to be dead-” 

“What- how far you want me to go back- if my dad had dug himself out of his grave- I still wouldn’t-” 

“Alright- alright! Calm down- take it easy!” 

His words had grown sharp and almost terrifying. It was why you knew you shouldn’t have tried to argue with him- he wasn’t going to relent on this. But the darkness that had suddenly manifested was… not an easy thing to deal with. Reaching up, you cupped the sides of his jaw in your palms, easing him away from that edge. 

He took a breath. Stabilizing, almost. And then sinking into your hold on him, shoulders drooping. “Honey… I will sit by your bedside as many times as I need to. Just like you do for me. Because that’s what we’ve put ourselves in. That’s what we decided we were doing. But this was different. Shock or not. He picked a side, when the other side he was on was losing. And he’ll pick it again. I guarantee it.” 

“Why? Why do you think you know that?” Almost begging to understand why he was going in so hard on this. He and Steve respected each other. Got along. And even though you knew he loved you- so desperately so- that didn’t mean that this had to put a wedge in between things. 

As he almost slipped away from you, seeming like he didn’t want to say what he seemed to know, you held his face up. Not letting him escape. Leveling his gaze with yours again. Waiting. “I heard them in the hall, while you were out. Old buddy of Rogers- shows up out of the blue- working for Hydra. They’re leaning pretty hard on the assumption something’s not right upstairs- if it even is him. Who do you think they’re waiting to put in the ring again. On the off chance they’re right. Who do you think they’re willing to use as collateral damage?” 

It was quite a different feeling, your heart breaking over the mistrust of people you thought were friends. “Stop.” But it couldn’t be true. He was hurting. And maybe he’d heard some semblance of this plan- but this couldn’t be the whole of it. Nor did you think he would make it up. So the truth was somewhere in the middle. “We can just talk to them. And find out.” Which was your preferred method of doing things. Nobody ever won running whisper campaigns. 

“I’m not trying to start something. I’m just… doing what they are.” 

“And that is?” 

He answered with a startling conviction. “Picking my side.” 

“Tony…” It was as warming as it was unnerving. “It’s one guy. We don’t know anything yet.” 

You found a little relief as he nodded. “Yeah. I’m not trying to pick apart the team. I’m just… trying to make it clear. Where my loyalties lie.” 

At this- at the very least- you couldn’t help the twitch of a smile. “Never a doubt in my mind.” 

His head dipped in a little, voice lowering. “I will always pick you. It’s always you, for me.”

...at this, it was impossible to not let the unnerving part drift away and instead sink into the warmth, only, instead. His devotion for you touched you right at your core. Easing up on your tiptoes, and bringing him closer, you kissed him carefully, winding your arms around his neck, ignoring the quick spark of pain in your chest. His hands came to steady you, palming over your hips. While you wanted it to go on forever, at this point, having missed him terribly in that small time apart- 

There was work to do. And aside that, as you broke, you let him know quietly, “I’ll always pick you, too.” In the important things- the things where lines had to be drawn. That wasn’t now, you were sure. But… if there ever was a time… you and Tony were a team. Inseparable. 

That was the way it was meant to be. 

“I love you.”  A careful and sure murmur against your lips. 

One that was easy to repeat. “I love you, too, Tony.” 

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya Chapter 6: Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

“The Grand Ballroom” was certainly an apt description. The marble dancefloor was inlaid with veins of gold and sparkling quartz, its flat surface so polished it hurt to look at. Plush, wine red carpet lined the perimeter, perfectly matching the cushions of elaborately carved loveseats and couches. Six-foot tall, solid gold candelabras were scattered throughout the room, the flickering flames dancing as gracefully as the guests. Enormous, stained-glass windows depicting hedonistic scenes stretched from floor to ceiling, the colored glass obscuring the view of the outside world. Burgundy velvet drapes trimmed in gold were artfully hung throughout the room, their heavy material casting deep shadows in private nooks perfect for illicit rendezvous.

To the side was a massive buffet, the tables straining under trays of assorted meats, exotic fruits, decadent pastries, tartlets, brie, beef wellingtons, deviled eggs, and more. A literal fountain of wine stood at the center of the smorgasbord, cherubs pouring the intoxicating liquid out of decanters into the guests’ crystal glasses.

The ceiling was the most impressive aspect, though. Above the crowd hung eight massive, golden chandeliers in the shape of octopi, each winding tentacle clutching a light the size of a human head. Multi-faceted crystals dripped off their bulbous bodies like drops of water, making it appear they’d just emerged from the sea and casting shards of light and prismatic rainbows dancing about the walls and floor.

Not to be outdone, the guests that milled about wore their finest costumes, with ballgowns, doublets, tailcoats, hats, capes, masks, and jewelry made from silks, satins, chiffon, precious gems, and exotic furs and feathers. Maids clad in short, tight, copper uniforms wove through the crowd, offering drinks, hors d’oeuvres, and petit fours. A small orchestra was set up in the far corner of the room, filling the air with their slow, elegant music.

It was exactly the kind of party that had Nami salivating. Rich men with thick wallets and wealthy women wearing expensive jewelry were laid out more temptingly than the food.

Still, the décor did bring up a few questions. “If the Baron hates seafood so much, why all the octopi?” she asked curiously, studying the ceiling.

Behind the mask, Law looked thoughtful. “I’d assume it’s a vanity thing; according to my intel, he was touted as ‘The Golden Octopus’ during his time in the Navy.”

“Why?”

“Probably a reference to the number of organizations he was involved in, though there were also rumors about him having an octopus-related Devil Fruit. That seems unlikely, though.”

“What makes you say that?”

“No Devil Fruit user would keep his important files in a Seastone safe. Just touching the damn thing would drain his energy. Besides, don’t you think the World Government would have made that common knowledge to strike fear into pirates? They’ve never exactly been shy about bragging about their officers’ powers.”

Nervously checking her cat mask to ensure it was tightly secured, she said lowly, “You’d better be right; if it turns out he can turn into an octopus or something I’m charging you for shitty intel.”

Casually, the pair meandered through the crowd, giving polite greetings and sizing up potential prey. The Cat Thief had already picked out a few marks; men who’d cast her salacious leers, despite her being on another’s arm. They’d be easily distracted by her cleavage and flattery and wouldn’t even notice their pockets getting progressively lighter. Even better, Law’s presence would also give her the ideal excuse to turn down their inevitable, unwanted advances. Nothing fended off creeps like a jealous boyfriend, after all, and in high society, you never wanted to risk causing a scene. She’d just have to make sure he knew when to step in.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Law murmured in her ear, “I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight, so if you need me, adjust your hairpins and I’ll come to your rescue.”

“‘Rescue’ is a strong word, but I appreciate it,” she responded, tone dripping with false affection as she straightened his lapels, acting as the ever-attentive beau. “Tell me, Adrian, are you the type to tolerate other men flirting with your girlfriend?”

“Of course not. What’s mine is mine, and men challenge that claim at their own peril.” His reply was smooth as polished obsidian, one hand possessively resting on her waist as he steered them over to the side of the dance floor. The thick leather of the black glove shielded her from the heat of his palm, but the weight and press of his fingers into her delicate flesh made up for it.

Teasingly, she tapped the tip of his beak. “That doesn’t sound very doctor-like. Isn’t there a Hippocratic Oath you’re supposed to be following?”

“There are exceptions to every rule.” Long fingers gently lifted her chin so he could gaze deeply into her eyes. “There’s no oath I wouldn’t break to keep my woman at my side.”

Damn, that line should not be so hot, she thought, the faint blush painting her cheeks visible just beneath the bottom of her mask. It was surprising how easily Law managed to turn on the charm and hide the far creepier meaning of his words. If she were an average woman with no knowledge of his criminal activities or identity as one of the most feared up-and-coming pirates of the current generation, she might swoon a little bit.

Nami really needed more practice dealing with handsome men flirting with her. She was far too used to friendly, harmless perverts like Brook and Sanji, or disgusting lechers like Absalom. Besides being physically attractive, Law’s flirtations were harder to brush off because she completely believed him when he said he was pickier about his women than the rest of his crew. Perhaps that was why he got her so flustered; he didn’t wear his desires on his sleeve, so his attention felt more…focused, like sunlight through a magnifying glass, burning away her defenses.

“And what about you?” he coaxed, lifting her hand to delicately press the tips of her fingers to his lips as his eyes bore into hers. Electric shocks tingled up her hand as heat coiled within her belly. It was way too easy to imagine him giving her that look in a dark bedroom as he slowly stripped off her clothes. “Are you the type to play with a man’s heart? The type to stray? Or are you just so naturally charming you don’t realize the kind of thoughts you put in men’s minds?”

It took her a moment to realize he was asking for the sake of the cover; to establish his reaction when he barged in on her flirtations with other men.

His interest and sensual actions were solely for the sake of the cover. For business, not pleasure. None of it was real, and she grasped that fact like a lifeline. It was so much easier to remain in control if she remembered that it wasn’t Law that was flirting with her, but Dr. Goodheart Adrian, Chaton Bellemere’s surgeon lover. Hell, he was wearing a mask—she could easily pretend that he wasn’t her dangerously attractive temporary captain, but another mark she could tease and deceive with no consequences.

Lips quirking in a saucy, mischievous grin, she leaned in close, breath ghosting across his throat as she replied, “I’d never cheat, but I am the kind of woman who likes to see if she can get her boyfriend jealous. There’s something so arousing about seeing such a normally composed doctor so worked up over little old me.”

Her response made Law pause, blinking owlishly in surprise before his grip on her hand tightened ever-so-slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “How jealous do you want?” he rasped, giving the pad of her middle finger a light nip. “I’m happy to break a few jaws before I carry you off.”

A tiny hiss of pleasure escaped between her teeth before she regained control. Pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his sharp jaw, just below his ear, she murmured, “I’m sure these men don’t want any trouble; just come up with an excuse to lead me away. A little decorum goes a long way, after all.”

She’d planned on flouncing away and getting to work mingling and stealing, but her whole body froze as she caught a familiar scent.

Tobacco smoke, thick and sweet wafted up her nose, and as her heart stuttered in her chest, Nami slowly turned her head to the side, following the grey trail to a large, imposing figure glowering at the crowd as if he’d like to arrest half the people in the room. His formal suit was as white as his hair, his forest green tie and matching domino mask the only pop of color. With the long scar down his face and signature cigar, the mask did nothing to hide his identity.

“What the hell is he doing here?” she squeaked, panicked and already trying to figure out the best way to escape.

“Hina, what the fuck am I doing here?!” Smoker growled, not bothering to keep his voice down.

Beside him, a beautiful woman with long, sakura pink hair and a cigarette dangling from her full, red lips sighed. She was dressed in a stunning, form-fitting silver gown embroidered with fluttering blackbirds, the silk flowing down her figure like mercury. Her mask, also silver but with a black feathered plume, hung absently from her fingers. “Because you owe me. After all the strings I’ve pulled over the years to keep you from getting demoted back down to Chore Boy, this is the least you can do.”

“Look, Hina, I know I owe you, but you could have asked me to do your paperwork for a month or something. Fancy crap with stuffed shirts isn’t my thing, especially when it means playing nice with that bastard. Why couldn’t you take someone Fullbody or Django? They’d be happy to shower you with attention and ask you to waltz and that other gentlemanly shit.”

Shoulders tense as she carefully observed the crowd, she stated, “Precisely because this isn’t your thing. I need you to stand next to me looking grumpy and miserable to keep stupid ass-kissers and perverted old octopi from asking me to dance. Hina hates that old creep.”

Though his teeth ground against his cigar, the corner of his mouth lifted into the barest hint of a smile. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess I am the perfect man for the job.”

“Did you know they were going to be here?” Nami asked under her breath, pressing close to her partner. Smoker was only about fifteen feet away, but the din of the crowd and orchestral music helped mask her voice. Her every instinct screamed for her to run, but she knew any sudden movement around the pirate hunter would capture his undivided attention, like a rabbit trying to escape a wolf. Inwardly, she seethed; if Uni had managed to modify the guest list, surely he would have known a certain Marine was coming, right? Why didn’t anyone warn her? Everybody knew there was nothing Smoker would like better than to capture and imprison the Straw Hats.

Her anger ebbed slightly as Law pulled her a bit closer, doing his best to shield her with his body. Though his poker face was still in place, she could feel the tension coiled in his muscles. “I knew Black Cage was invited, but her RSVP was a ‘no.’ I’d assumed she was cleaning up the mess of the war or helping track down the prisoners Mugiwara released from Impel Down. White Chase was definitely not on the guest list.”

“What do we do?”

“Keep calm. It’s a big party, and it shouldn’t be too hard to avoid them. Even if they notice us, our disguises should allay suspicion, and there’s no way they’d expect the two of us together.”

He was right; even if they did somehow recognize Law, they’d never expect the navigator of a rival crew on his arm, meaning she might be able to make a break for it. She wasn’t too worried about his safety; he was a strong fighter and could teleport himself to the other side of the island in a heartbeat. She was the one who would be screwed if she caught a Marine’s eye.

Surreptitiously, Nami peeked around Law’s chest to watch the pair, hoping for some sign they’d move on to another part of the ballroom, but soon found herself staring at the beautiful captain. Bad as her experiences with the World Government were, she couldn’t help but admire a strong Marine woman. And though the hairstyle was different, the color and cigarette briefly brought visions of her adoptive mother, and she wondered if Hina had heard of Bellemere. There weren’t too many female officers in the Marines; had she been renowned enough for someone like Hina to look up to? Or was her decision to give up military life to raise two orphaned girls treated as a disgrace? The Navy hadn’t offered any financial assistance or seemed to care when she’d been murdered by pirates, so the latter seemed more likely.

Of course, a trained soldier would sense she was being watched, and Hina inclined her head towards the incognito couple. “You’ve been staring at me. Why?” she asked suspiciously, taking a long drag of her cigarette as her dark eyes narrowed.

Luckily, years of swindling, being a member of Arlong’s crew, and generally always needing to get herself out of trouble had made Nami a pretty good actress, even under pressure. “I was just admiring your dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous!” she gushed, making her voice as airheaded and overexcited as she could under the Marine’s scrutiny. “Wherever did you get it?”

Apparently, her ruse worked, as she gave a small but pleased smile. “Thank you. There’s a shop in Alabasta that carries beautiful silks. I stumbled across it while on a mission and decided to treat myself. When I learned I’d be attending this…party, a dressmaker on Sabaody made them into a custom gown for me.”

“Alabasta! How exotic! Oh, darling, can we go there on our next holiday?” she asked, looking up at Law, wide brown eyes begging him to play along. “I simply must have a dress like that!”

Catching on, the doctor once more pulled her close, dropping a kiss to her hair. “If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Nothing’s too good for you, sweetheart.”

She gave him a dazzling grin, wrapping her arms around his waist in an enthusiastic hug. “Really?! Oh, thank you, cuddle bear!”

Internally, Nami cheered in victory as his jaw tightened and blue tint came to his cheeks. She might not get to kick his ass, but she could still make his night hell in all the little ways. “You’re…welcome,” he ground out.

“Hina-chan!” a loud, overly cheerful voice called out from the crowd, and an older, obese man strode over. His tuxedo was gold silk and embroidered with scarlet octopi, a long, crimson cape trailing behind him. His grey hair was thin, braided into eight little rattails, and slicked back with so much oil it gleamed like grease on the water. A gold octopus mask hung from his neck, the tentacles a writhing mass and encrusted with rubies for suckers. “How marvelous! You were able to make it after all!”

Both Marines noticeably stiffened at his approach. “Well, after your call, my superiors were convinced that attending your party was more important than attending to my duties,” she said, tone so frosty it made Drum Island seem like a tropical paradise.

“Oh, don’t be that way, Hina-chan,” Baron Harpin chuckled, giving her an appreciative leer. The way the captain tensed further made it clear the feeling wasn’t mutual. “Always so serious, even back when you were a trainee. Really, you should be grateful I pushed so hard to get you a night off—it pains me to think of such a beautiful flower wilting on the battlefield. I swear I’ll never forgive Sengoku for denying my request to have you as my personal secretary.”

“Hina’s too damn good a soldier to waste on some pathetic desk job,” Smoker’s deep, rough voice cut in, muscular arms crossed tightly over his massive chest. “And she ain’t wilting—she thrives out there.”

The Baron regarded him with undisguised disdain. “I don’t recall inviting you.”

“I’m Hina’s plus-one, or did you not notice that on the RSVP? Pretty sloppy for the head of Navy Intelligence. Sorry—ex-head of Navy Intelligence.”

The pirate hunter’s biting comment struck a nerve, as disregard turned into outright hatred. “Careful, Smoker; I may be retired, but I’ve still got plenty of pull with the Admirals, plus several other organizations. One word from me and your career is over.”

A threatening step forward was all Smoker was able to take before Hina held him back. “He’s not worth it,” she murmured before insistently leading him away.

“Just one moment, Hina-chan,” their host sing-songed. When the woman in question acknowledged him over her shoulder, he gave a haughty grin. “I know I permitted you a plus-one, but that’s because I’d assumed you’d bring along someone with more…class. I surround myself with only the finest things, after all. I’m rather inclined to have him escorted out for the sake of my invited guests; trash like him tends to ruin the ambiance.”

Turning fully towards him, though still keeping a restraining hand on Smoker’s bicep, she stated, “What do you want?”

His returning leer was as greasy as his hair. “A smile. Surely such a rare and radiant thing will counteract your…date’s foul appearance.”

“Oh, that fuckin—” Smoker growled, but Hina’s silent glare stopped him. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, the Marine captain plastered on a bland, completely hollow smile for their former superior before dragging her old friend out to the gardens to smoke in peace.

“Be sure to save me a dance, Hina-chan!” he called after them, entirely too gleeful to have the last word. As he beamed at his guests, his black, watery eyes fell on Nami, and she swore she could feel his gaze creep over her like a writhing mass of tentacles.

Not wanting to hang around lest Harpin decided to come over and introduce himself, she gave Law’s elbow a slight tug, and he willingly let her lead him away towards one of the little alcoves. “Well, he seems…yeah, he’s a total creep.”

“I feel like I need a chemical shower just being in his presence,” Law conferred lowly, grabbing them both a glass of champagne before ducking behind the curtains. The drapes mostly hid them from view, but he strategically positioned himself so his shoulder blocked the slight gap in the heavy velvet, yet still allowed him to notice anyone approaching. “Pity Black Cage didn’t deck him in the jaw.”

“I was hoping Smoker would make him eat his own mask.” She swiftly changed the subject, unwilling to risk one of their fellow guests overhearing them badmouth their host. “I was not expecting those two. I mean, not just here—do you think they’re dating?”

Law rubbed his chin in consideration. “I hope not. Any progeny they might produce would be an absolute nightmare to pirates the world over. The tobacco industry would be thrilled, though.”

Unbidden, a giggle escaped her as an image of a tiny Marine with Smoker’s scowl and Hina’s pink hair popped into her head, an oversized cigar comically protruding from the child’s mouth.

“Of course, that’s assuming they don’t both die of lung cancer before then,” he added absently, sipping his drink. Grey eyes swept the room over his shoulder, noting that most of the guests had the tact to look away from the alcoves, especially those occupied by couples engaged in private moments. A long arm wrapped around Nami’s tiny waist, pulling the gorgeous woman against his hip so he could murmur in her ear, “But enough about that. What else should I know about my lovely Bellemere? How did we meet?”

Playing along, she ran the tips of her fingers along his chest beneath his jacket. They should have discussed this earlier, but in the craziness of the mission prep, it had fallen by the wayside. “At an auction, of course,” she supplied easily. “There was a wonderful mermaid piece that I had taken an interest in.”

A low chuckle caressed her as he wound a lock of purple hair around his finger. The easiest lies to keep up were ones based on truth, and there was no hiding his amusement at how she’d spun the debacle at Sabaody. “Of course. You and your companions got separated, and I graciously offered to keep you company until you could be reunited. Not long after, I performed life-saving surgery on your friend, and you’ve been at my side ever since.”

His arrogant tone made her roll her eyes. “Does Dr. Goodheart have any notable achievements to his name? I can’t imagine I’d be interested in a mediocre doctor, and you must have gotten your medical license somewhere.”

“Gotten a what now?”

When she stared at him in open horror, jaw dropping to the floor, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “I reattached a girl’s leg during my first year at Serenity Hospital in the North Blue,” he stated with a grin. “I was accepted into med school at fifteen and finished my surgical residency in only three years, and I also have several published papers on the effects of lead poisoning in children.”

“Really?” she replied, skepticism dripping from her lips.

“Of course. I could only learn so much through books and practicing on my friends, so I took on the identity of Goodheart Adrian so I could perfect my skills. ‘Trafalgar Law’ was a name I didn’t want gaining notoriety until I had the power and skills to protect myself.”

Well, that was quite the revelation. Frankly, she’d always figured he was only a doctor in the back-alley sense, since no hospital would be crazy enough to give him an actual license. But to have had a second identity for so long…

“Why?”

Grey eyes narrowed behind his mask at her inquiry. “Focus on questions relevant to our current situation, sweetheart.”

Cheeks puffed out indignantly, she let the topic drop, mostly out of irritation that he was right. Besides, she didn’t want to get to know the real Law, did she? “Fine. Where’d you take me on our first date? I’m sure a doctor’s salary could afford a fancy dinner, at least.”

As if a switch had been flipped, his charming persona returned. She knew it was all for show, especially given how the alcove didn’t completely hide them if someone really felt like being a voyeur, but did he have to rub those distracting little circles against her spine? “Since you have such expensive tastes, we went to the En L’iar Rose restaurant on Chardonnay Island. It’s known for its exquisite wines and decadent foods. You ordered the Pane Caldo while I had the stuffed mushrooms, and we shared a plate of assorted artisan cheeses, fruits, and chocolates for dessert.”

“That’s…an acceptable choice, I suppose.” A small, irrational coil of envy tightened in her belly. She wasn’t mad that Law had probably taken some other woman on such a romantic outing—just that no guy had put that much effort into a date with her.

His smirk was decidedly wicked. “You were such a tease with that fruit, eating it so seductively I nearly lost my mind. It took all my willpower not to pin you down and have my way with you.”

Memories of how she’d teased him with the mikans made her thighs clench, as she was suddenly all too aware that she’d been playing with fire that day. He’d definitely enjoyed her attentions and it so easily could have been turned on her. The tips of her ears turned pink as she instinctively tried to push him away, but his muscular arm kept her anchored to his side. “Too bad I’m a classy lady who doesn’t just give it up to a guy because he bought her a fancy dinner,” she snapped quietly.

“Of course you’re not; I wouldn’t have taken interest in you if you were,” he assured, tilting her face to the right and pressing a kiss to her masked cheek to hide her pissed expression. “I’m a man who likes a challenge—a woman easily seduced would bore me. And it’s intriguing how you’re so flirtatious one moment, yet easily flustered the next; makes me wonder what you’ll be like once I finally do get you in my bed.”

Face flushing to match her ears, Nami wasn’t sure if it was due to anger or embarrassment. She also wasn’t sure if he was speaking as Adrian or Law, and it was playing havoc with her sense of control. “Well, you’ll be wondering for quite some time—at the very least until you’ve gotten me a 300-carat diamond.”

A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he released her. “I think we’ve got enough of the basics down to pass as a new couple. Ready to get to work?”

It took a moment and a few deep breaths to regain her composure. Her heart was beating too quickly for her liking, and she desperately needed some distance. “Hell yes. Time is money, and right now, I don’t have nearly enough of either.”

XXX

Over an hour later, Nami was immensely pleased with her haul. She’d swiped the wallets of six dance partners, along with a gold wristwatch, emerald-studded cufflinks, and some rings. She’d been extremely careful not to steal more than one thing from each target, and plenty of her dance partners had left unscathed; after all, if every man she came in contact with found their wallets missing, she’d be the prime suspect.

Finding dance partners and wealthy marks alike had been easier than getting Sanji to bring her tea. Men had practically swarmed her the moment she’d broken away from Law, and though she could feel his piercing gaze on her back, he stayed out of her way so she could work her magic.

So far, he’d only had to step in once, when a man with a face like a horse and a unicorn mask to match had gotten a little too handsy, swooping in like a bird of prey and sending her victim scurrying off with nothing more than a sharp glare and a couple cutting remarks. Still, the way he’d clutched his cane told her he’d wanted to do a lot more, reminding her that the Surgeon of Death was not a man to be messed with. While a jealous boyfriend was a great creep deterrent, too much could put off her potential marks. For the sake of that evening’s profits, she vowed to only call him in as a last resort.

She would swear until her dying breath it had nothing to do with the thrill she got at hearing Law defend her honor in his deep voice or the way she could feel the muscles beneath his suit flex when he clutched her to him possessively.

It was nearly nine-thirty when a skinny man in an elaborate peacock mask and flamboyant suit to match lead her onto the dancefloor. He’d approached swinging an emerald and sapphire-encrusted pocket watch like a pendulum, strutting about in a way that instantly practically begged her to rob him. Only men with more money than brains walked like that.

“So, Ms. Chaton,” Kujakumaru began as he pulled her close, “what do you do for a living?”

As easily as Zoro drew a sword, she turned on the charm. “Oh, I’ve done a little modeling,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes. “Mostly swimsuits and the like.”

“Really? You?”

She blinked, brows furrowing behind her mask in confusion and mild annoyance. “Yes. Not in any big magazines, but I’ve only just started, after all.”

“Ah, no wonder I hadn’t heard of you,” he stated, looking her up and down, eyes lingering on the swell of her chest. “I’ve dated quite a few models, actually. I suppose when you surround yourself with the most gorgeous women in the world, you don’t notice those who are less than a perfect ten.”

An annoyed tic formed on her forehead, thankfully hidden by the cat mask. Sure, he couldn’t see her face, but the way his eyes were practically glued to her cleavage proved he didn’t find her hideous. And what right did he have to call her less than a ten? Her bounty poster was ogled by pirates all over the Grand Line! “Well, sorry I’m not up to your usual standards, Mr. Kujakumaru,” she ground out as politely as she could.

At the brief display of temper, he quickly backtracked, “Oh, I never said that! Of course you’re beautiful, but I’d only rank you less than a ten because you’ve still got a few more years to go before you’ve fully bloomed!” he insisted, gaze flickering between her face and breasts pointedly.

Oh, nice save, she thought sarcastically. It was all too easy to catch onto this idiot’s game; he was trying to bring down her confidence in hopes preying on any insecurities. Women who knew their worth were much harder to lure into bed, after all. “Well, my boyfriend hasn’t had any complaints,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure he hasn’t; after all, looks aren’t everything.” When her hazelnut eyes narrowed, he continued, “You misunderstand me; I mean that modeling is just as much about who you know as what you look like. Making friends with the right people and whatnot.”

“Of course.” It was almost funny; the whole night, she’d put up with men looking to get into her pants without so much as blinking, yet this guy was making her lose her cool. Then again, none of the others had tried negging her. People like that deserved a very special place in hell as far as she was concerned. If they’d been in a bar instead of some fancy party, he’d be unconscious on the floor for his comments.

“If you really want to be a model, I have some connections to the West Blue’s top agencies. Of course, I only pass along the names of people I’m personally close to.”

Though she plastered on a smile, inwardly she rolled her eyes. He was the third man that night offering to help her “modeling career” with his “connections,” but they’d at least done their best to stroke her ego first. He hadn’t even waited for her response before slipping his hand off her waist to slide across her rear.

That little grope just cost him eighty million belli, she thought, using his moment of distraction to carefully undo the chain of his pocket watch from his doublet. To disguise the action, she pushed him back slightly, looking away coyly. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you! Unfortunately, it’s more of a hobby than anything else; if I became some big star, I wouldn’t have as much freedom. I love traveling and shopping too much to waste my time in some studio.”

“Sounds like an expensive lifestyle,” he pressed, undeterred by her refusal, just like she’d anticipated. Nami was plenty familiar with men like him; born with a silver spoon in his mouth, raised to believe that he was entitled to anything he wanted and when a woman rebuffed him, she didn’t really mean it.

He was the kind of guy she would love to have Sanji kick into the sun.

Lacking the chivalrous love-cook, however, Nami settled for her current bodyguard. “It is, but Dr. Goodheart has been an excellent provider. His research takes him to so many interesting places, and he’s been adamant about bringing me along. He gets lonely without me.”

“Then I’m surprised he’s letting you dance with another man.”

A mischievous smirk touched the corner of her lips. “We have an arrangement—he doesn’t like to dance, but I simply can’t get enough of it. So, he lets me have as many partners as I please, so long as I never dance with anyone more than once.” As the last notes of the waltz floated through the air, she knew now was the time to make her getaway. Pushing up onto her tip-toes, she murmured in his ear as she carefully lifted the watch from his pocket, slipping it into the tight cuff of her billowy sleeve, “Otherwise, he gets terribly jealous. Normally, he’s so cool and collected, but he’s got a dark temper. It’s hot, if I’m perfectly honest.”

She felt Kujakumaru shudder against her as her hot breath caressed his skin. “Is dancing the only thing he gets jealous about?” he croaked, staring at her with obvious desire, hands impotently grasping at empty air as she stepped out of his reach. “Perhaps we could find a nice, quiet corner and continue our discussion about your modeling career; a beauty like you deserves to be shared, not hoarded away for one man to enjoy.”

Relieved that she could finally turn around and roll her eyes, she strolled towards the wine fountain, calling back over her shoulder, “I appreciate the thought, but I really must get back to Adrian.”

She halted as a thin, sweaty hand wrapped around her wrist. “At a party like this, a man’s never lonely for long. I’m sure he’s found some pretty young thing to keep him company, so why not do the same for me?”

Lifting up her free arm, she allowed the cold metal of the stolen watch to slide down her sleeve into her bodice, grateful that he’d grabbed her left wrist. It would have been disastrous if he’d stumbled upon the payment she’d taken for putting up with his bullshit. Absently, she played with the shimmering barrettes in her hair, making sure they caught the light like an emergency beacon. Surely Law would be there any moment; this was definitely serious enough to get him involved. “Adrian’s quite adamant that I’m the only woman for him, so I doubt it. And if a man’s not lonely for long, I’m sure you’ll find yourself in pleasant enough company soon enough.”

“I want your company. Your little boyfriend can wait until I’m finished with you.”

“He’s hardly ‘little.’”

“He must be if he can’t satisfy a woman as obsessed with ‘dancing’ as you. In fact, how about I invite a few friends to join us?’ You said he doesn’t care how many ‘dance partners’ you have, right?”

Brown eyes darted about nervously, desperately trying to catch sight of her raven companion. She was certain she’d left him by the window next to the fountain, so he should have been at her side already. What, had he wandered off to take a leak? If he didn’t show himself in the next five seconds, she was going to have to do something drastic, like pluck the peacock’s feathers herself.

“What was that you were saying about him not looking at other women?” Kujakumaru crowed, roughly turning her towards the dancefloor.

Her jaw dropped. His height made him easy to spot on the dancefloor, casually leading Black Cage Hina in a foxtrot.

That absolute bastard! Nami thought, rage bubbling up inside of her. He abandoned his partner to deal with some clingy creep so he could dance with a Marine? Was he trying to get them caught?!

“Well, since your boyfriend is otherwise occupied,” the man beside her sniggered, pulling her against him, “what say you and I go someplace private—”

The hard point of a cane slammed into his foot, causing him to yelp ungracefully and release Nami from his clutches. Gratefully, she turned to her liberator, hoping Law had abandoned Hina to finally come save her, only to find herself face-to-face with a rotund, yet rather elegant-looking gentleman dressed as a knight, complete with silver shoulder pads, royal blue cape, and plumed helmet. The faceplate was up to reveal piercing black eyes and a disapproving frown made even more exaggerated by his bushy grey mustache.

“I believe this young lady made it quite clear that your time with her is over, nephew,” he said sternly.

Kujakumaru looked like he wanted to argue, but when he reached for Nami again, the knight brandished his cane like a sword. “Oh, please, do try. Beatrix may spoil you rotten, but I’m certainly not above turning you over my knee right here and now.”

That threat was all it took to send the peacock flying off into the crowd, managing nothing more than, “I’m telling mother!” over his shoulder before he disappeared.

Relieved to finally be free of such sweaty clutches, the Cat Thief studied her wrist to ensure no perspiration had leaked into the luxurious fabric of her sleeve. A handkerchief entered her field of vision, and she smiled thankfully.

“So, did you pick your costume intending to go about rescuing young ladies, or was that just a happy accident?” she asked, wiping off her hand.

He savior’s hard frown morphed into a smile as he offered her his arm. “I had hoped such services would be unnecessary, but it never hurts to come prepared, especially with my family is involved. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

She allowed him to lead her away from the whispering crowd. If she gathered too much attention, it’d be harder for her to sneak away once the plan was in motion, and until Law finished his little dance with Hina, she’d rather not risk being confronted by more creeps who couldn’t take a hint.

Her natural suspicion only briefly entertained the thought that her hero could turn out to be just as bad. Whether it was his protective aura or his mustache, he reminded her of Genzo, and that would always earn a man the benefit of the doubt. “I’m fine. I suppose I should have been clearer that I wasn’t interested.”

“From what I overheard, you made yourself plenty clear,” he huffed. “That boy’s never learned a speck of respect. My sister spoils him, and he takes entirely too much after my brother.”

“Eh, men like him are hardly rare. I appreciate you scaring him off, though.”

“Happy to be of assistance. I hope you don’t mind if I linger a bit? I’d rather avoid the inevitable argument Beatrix and I will have for a little while longer, and I think I should have a talk with your boyfriend about leaving his lady undefended.”

“Oh, no need for that,” she growled, clenching her fist as a murderous flame crackled in her eyes. “I’m happy to do it myself.”

Surprised, the knight let out a full-bellied laugh. “I’m starting to think my rescue was unneeded; you seem plenty capable of handling yourself!”

“Damn right I can!” she snarled before remembering herself. Swiftly plastering on an innocent smile, she amended, “I mean, I wish I could, but a delicate thing like me wouldn’t stand a chance without a big, strong man looking after her.”

Laugh simmering down to a chuckle, he waved off her excuse. “Relax; a lady with spirit is a great thing. You remind me of my granddaughter, actually!” With a deep, proper bow, he introduced himself. “Harpin Reginald, at your service.”

“Harpin?” she asked, suddenly nervous. “Are you related to our host?” If he was, she was in so much trouble. Puzzle pieces began to connect in her head, and the picture they were forming was not pretty.

His massive mustache waggled side-to-side in distaste. “Alas, he’s my elder brother. I don’t particularly like either of my siblings, but our mother asked us on her deathbed to try to get along, so he’s bound to invite me, and I’m obligated to attend. The rest of the time, I put as much of the Grand Line between the three of us as possible.”

“So, was that the Baron’s son?”

“No, my sister’s, though Gerald was the one to teach him such wonderful manners.” He glared disdainfully across the room to where their host was casually groping one of the maids. “I swear, he threw a masked ball simply because he knows how much I detest these things.”

“What, you don’t enjoy the opportunity to dress up as a white knight?” she managed to tease. Her heart was still quaking at the revelation that she’d inadvertently pissed off a former Navy Intelligence officer’s nephew—when she found Law, she’d have to warn him that she’d earned some problematic attention.

After she kicked his ass for abandoning her, of course.

Whether her was ignoring her nervousness or simply failed to pick up on it, Reginald chuckled at her comment. “Well, that I don’t mind, but you’ve seen how outrageous these people get when they have anonymity—Kujakumaru is a perfect example. I doubt you’re the first woman he’s tried to coerce tonight.”

“You have a point, but I’m starting to think every high-class party is a masquerade in its own way.”

A grey eyebrow raised inquisitively. “How so?”

She shrugged, adjusting her cat mask so it rested more securely on her face. “Everyone’s still putting on a disguise; pretending to be more important than they really are, acting like they don’t despise each other with fake smiles and forced politeness, putting up with some creep’s innuendos because if they slap him like they really want to, the illusion’s broken and everyone will hate them for it.”

Reginald rubbed his chin, but a small, approving smile curled his lips. “You sound like you don’t enjoy these kinds of affairs.”

“Honestly, I always thought I would, but I guess I’m a simple girl at heart. I like expensive things, but this,” she pointed at the ballroom, “is disgusting. How much of the buffet is going to go straight in the trash? My friend’s a cook, and he’d have an aneurism over so much food waste.”

“I agree. I wish Gerald would at least send the leftovers to the town; every year, I swear those people look worse and worse. I tell you, I’d much rather be at one of the shindigs my wife’s family throws. Everyone comes for miles to sing and dance and share food, and it doesn’t matter what your status is; you’re welcomed with open arms.”

Nami smiled wistfully. “Yeah. I wish I was back with my friends—Brook’s music is way better than some stuffy orchestra, and Franky would show off some bizarre new move or hairstyle, and Lu—” she caught herself, realizing that she was getting too close to outing her identity as a Straw Hat, “—cy would make up ridiculous games and do stupid impressions, and we’d drink and laugh until dawn.”

“That sounds a hundred times more fun than any affair my siblings have thrown. Perhaps next year I’ll claim to have a prior engagement and seek out your friends’ party,” he joked.

She grinned, elbowing him playfully. “If you can find us, you’re welcome anytime. Heck, you can even say we kidnapped you if you need a better excuse. Consider it my thanks for the daring rescue.”

The playful glint faded from his black eyes. “Speaking of excuses, you’ll probably want to come up with one to leave—even if Kujakumaru doesn’t go crying to his mother, by midnight, this place will be nothing short of an orgy.”

She nearly choked on her own spit. From his dry tone, she doubted he was exaggerating. “Good thing my boyfriend and I already planned to be out by then.”

“See that you do. Why the Navy ever employed a hedonist like my brother, I’ll never know, much less as head of Intelligence.”

From what she’d seen that night, she couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. “Well, you don’t get rich enough to own your own island by not having connections; maybe the Navy felt they were useful enough to excuse his…lifestyle.”

With a huff, he nodded. “Probably, though I also have no doubt that’s why he was eventually convinced to ‘retire.’ He never would have left on his own volition; they would have had to pry it from his sticky, greedy grasp. Gerald’s always hated giving anything up, even if he doesn’t really want it.”

Nami wanted to pry further—this was a goldmine of intel on the man she was about to rob—but she was distracted by a certain man in a raven mask approaching.

Rage once more bubbling up like a geyser, she whirled on Law. “Oh, have you finished dancing already?” she asked sarcastically. “Good thing I didn’t need your help fending off some creep!”

Behind the mask, she could see an array of expressions cross his face; surprise, annoyance, guilt, anger, before finally settling on mildly apologetic. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out to gently run his fingers across her cheek. When she jerked back, glaring harshly, he sighed, “I saw another lady in need of rescuing and got distracted.”

“Yeah, sure, because Black Cage Hina would ever need to be rescued,” she scoffed.

“Actually,” Reginald said from beside her, “if it’s from my brother, then yes, she would. He’s always had a…thing for her, ever since she was a recruit.”

Law nodded, though he did give the older man a suspicious glance. “I was simply helping her avoid the Baron. But I truly am sorry,” he murmured, hooking Nami’s fingers with his own and carefully drawing her to his side, brushing a kiss across the corner of her mask. “I should have made sure you weren’t in harm’s way, first; you’re always my top priority, and I promise not to leave you alone again.”

Nami really wanted to stay mad at him, but for the sake of both their cover and the job, Bellemere had to forgive her boyfriend’s chivalrous stupidity. The Cat Thief didn’t, though, and she vowed to give him an earful once they were alone. So, she forced herself to wrap her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze as she grumbled into his vest, “Apology accepted, but only because I was lucky enough to have a knight in shining armor to rescue me.”

“I guess so. Care to introduce me?”

Gratefully pulling away from Law’s heated body, she turned to her new friend. “Adrian, this is Harpin Reginald. Reginald, this is Dr. Goodheart Adrian.”

“Goodheart?” the old gentleman asked, eyes lighting up in recognition. “From Serenity Hospital?”

“Yes?” the surgeon replied, immediately on guard. He’d made the connection to their host even more quickly than she had, and the fact that her new friend could identify him didn’t bode well.

“You were the one who reattached my granddaughter’s leg!”

Law blinked in surprise. “Melody-ya was your granddaughter?”

Nami’s eyes widened at both the connection and the way the surgeon’s accent slipped. Even when it was just the two of them, he hadn’t added -ya to anyone’s name since they’d arrived.

Grasping Law’s hand in both of his own, Reginald shook it enthusiastically, tears of joy practically streaming down his face. “Indeed! I honestly can’t thank you enough!” He turned to Nami, smile shining brighter than his armor. “You have no idea how much I owe this man. Melody was involved in a terrible accident that tore off her right leg. The doctors were able to stabilize her, but they said she’d need a prosthetic replacement, and possibly never be able to walk again. But Dr. Goodheart was able to reattach her leg so perfectly, there wasn’t even a scar when they removed her stitches! It was practically a miracle!”

If you count the powers of a Devil Fruit as a “miracle,” she thought wryly, though she found it hard to stay cynical. As unlikely as it seemed that Law would meet the grandfather of one of his former patients here, she’d learned that fate had a funny way of bringing people together. She’d never expected to meet Brook, Laboon’s long-missing friend, on Thriller Bark, and yet he was now a member of her crew, sailing with them to the end of the Grand Line to fulfill his promise.

“I simply did what I could to the best of my ability with the tools I had at my disposal,” Law insisted, though his lips did lift in a slight smile. It was strange to see him acting humble, and somehow, it felt authentic. “How has she been? Any problems with the leg?”

“She’s well on her way to becoming a marathon runner, I can tell you,” Reginald said proudly. “Quick as the wind and eager to see the world! And it’s all thanks to you!”

“Any surgeon would have done the same in my position. I’m just glad she’s made such an excellent recovery; it’s the greatest reward any doctor could ask for.”

Reginald looked like he wanted to sing “Dr. Goodheart’s” praises further, but there was a sudden screech of “WHERE’S THAT WORTHLESS LITTLE BROTHER OF MINE” from the other side of the room, and the knight went rigid.

“Ah, it seems I can’t delay my argument with Beatrix any longer. Keep your heads down while I try to lead her off. Better yet, hide until some other drama occurs—maybe then you could sneak out more easily.”

Law frowned while Nami gave an appreciative smile. She was more than happy to run rather than get pulled into some family spat. “Thanks again for your help, Reginald. Best of luck with your sister.”

Pulling her partner deep into the crowd, the thief refused to stop until they were safe at the far end of the ballroom, the sound of the orchestra covering up their conversation.

“So, exactly what kind of trouble did you get yourself into while I was gone?” Law asked.

“Long story short—the Baron’s nephew propositioned me and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, so Reginald put him in his place.”

Anger flashed in the Dark Doctor’s gaze before simmering down to annoyance. “Of all the people you had to piss off…”

“Well excuse me for being a loyal girlfriend,” she snapped. “Unlike you! Why were you really dancing with Hina?” she whispered harshly, poking his chest.

He raised a black eyebrow, and Nami blushed as she realized just how jealous she sounded. “You’re the one who thinks acts of kindness are a weakness,” she insisted, “so there’s no way you helped her out for chivalry’s sake. If it affects the plan, I deserve to know!”

“White Chase had to take a piss, and I noticed our beloved host making a bee-line for her. In the interest of the night not suddenly going to hell ahead of schedule, I figured I’d offer her a temporary escape. Entertaining as it would be, my plan doesn’t factor in the Baron getting murdered this early in the evening.”

“What if she had recognized you?”

“Worried about me, sweetheart?” he teased, stroking a gloved finger down the smooth side of her mask. “I’m sure you’d be able to make an easy getaway in the confusion.”

“If anything happened to you, your crew would be heartbroken and I’d be roped into breaking your ass out of Impel Down,” she argued half-heartedly. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not some powerhouse with more luck than brains like Luffy. You shouldn’t have taken such a risk!”

“Then I promise not to dance with another woman for the rest of the night,” he replied, pulling her close, hands resting gently on the small of her back, rubbing those distracting little circles along her spine. Leaning down, he whispered, “Seriously, I was doing it for our sake; Black Cage apparently has a rather unpleasant history with Harpin, so I dropped a few hints that she and White Chase should call it an early night. Things will go much easier with them out of the way.”

It was funny; despite the knowledge that Law was a sadistic, dangerous pirate and potentially one of Luffy’s greatest rivals to become Pirate King, being in his arms was beginning to feel…not comfortable, but almost normal. If anything, she should be more eager to escape his clutches than any of the handsy men she’d endured that night; at least they were weak enough to clobber if they got her alone. But she didn’t feel gross when Law touched her.

It dawned on her that, despite playing the role of her lover, his touches throughout the night had been relatively innocent. His hand went nowhere more inappropriate than her waist. His eyes stayed locked on her own instead of falling to the plunging neckline of her dress. Even though he’d kissed her several times, for the most part it had been to her wig or mask.

Deep down, she’d expected him to take advantage of their situation; to grope and kiss and tease her, using their cover as a couple as an excuse, secure in the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Why the hell did Nami feel so disappointed that he didn’t?

Shaking herself free of such confusing thoughts, she replied, “How much longer until phase two?”

Taking a glance at his pocket watch, he said, “It’s currently 9:40pm. Shachi’s team will act at 10:25pm, Ikkaku’s at 10:31pm, and Penguin’s at 10:37pm. Be ready to move no later than 10:15pm.”

“So we’ll just waltz into Harpin’s study?” She’d been sure to memorize the mansion’s blueprints, so she knew it was three floors above the ballroom. No matter what route they took, getting there would take time, and Law seemed fairly against using his powers unless strictly necessary.

“When we leave the ballroom, head towards the foyer but take the first right; about fifteen feet down that hallway, behind the red drapes between the painting of Dionysus and the statue of Venus is a hidden door the servants use. Those passageways lead all throughout the house, so we should be able to get around more easily. I’m sure there are guards or at least servants positioned to deter guests from wandering into certain parts of the mansion, but once our little distractions hit, it’s unlikely to be a problem.”

Even with his reassurance, Nami couldn’t help but be nervous. So many things could go horribly wrong, and even if Smoker and Hina left, she doubted they’d ignore the “distractions” Law had in mind.

Either he could see the tension in her shoulders or feel it in her spine, because he immediately set to taking her mind off such concerns. “We still have over a half-hour; I bet you can’t steal ten more wallets before showtime.”

Eyes flashing with greed and pride, she replied, “What’s the prize?”

“Me and the crew always have a party to celebrate a successful job, but I also take the time to treat myself to a nice dinner as a personal reward. Since you’ve been so instrumental to my plan, I was thinking about inviting you along.”

Immediately, she knew what he was proposing. “Loser pays for dinner?”

“Damn right.”

“You’re on.”

To the Dark Doctor’s surprise, she didn’t run off to find a new dance partner; instead, they milled about, wandering past small groups of guests, Nami occasionally stopping to apologize for bumping into someone or to compliment a particularly elaborate costume. By the time they reached the other side of the ballroom ten minutes later, she pulled him towards one of the stained-glass windows, turning them away from the party under the pretense of studying the elaborate scene of a satyr ravishing a forest nymph.

Reaching into the slit of her dress, the Cat Thief pulled out her haul, fanning herself haughtily with the wallets. “Seven down; three to go.”

Impressed at how quickly and subtly she worked, he smirked, patting his pocket to be sure she hadn’t added his to the collection. “Saying this now; my wallet doesn’t count.”

She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Fine, but only because I already know how easily I could take it.”

“Careful, Nami-ya, or you’re going to find out how easily I can take everything you’ve stolen tonight.”

A strange, pleasant shiver ran up her spine as his dark baritone caressed each syllable of her name. Had he always said it like that? Or was she just noticing now because he’d been calling her “Bellemere” and “sweetheart” all night?

None of that mattered at the moment, as a shrill, angry shriek from behind them quickly soured the mood.

“You! You’re the wretch who insulted my precious Kujakumaru!”

Nami barely had time to slip the wallets back into her gown before five long, sharp, acrylic nails buried themselves into her clavicle. She let out a yelp of pain as she was aggressively spun around, coming face-to-throat with a tall, thin woman with a severe frown, red cheeks, and the same black, watery eyes as the Baron. She was dressed in a chartreuse silk gown, her hair done up in a tight updo, and she clutched a domino mask adorned with yellow and green sequins. But Nami barely noticed that, as her eye was immediately drawn to her necklace; three rows of small, exquisitely cut white diamonds hung around her neck like a collar, framing a heart-shaped yellow diamond the size of a peach stone.

The sharp sting of yellow-painted talons scratching the skin of her collarbone brought the thief’s attention back up to the woman’s face. “I’m sorry; I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Nami ground out through the pain.

“That’s because trash like you doesn’t even belong in my presence! You should be honored my perfect son even glanced your way you harlot!” Looking the younger woman up and down, she scoffed. “I mean, look at the way you’re dressed. Kujakumaru, did you ask this girl to dance out of pity? Such cheap, ugly jewelry for a cheap, ugly girl!”

“Yes mother,” the man in the peacock mask sneered, pushing his way to the front of the crowd, a look of righteous glee in his eyes. “It was an act of charity, and when I refused her advances, she made uncle Reggie beat me!”

Furious at both the insult and the blatant lies, Nami struggled to pull away, but that only made the claws sink in deeper. “Your son’s the one who came onto me,” she snapped, “and maybe if you’d bothered to teach him to respect women, he wouldn’t get so butthurt over a girl rejecting him.”

“How dare you?!”

The woman looked as if she might continue to berate her, but she shrieked in surprise as Law wrenched her hand from Nami’s shoulder, his large fist clenched around her scrawny wrist so tightly she could hear the leather creak. Or maybe it was the bones.

“Lady Beatrix, I presume?” the Surgeon of Death asked, voice cold as chipped ice as he glared with murderous intent. “Regardless of however your son was insulted, I’d appreciate it if you kept your damn hands off my woman.”

As the Baron’s sister trembled under Law’s scrutiny, Nami inspected her shoulder, dismayed to find that the psychotic bitch had drawn blood. No wonder he’d stepped in; regardless of whether or not the Cat Thief could handle herself, he’d paid for her dress, and it already stood to get ruined. Bloodstains were not easy to get out of gold satin, after all.

“U-unhand me, you brute!” Beatrix screeched, writhing about like an eel. “My brother—”

“—would only care if I got your blood on his million-belli carpet. If he actually did give a shit about you or your worthless son, he’d be confronting me himself.” With predatory intent, Law’s eyes swept over the small crowd that had gathered, landing squarely on the man in the peacock mask. “Speaking of, I’m not exactly pleased that he propositioned my lover. She did tell you she was already spoken for, right?”

Smug triumph melted off his face like candle wax, and Kujakumaru looked ready to piss himself. “Sh-she said you had an arrangement! That you didn’t mind her having as many partners as she wanted!”

“Dance partners!” Nami insisted, frowning at Law’s raised eyebrow. “I specifically said ‘dance partners;’ he’s the idiot who took it the wrong way!”

Nodding in understanding, he turned back to the trembling man. “Even if I was the type to share, a lady has every right to refuse a man’s advances. Either you don’t know how to handle rejection, or you’re so pathetic that you couldn’t even pay a woman to sleep with you. I’d put my money on the latter.”

Nami shrieked as Beatrix’s claw-like free hand lashed out at him, but Law managed to catch it mere inches from his face, his cane dropping to the floor with a dull thud. The look in his eye turned sadistically amused at the attempted assault, and Nami had the feeling that if she didn’t put an end to this now, their cover would be blown as the Surgeon of Death decided to find out if the mother and son really did have blue blood.

Grabbing his arm, she yanked as hard as she could, forcing him to release Beatrix’s left wrist. “Darling, that’s enough!” she insisted. “It’s not worth it!”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied calmly, thought the dark aura failed to dissipate.

More people were gathering to watch, and Nami knew she needed to do something drastic before they managed to catch the Baron’s, or even Smoker and Hina’s, attention. Grabbing his chin, she yanked his face down to her level, cutting off his protests with a desperate kiss.

Law’s lips were softer than she’d expected. Life on the sea was rough, the salty air and burning sun resulting in chapped lips for almost everyone, but perhaps he was one of the few men smart enough to use lip balm. On top of that, they were dry and warm, the smooth skin pliant beneath her own. The man himself didn’t move for a moment, completely caught off-guard by her actions, but after a few agonizing seconds, he tilted his head to better slant his mouth over hers.

It was clear her plan worked when she felt both his hands cup her shoulders, and the harsh click of Beatrix’s heels as she scurried away, not wasting the opportunity to put some distance between herself and the man who dared threaten her.

Part of Nami was tempted to drag the kiss out, especially when she felt Law’s blunt teeth nibble at her bottom lip, requesting entrance. Heat pooled in her belly as his tongue swept over the seam of her mouth, but the sound of the clock striking ten doused it in ice water as she remembered they didn’t have time to waste.

Drawing on every shred of acting ability in her repertoire, she forced tears to well up in her eyes as she shoved him away. “I thought you were different, Adrian!” she sobbed. “You know how much I hate violence!”

“Wha—”

“I can’t believe you’d even consider harming someone, especially a defenseless old woman! I—I never should have come out tonight. I wish we had just stayed home!”

Tears streaming out of her eyes, she gathered up her skirts and sprinted away, weaving through the crowds, effortlessly dodging the concerned hands that reached out for her. Behind her, she heard another shriek, followed by exclamations of “Fire! Put that curtain out you fools!” and in the chaos, she managed to escape into the hall, guests and servants alike paying her no mind in favor of the ruckus that broke out. Nami chanced a glance over her shoulder, bright eyes widening as she saw not one, but at least four fires of varying sizes had sprung up throughout the ballroom, candelabras apparently having been knocked over by the panicked guests.

Not one to look the gift horse in the mouth, she dashed into to the hallway Law had spoken of, eyes quickly locking onto the curtain hiding the servant’s entrance. Hopefully, she’d be able to hide in there and wait for her companion. Not that she was particularly looking forward to being alone with him now; god, what had she been thinking, pulling him into a kiss? A slap would have been better, or maybe a swift kick to the shin!

Hand trembling with fear and adrenaline, she grabbed the corner of the drape, only to be halted by an arm coming out of nowhere to wrap tightly around her waist. Another hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her startled scream.

“You didn’t think you’d escape me that easily, did you?” came a dark voice at her ear.

[isolctions]

▌real name: ai’rina rue castillo. but no one calls her ai’rina anymore except for her mother. ▌single or taken: single. ready to poly-amingle. ▌abilities or powers: precognition — her abilities weren’t fully clear to her until the age of puberty, but as time went on and she spent more time with it, rue is able to see years into the future. she is able to receive vision of what’s to come and slowly starting to see things that has already happened, but in a different location. these visions can be received through smell, hearing, sight, or touch. she is also psychic, and performs tarot readings and will sometimes aid in using crystals. ▌eye color: dark brown, but will sometimes change to hazel with a grey halo around the iris while doing readings or receiving visions. ▌hair color: dark brown, close to black. ▌family members: ask rue, she’d say she doesn’t have any. but all she’s known is her mother, a roadside psychic and housemaid, and her siblings — five brothers, four sisters, mostly from her mother’s side. some are half siblings. probably has more on her immediate father’s side, but wasn’t raised long around a father figure. ▌pets: none, she tours and travels too much to keep a pet. ▌something they don’t like: she doesn’t like things that remind her of what her life once was. she doesn’t like people who won’t accept her for who she is. she doesn’t like paparazzi or most journalists, and she doesn’t like competition — don’t mistake that as a negative trait when it comes to rue being in a polyamorous situation. she likes consent. not to be in a relationship with someone who is sleeping with people she doesn’t know about. ▌hobbies/activities: singing & writing music. she also enjoys being around plants, loves to travel anywhere that isn’t orlando, florida, and likes to have deep conversations. she prefers the nightlife, and is drawn to party and activity and dancing. enjoys music of all genres, mostly jazz and soul and classical. ▌ever hurt anyone before: she tries not to hurt people intentionally on her own accord, but it happens. ▌ever killed anyone before: no. but she can. ▌animal that represents them: a phoenix — beautiful, majestic, prophetic. and will burn and recreate themselves when their job is done, and rue is a fan of burning things in the name of renewal. ▌worst habits: she’s very vague in almost everything she does when music isn’t involved. like, you never know where she’ll be and what she’s doing, and often ghosts people due to habits and lifestyle. she’s also very prone to lying — it’s something she got good at after years of having to duck and dodge cleaning houses and exposing her abilities for cheap profit with her mother, but it’s still an unfortunate skill nonetheless. other than that, she’s very lazy. which isn’t so detrimental, but she’s not going to be very committed to readings if she doesn’t see you as someone she cares about. and honestly, good luck getting that far. (she also recklessly doesn’t care about her health when doing touch-based visions/readings and will literally just pass the fuck out with a bloody nose after a particularly heavy sight.) ▌role models: herself. she went from cleaning houses on gated hills to living in one. she went from being under her mother’s overly religious and superstitious thumb to branching out on her own and doing what’s best for her. so, yay. ▌sexual orientation: pansexual & polyamorous. ▌thoughts on marriage/kids: she truthfully doesn’t see herself having kids, but not because she doesn’t like them. just doesn’t see it fitting into her lifestyle or her plans until much later, and even then, it’s still unlikely. as for marriage...sis...solid maybe. she likes intimacy and all, but she also prefers being alone. ▌fears: turning into her mother. ever having to live her old life, that one day she’ll wake up and everything she’s worked for was all just a dream. also, people who she cares about dying. ▌style preferences: wears dresses more often than not, with formfitting material or sometimes silks & satins. loves furs, but is also environmentally conscious and won’t wear anything that comes from animals, including leathers. prefers to be naked more than anything else, but will do with lingerie or a gown here and there — anything that makes her feel cozy and sexy. also prefers crushed velvet, and rarely will you catch her in anything plain like a sweatsuit or jeans or something. despite her clothes having a very high class style, her make up and hair is often natural or very rarely over the top. she’s modestly sexy. ▌someone they love: nobody. but not in a vain sense...she just doesn’t have someone to live. ▌approach to friendships: making friends is a hard task when spending majority of the time keeping things from them. but aside from the travelling and the studio sessions and the awards shows and the tours, rue’s very easy to approach. she’s down to earth and often tries to relate to others, and while she can be uptight at times, around the right kind of person she’s more relaxed. she likes to spoil her friends — rue won’t go overboard when living in a lap of luxury, but she will take them out often on platonic dates, vacations with friends, will take them with her to shows or events she’s made to attend, and tries to show her appreciation in all the little ways that she can to make up for her absence. ▌thoughts on pie: doesn’t care for it. ▌favorite drink: water. lattes. homemade juices. matcha green tea. wine. ▌favorite place to spend time at: a recording studio, or the balcony of her condo. she can’t pick an exact favorite because again, she’s always travelling and spending time in exotic places, but anywhere that’s warm is for her. when in her element, she goes to her ‘special place’ — a room filled with plants and crystals and healing energies where she performs most of her readings. ▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: ocean. ▌their type: she likes people with sexual appeal, people who are honest with themselves and don’t hold back. she actually isn’t all that attracted to people with fame or some kind of high status, because it doesn’t feel like home to her. she wants someone she can be vulnerable with, and will be vulnerable with her in return. honesty. she enjoys people who challenge her intellectually, people who make her think and change her perspective, someone who makes her look at the world differently. and she refuses to be with anyone who will restrict her either creatively or physically, and desires to have some kind of freedom whether in a relationship or a fling.

tagged by: @armsdealing​ tagging: steal + tag.

[readingwebcomics]

Analyzing Questionable Content: Pages 51-100

No Faye, it only looks that way because he’s playing Final Fantasy X-2. Good God, I just realized that Final Fantasy X-2 is someone’s first experience with Final Fantasy. That’s a depressing thought. Although someone starting out the series with Final Fantasy XIII is probably way worse, now that I think about it. At least X-2 had fun.

…huh? Oh right, the comic. You sure you’d rather not listen to me write an essay on Final Fantasy, instead? I have this great point about how Final Fantasy IX has the most emotionally impactful narrative but as a game it only really clicks with long-time players of… no? Okay fine, let’s get back into QC.

The very next comic has Marten getting a tax return check for $1,100, and being the wise adult that he is, decides to spend that money on a new guitar. Tagging along, Faye brings up something that gives us new insight on her character:

And clearly didn’t bore her, considering how much of that information she retained. Here we have yet another example of a shared interest between these two, Marten clearly being into Guitars if he’s invested enough to blow a fat wad of money on it and Faye carrying around quite a bit of information on the instrument herself. I’ve made the point in the last post, but to reiterate – at this point in the comic, it’s clear these two are clicking as far as interests go. They can keep up with each other, can and have provided support for one another, and challenge one another… okay granted that last one isn’t entirely true, it’s clear Faye challenges Marten more than vice-versa, but still. There is a clear, acting relationship dynamic between these two, whether platonic or romantic. The reason why early QC works as well as it does is because these two have clear characters to them and their relationship FEELS real – they feel like people you’d know who’d really be friends – or maybe more than friends. This is Jeph’s character writing at… well I hesitate to call it at its best because to imply he peaked as early as the 53rd comic would be an insult to him as a writer, and I’m not looking to do that here.

I’m looking to do that a little bit later on in this part when we discuss Faye’s “character quirk.”

Before that however, we’re going to get a little bit on insight on Marten:

The story is elaborated on in a future comic, but here we get Marten’s backstory – traveling across the country for a girl, the relationship falling apart and leaving him stuck in this part of the country. This will go on to explain several of his character choices, including Pintsize (although that’s something we’re not going to approach until MUCH later on). It also further elaborates on Marten’s character as a whole: He doesn’t make many active actions as a whole, but when he does, it tends to shift the entire dynamic of how he lives. He decided he wanted to follow this woman across the country, and that action ended up completely upending his life. Could this be part of the reason why Marten is so passive? Does he skew towards this lifestyle because he’s been “trained” to take any kind of affirmative action as an intense, life-changing event?

While I’m not certain myself, and I have a damn good feeling Jeph wasn’t thinking that far ahead when writing Marten’s character, it’s an angle I’m willing to continue exploring as we further our journey down this comic’s history.

This comic was written in 2003. I’m half-tempted to believe Meme culture can be tracked by indie bands now. Wonder if there was any zeitgeist with neo-nazi indie bands ten or fifteen years ago then, if that theory holds true?

…I just made myself really, really sad.

Later on, Pintsize proceeds to eat a cake when he really shouldn’t – again – and we are gifted with… this lovely image.

Okay. I understand Pintsize is an AI, so it makes total sense for him to be able to be uploaded to a PC like this (ignoring for the moment modern commercial hardware can’t possibly support the resources necessary to maintain human-level sapience and ESPECIALLY not in 2003), but this is one of the freakiest fucking things I’ve seen from this comic. Mostly because at the time of writing we’re on comic 4000 and AI as a whole take an entirely different turn in the world of QC around that time, so… this is just kinda surreal to look at.

…We’ll get to AI in regards to QC’s universe later on when it becomes more relevant. Needless to say, it becomes one of the core “themes” of the comic as a whole.

The narrative reason for this turn of events is simple:

Pintsize is now in a new visually appealing model, capable of moving his joints around so he can do more than just stand around and talk!

…also one that has a horrifying government-level laser built into it! Believe it or not, this DOES become a relevant plot-point later and it’s not just for the sake of a gag. This is a great example of Jeph taking a tiny detail he may have originally written in as a joke and building off it to create conflict… although I’ll be getting more into that later on when it actually DOES become relevant.

Pintsize agrees to turn the laser off, and a few comics later Marten and Steve go to the bar to discuss their lives – specifically Marten’s love life.

Further showcasing of Marten’s passive nature and his straight-up lack of confidence.

Say goodbye to Sara everyone – for real this time, I’m fairly certain this is the very last time we ever see her. I could be mistaken, but I highly doubt it. Plus, while we don’t see it in detail we get enough information to gleam Steve as Marten’s exact opposite – charming without being overwhelming, confident without being cocky. Steve is just straight-up a cool dude, and it’s easy to see how he can easily get into relationships while Marten stays there floating along, too scared and/or passive to make the move that comes to Steve naturally.

Wait. Shit, I may have the hots for Steve. Abort, aboRT, ABOR-

I’m showing this in part to showcase the next point of conflict and also to draw attention to the new style Jeph is trying. He’ll do this throughout the run of QC, trying out brand-new styles to see what fits and what doesn’t. I’ll be including this in my comparison pictures at the very end of this post to give a clearer image of what changes and how he improves… although you can see even in this comic he’s struggling against old habits as Marten’s face in the final panel looks drastically different than in the rest, looking more akin to how he looked in older comics. That’s okay! Habits die hard, it’s worth applauding the fact that Jeph is trying. God knows I can’t draw to save my fucking life, so I’ll always support artists trying new things.

I’m mostly including this panel for two reasons: The fact that Faye’s stuck in the closet right now – if you don’t get why that’s funny, you will in about 3700 comics from now – and the way she’s talking. Do you notice something different about the “feel” of Faye’s dialogue? Keep an eye on it, I’ll try to include more panels of her talking from this point onward.

Anyway, Marten dismantles the previously established conflict by revealing he managed to get Faye’s prescription for her and got her a new pair of glasses.

Mark this as the second time Faye has actually displayed real physical aggression against Marten.

Again, depending on how much you know about AI in QC’s world from future comics this could either be a lot funnier or a hell of a lot less funny. Although… the subject of AI mortality would make for an EXTREMELY interesting plot point in more recent comics. Remind me to touch on that when we get further along.

Again: Pay attention to Faye’s dialogue in this comic, especially in that last panel. You’re noticing it, aren’t you? The fact that she sounds a little… different? Give me a little more time, I promise I’ll touch on it a little later.

Hey, guess what? It’s later!

Faye does not punch Marten whenever she says something nice about him. In fact, she has ever only assaulted Marten twice – both times for completely arbitrary reasons not related to her saying anything to or about Marten. Nor has Faye ever spoken completely without contractions, as you see she’s doing now. Later comics will go on to point out how odd it is that Faye only speaks with contractions when she’s drunk and dips into her southern accent… when we’ve seen in previous comics that she is capable of speaking with contractions and talking like a normal human being. This change has shifted the entire “feel” of every line of Faye’s dialogue, as she no longer “sounds” like the Faye we started the comic with.

These are both examples of a writing mistake that a lot of long-form regular updating writers make, be it fanfiction or daily comics – retcons. If you’re reading this, you most likely know what a retcon is. For the few of you that don’t, a retcon – short for retroactive continuity – is the practice of in later works of an ongoing series introducing a fact that changes what was previously established in previous works. This is most commonly seen in Superhero comics from Marvel and DC, but the kind of retcon I’m talking about is more common on smaller scale works, like fanfiction or unedited novels or ongoing RPs.

See, when the writer realizes they wanted to change up something, introduce a plot element that would require them to go back and change something previously to make it make sense and find that for whatever reason they can’t, they may go ahead and introduce the plot element anyway while assuring the reader that no, of course this element was always included. That’s what’s happening here – Jeph had an idea for a plot element he wants to include, realized he can’t exactly go back to older comics and change them considering it’s a regularly updated webcomic, and so decided to retcon these facts by introducing them like they’ve always been a part of things and assert their truth while continuing on.

Not that I can necessarily blame the man – in a situation like this, realizing there’s an important plot element that you want to work with but can’t due to you leaving it no room in what you’ve previously published, there’s not much else you can do besides either retconning things or accepting you can’t introduce that plot element and just move on. However, there are other ways you can work with this that abide by previously established continuity and lets you introduce a plot element you want to introduce. For example, Faye punching Marten: You could introduce it as something she feels more comfortable doing the longer she’s around him. Have more frequent comics of her following saying something nice up with a punch, let us see her actually assault him more, and draw a correlation between her getting more comfortable around him and her getting more physically aggressive – something Jeph does touch on later, so it is entirely possible to introduce this new dynamic without asserting things have happened that we clearly see haven’t happened.

…as for Faye not speaking in contractions however, that’s just stupid. It’s a gimmick for her character, plain and simple, without adding anything to her as a character. If you want something big to showcase she’s keeping herself restrained, just continue as you were, having her speak in a southern accent when she’s drunk. That works as a fun gag to attach to her character without seeming like a dumb gimmick. And I’m sorry to say… this whole “Faye doesn’t speak in contractions” thing? It’s a dumb gimmick.

Okay, now that I’ve gotten that all off my chest, let’s introduce ourselves to the new main character of QC…

This is Dora, the owner of the Coffee Shop that Faye works at. She’s a cool cat and (seemingly) supremely chill. She’s introduced as another secondary character like Steve, but will swiftly become a mainstay character and join what will become a growing ensemble cast.

Also, potential conflict is seeded when it’s revealed she’s totally crushing on Marten.

And if you doubt Faye’s assessment, let’s hear it from the woman in question herself.

Also say hello to Dora’s cat. The cat has a name, I just can’t remember it for the life of me considering the little fella joins Sara on that island eventually. But yeah, Dora DEFINITELY has the hots for Marten, sewing another potential seed for conflict later on – Marten and Faye are certainly in the “will they or won’t they?” phase, and here sits Faye’s own boss with a clear, vested interest in Marten. Will she make a move and push Faye to take action? Time will tell.

Jeph enjoys trolling his audience, and Marten is suffering because of it.

Dora goes on to establish herself in the reader’s minds by having a clear, distinct personality that bounces off Faye’s beautifully. They banter so comfortably with one another it makes it so much fun to read, which goes on to make Dora a more appealing character to the reader. The more she talks, the more you want to see her because she’s such a genuinely charismatic individual… which can further serve to establish her as a very real conflict in the potential Marten and Faye relationship. After all, what’s a greater spanner in the works of this “will they or won’t they?” relationship than a character who will gladly say “Yeah, I will” that the audience likes enough that they are completely on-board with seeing go through?

The most dangerous thing to a romcom relationship is a third wheel that a good portion of the audience prefers over the teased relationship, and that creates good drama.

(Also Sara’s name is spelled wrong but eh it’s not like she’s around to complain anyway)

…that said, Dora goes on to assure Faye that she has no intention of swiping Marten off his feet away from her when it’s clear Faye’s interested in him. Then again… the more Faye insists she’s not interested in him, the more likely it may be that Dora believes her.

True story, I found this concept so funny that in a campaign I ran a few years ago, I actually had one of the players – who was supposed to be stuck as a worker in a dreary 9-to-5 job that he’d desperately want to escape to go onto adventure – be labeled as the Office Bitch. My only regret is that I didn’t print out a real business card for his player. That either would have gotten a laugh from the table or gotten me punched.

This here is Scott, Marten’s boss. He’s a cool dude, but for reasons that will become evident later on we don’t see very much of him. At first, I thought he was going to end up being the future husband of Marten’s father – and if you haven’t read through QC yourself that sentence will probably completely catch you flat-footed – but looking it up later I found that Marten marries a man named Maurice, not Scott. I only thought they were the same person because they’re both blonde and the art style changes so much later on anyone could look like anyone else.

Actually, fun fact: I started reading QC when 2512 was the most recent comic, so before she was introduced I thought Faye and Marigold were the same person because of how drastically the art style changed and I only recognized “curvy white girl with glasses and brown hair”.

Anyway, Scott’s pretty chill and… yeah. Yeah, that’s pretty much it. He’s a chill dude to work for, and that’s probably the only reason Marten hasn’t outright quit his job yet. The worst job in the world can be made tolerable with a good boss, and the best job in the world can be made unbearable with an awful boss.

Further evidence of the lack of contractions hurting the way Faye’s voice comes across than anything else. Seriously, is it just me or does this not sound like Faye? Like, at ALL? I’m open to being told I’m wrong, just… seriously.

Aaaand here we have Steve officially having broken up with Sara. Also, it’s a small thing but like I’ve said, I’ll give Jeph credit where it’s due – that visible wince on Marten’s face is the most expressive any of his characters have been thus far. Good work man, I’m happy to see you improving with your art!

After drinking together, Marten and Faye decide to go to an all-night diner for some drunken late-night pancakes when we get this bit of information from Faye:

That is Faye, if you can figure out which of the two Martens your fist will connect with. But yeah, the fact that Faye speaks in a southern drawl while intoxicated went from a joke to actual character – she’s legitimately from Georgia and that’s her natural way of speaking. Which may raise the question to the reader, why does she repress that voice so much? Don’t worry – they touch on it in later comics. For now though, another round of applause to Jeph for slowly and organically creating new information about his characters.

Faye is clearly not telling the whole story – the lack of eye contact being a key indicator of just that. Still, we’re getting a little bit more information on her, and the fact that she kept her wording vague leaves a lot to still explore in her future. Needless to say… it was a LOT more than just her mother being over-protective that led her to moving up north.

Marten’s just kind of accepted his lot in life by this point. Although when I was first reading through these I honestly thought this was going to be the headbutt-into-crotch moment.

Once again, if you haven’t read through QC yourself that sentence made zero sense to you. I’m kind of giggling at the thought of someone reading that and doing a double-take, actually.

Finally, we have the last comic of this batch, setting up a bit of conflict for our next batch…

Wuh-oh! Marten walked in on Faye changing! One really nice detail is that you can see the scar on Faye’s chest right there in the first panel, which means Jeph had a LOT of Faye’s backstory already planned out while he was drawing this stuff. Which just leaves me to wonder… how far back did he have this planned? When Faye first showed up in the third comic? When he had her start speaking in a southern accent while drunk? When he decided to have her stop speaking in contractions? I’d love to ask him, but I know for a fact he wouldn’t give me the time of day. Oh well, either way: He’s got shit planned out, shit that we won’t see until Comic 500 or so, and that’s always good for a long-form comic like this.

Like last time, let’s do some quick comparisons between the first comic of the batch, the comic where Jeph made a clear and active effort to change the art style, and the last comic of the batch:

It looks like Jeph found a happy medium between the style he was originally going for and the newer style he tried to incorporate, keeping the relative size and position of the characters’ facial features while rounding out everyone’s faces, making things much less angular than previously. The bodies are also beginning to get some real texture to them, looking closer to real human bodies than stick figures with a shirt.

Overall, what did I think about this batch of comics? Well aside from my complaints about Faye’s lack of using contractions and the sloppy way Jeph tried to incorporate that into the narrative, I thought it was better than the first batch! Marten and Faye are getting into a comfortable rhythm with each other, and we’re falling in-line with that rhythm ourselves. We just met a new character who’s going to be a mainstay of the series and in the few comics she’s shown up in, she’s made her presence stick with the reader. Even if I didn’t know how important Dora would become, I’d be saying I’m looking forward to seeing more of her.

You know what time it is now? That’s riiiiiight! Data compilation time!

Between comics 51-100, the following characters’ proportional “screen time” as it were are as follows:

Marten: 46/50 – 92%

Faye: 45/50 – 90%

Pintsize: 12/50 – 24%

Dora: 8/50 – 16%

Steve: 6/50 – 12%

Sara: 2/50 – 4%

Scott: 2/50 – 4%

Dora’s Cat: 1/50 – 2%

And the grand total of each character’s screentime, not including non-canon or guest comics, from most to least time shown:

Marten: 91/100 – 91%

Faye: 83/100 – 83%

Pintsize: 27/100 – 27%

Steve: 14/100 – 14%

Dora: 8/100 – 8%

Sara: 7/100 – 7%

Jim: 2/100 – 2%

Scott: 2/100 – 2%

Raven: 1/100 – 1%

Dora’s Cat: 1/100 – 1%

Yes, I’m counting Dora’s cat among the statistics. I’ll change the name when I learn what the critter’s name actually is. Also, I was reminded that when the Secret Bakery becomes a thing later on in the comic there will be another character named Jim, with this particular construction worker being called Jimbo instead. I’ll change the name properly when he’s called “Jimbo” proper in the comic, don’t worry. I’ll be doing my best to keep this list from getting confusing… it’s in as much my best interest as yours seeing as I want to keep track of everyone properly.

Tune in next week when we see the exciting conclusion of this spicy “Marten happening to walk in on Faye undressing” drama! And Dora flashing someone. See you then.

[crow-songs]

What No One Tells you....

…..about losing weight and getting Healthy.

Alright, so one of my rare ranting moments, what you’re not warned about when you start getting healthy or losing weight for your own health.

1. Buying Clothing for yourself, is a pain in the ass!

~If you live on your own, pay your own bills, pay for your own groceries etc…You also know the pain of buying clothing. Now, for me, I get to see both sides of the scale. I get to see my Partner, who happens to be much smaller (weight-wise) than I am, and then you have my big fluffy ass. Where my partner can get a cheap tank if they need, I have to spend almost $20 to get one that actually fits me without riding up the belly or being defeated by the BOOBS of DOOM! Even my partner has commented on how drastic the price differences are for clothing. Now imagine, you are losing weight, no longer do you fit the ‘fat girl’ clothing well without looking like a 50 year old stereotype aged soccer mom, and I am too big to fit into what is considered regular clothing. (And I will be ranting about that later because ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?) So you either have to cough up the big bucks for clothing that you know you’ll not be able to wear in a few months and will be trying to donate to a place that will actually give clothing to people in need, or you end up looking like that 50 year old person who doesn’t care about being 'fashion forward’. Now this second style most would say “But hey, at least you’re comfy!”. Like, yea, that would be awesome! I get to lose weight and be super comfy, yay! But NO! That is not the case. Half the day you’re pulling your pants up afraid that you’re going to moon someone because there are 'no’ pants that fit you right after that first single time! you’re shirts are so baggy that they get caught on doorknobs, tangled in the fat on your arms, or boobs and at worst, get tangled in that said boob when all three things happen all at once when you are carrying all those groceries on the bus because cars are expensive dammit, and suddenly your shirt is pulled down so far that this 'comfy’ piece of clothing is exposing you. But the worst part, is how it makes you feel. I mean, I am trying to get healthy, and finally be comfortable in my skin, not because of media, but because being fat is exhausting thank you. Those loose pieces of clothes that you have to pay an arm and a leg for, make you feel…well…awkward. More so that you already feel. I hate it. I’m trying to lose weight for my health and self esteem (Don’t get me wrong, I am damn fabulous and I know it) but I want to look down and see my damn toes. The price and self image that the clothing brings, does not help.

2. People are MEAN when you’re trying to get healthy!

~Holly crackers are being just mean! I cannot tell you how many times I have been shamed for what I am trying to do! But here’s the kicker, it ain’t the skinny ones being this mean, it’s girls (not many guys care or ask questions about it) that are my size or larger. Now, here’s a story of when I first started losing weight.

(Little background here, I use to be a cashier at a USA Chain store and I was good at my job, this is a conversation between me an a woman who was the same size as me)

————–

Me: “Hi! Thanks for shopping with us did you find everything today?” *Starts scanning her items and bagging*

Customer: “I did thank you.”

Me: “So, how’s your day been today?” (Now for this, I always use my genuine voice because you know what, everyone needs someone to just talk too)

Customer: “It’s ok…..Wait, I’ve seen you here before, you look different.”

Me: *All happy proud that someone other than my epic Partner sees my hard work* “Yeah! I’ve lost about 55lbs in about 3 months! I’ve been trying to get healthier!”

Customer: “Oh that’s good. What diet are you on, or did you…..”*pauses to lean in and whisper*“Did you get that surgery thing. I’ve been thinking about that too so no need to be ashamed.”*insert sly smile*

Me:*Stands there blinking a moment before giving that awkward laugh you give when you just don’t know what to say* “Ah, actually no diet per say, and I am waaay to poor for surgery of any kind. No, I actually cut out dairy finally since I’m actually allergic to it, and cut gluten out of my diet because my partner is highly allergic and I figured why not do so in solidarity. I love my meats so you know not too brutal. And I’ve been doing some basic exercises like walking and little 5lb weights that we sell here. It’s been amazing and I actually feel like I can do things without falling over dead!”

**mind you, I am stilllll scanning the overflowing cart of stuff this woman has and she is not unloading it at all, so I am having to hop lean over my counter to reach her items**

Customer: *Pauses with this surprised look before her lip literally curls and she gives me the most disgusted look ever* You know how unhealthy it is to starve yourself!

Me: *actually goes still to being confused* What?

Customer: I mean you should have better self esteem in how you look and love your body no matter what people tell you! Starving yourself is not the answer! *starts to go on rant about media and about how I’m some dumb child falling for this and how I probably cut and how I’m not 'that’ over weight and make up can fix my face.*

Me:*stares at this now labeled crazy bitch getting annoyed* Ma'am…I’m 23…I am doing this for my health, I can still down a whole chicken by myself if I wanted, but I am trying to portion my food. *Holds out receipt as she swiped her card while ranting loud enough that all cashiers are now staring* Have a good day.

———-

I mean are you kidding me!? I have bee actively shamed more since I have been working to try and get healthy more than once! One woman had the guts to tell me that losing weight is for whores and I was just going to be a target for rape if I did this. I have been called stupid, worthless and informed how ugly I am. WHAT THE SEVEN HELLS IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE!!!????

By the way, that conversation actually took place almost over a year before the gluten free diets started to gain some fame/attention.

3. The Assumption that Working out is dangerous/I don’t know what working out is.

~I cannot count the amount of times I have been lectured and talked down too when I mention that I need to work out more or am trying to work out. People people people…I am not stupid. Yes I know how to lift weights, yes I loooove punching bags, yes I know how to run and yes I know how to swim and do sit ups. The surprise you get from people is insane. What people assume is that you have never been active your entire life, and you eat like a damn pig. No, that isn’t always the reason someone is over weight. When i was a kid, I was active, I played softball, I was into multiple forms of martial arts including MMA (thanks to my dad), running, climbing etc. I was like this till about 13-14 years old. That is when depression, stress, loneliness and lack of support entered my life. That and my genetics and a knee surgery I had when I was 16-17, yeah I got damn fat! But I’m not stupid! My Gods!

4. Depression is the biggest Bitch ever.

~I won’t lie, my biggest demon, is depression. even when losing weight, when you have sooo many telling you how horrible you are for trying to lose weight or for doing it, even that one person (for me my partner) who is supporting you…..sometimes it isn’t enough. You watch your body change, going down and then ballooning back up and then back down and put that on repeat. It’s hard. When you have a 40 hrs + job, the world around you is literally falling apart, knowing that going outside can get you killed and worse, when you look at your bills and you feel like there is no end, when you look at your life and you know, you know this is not what you wanted to do with it, or what you are capable of doing…..damn it gets hard. It’s hard to keep that motivation to be healthy. Real Healthy I mean. For years I convinced myself that 'my’ method was the best, that how I was eating would do my body well. I was never told that fat girls could have an eating disorder. And than I realized what I was doing. I was doing a different kind of binge and purge. I would take 1 week and just massively over eat, to the point that I would vomit on my own without any finger, and then for 2 weeks, I just wouldn’t eat anything. I would drink water or for a while, soda….maybe have a bag of chips….but nothing else. For 2 damn weeks. I never felt faint, dizzy, dazed. I only felt tired, still massively depressed and my weight would bounce that a stupid bouncy ball in a locked room. Later, through my own studying as during the years of going to a doctor (And more than once ulcer later)  I had always been told I was surprisingly healthy and active for my age (I CALL BULLSHIT), I realized the reason I didn’t feel this, was because my body was eating itself and I’ve got/had the stores to eat where these sessions while unhealthy, wouldn’t trigger my brain. People assume that working out, getting healthy and changing your lifestyle, changes that. But to be honest, YOU CAN BE DOING IT ALL RIGHT AND STILL BE DEPRESSED! I feel the need to shout that from the roof tops sometimes! Even if you have the best support system, sometimes, you still feel very much alone in your situation. And there is no reason you or anyone should be feeling guilty about this.

Alright, there is my rant, I could likely add more, but in this moment, I don’t want too. For any who read, thank you for reading, and know, You CAN do this. What is healthy for one person, doesn’t mean it’s healthy for you (This is coming from the person that is actually allergic to the entire mustard family when it comes to greens) and above all, you’re worth getting healthy, physically and mentally. You can want to lose weight, all while loving yourself.

Here are two links for people going through this in my opinion that might help:

https://www.torrid.com/homepage   ~~A great place for clothing that frequently has some damn good sales and does focus on how it fits your body.

https://www.udemy.com/     ~~This might we odd, but classes help. Whether it’s in art for self therapy or self expression, or nutrition classes. They do have sales (Their current black Friday/Cyber Monday sale of epicness)

Alright everyone, have a wonderful, and a life that you can be proud of.

[studiobeebo]

hhnh sorry this took so long i mentioned an oc gorl i made up a lil while back and i finally have her info put together!! so ye here she is uwu

Basic Information

Name: Misaki Otsuka

  Name Meaning (If applicable): Misaki meaning ‘Beautiful Blossom’

Nickname(s): Buttercup

Alias: Undecided

Age: 16

Birthday: December 8th

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Nationality: American/Japanese

Affiliation: UA General Studies Course

Appearance

Height: 5’0”

Weight: 110 LB

Figure: Misaki has a more pear like figure, being thinner up top with her thighs/hips being a bit thicker.

Skin Tone: Dark with red/gold undertones 

Eye Color: undecidednkjsf

Hair Color: It fades from a deep forest green to a brighter leafy green.

Hair Style: Her hair falls in big soft curls and is actually pretty long, reaching to just above her waist. While she leaves her hair mostly down, her quirk leads to the appearance of having two small buns at the top of her head which are actually two flowers, but she usually just wraps her hair around the base of said flowers.

Facial Features : A lil dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose.

Scars: None.

Piercings/Tattoos: None.

Distinguishing Features: None, other than her quirk.

⇩ ⇩ Appearance Ref Below ⇩ ⇩ (amazing artwork done by @8bitribbit!! check out her commission info here!)

Personality

Misaki is generally calm and collected, but she’s also very bright and cheery! She tries to remain optimistic and she had a solid group of friends, but she’s not extremely overly talkative or loud. Due to her quirk, however, her mood often depends on her surroundings. She works a bit like a flower would itself, so when it’s sunny and she’s well hydrated she may be more energetic and happy, but if she’s dehydrated and it’s dark out she’s more groggy and maybe a bit grumpy or less talkative.

Quirk

Quirk Name: Medicinal Botanokinesis

    Explanation of Quirk: Misaki is able to produce and expel medicinal pollen from two flowers that sprout from either side of her head, often looking like double buns in her hair! The flowers fall off at least once a day and grow back just as quickly as another type flower. With each flower, she can use a different ‘ability’ depending on the components of the flower who’s pollen she expels. For example, if she has lavender flowers growing from her head, the pollen expelled can help make someone feel sleepy. Sunflowers could help reduce menstrual pains, angelica herb can be used to help heal colds and coughs, and so on. Some days, however, the flowers that sprout from her head have really no medicinal usage, so her quirk is rather ineffective during those times. She can expel pollen whenever she wants, but it is possible for her to ‘run out’, so she tries to only use her quirk when it’s needed.

Moodboard

Extra Information

Misaki thinks it’s super embarrassing when flowers that are weeds, such as dandelions, grow from her, so she’ll often be wearing a hat of sorts on those days and have it pulled down as much as she can.

She often harvests flowers she creates that can be used as herbs, such as lavender or chamomile! Most of the time she’ll use them to make her own blends of teas, but sometime she’ll bake with them as well!

She loves taking pictures of friends so sometimes she might ask them to pose, she likes to save happy memories in one of her many scrapbooks!

⇩ ⇩ more in depth info below! ⇩ ⇩

Clothing

Casual Style: Misaki loves ‘simple but cute’ so she’s all about nice jeans with a t shirt or blouse, so not lazy casual but not too dressy either. She also l o v e s overalls and they take over half of her wardrobe and her favorite outfit is her summer short overalls, a cute patterned tee, and a sunhat!

Common Accessories: A necklace with a small buttercup flower pendant. Also when she’s not in school, she almost always has her old fashioned Polaroid camera hanging around her neck!

Characteristics

Temper: She has a pretty average temper, but she is unfortunately an angry crier.

Strengths: She’s good at assessing situations around her and staying calm in frantic environments!

Weaknesses: She’s a bit awkward about sharing more serious feelings that are a bit more negative.

Goals/Drives/Dreams: She wants to become a plant geneticist mostly to be able to understand herself and her own quirk better and how both she and plants themselves can be used to help the world. She also wants to do field work, but that depends on how far she gets on being able to heal with her quirk.

Fears: She fears those around her feeling sad or depressed, so she tries her best to keep a happy attitude herself.

Likes: Gardening, photography, kayaking, hiking, crafty activities

Dislikes: Puzzles, being stuck indoors for too long, cold weather

Skills/Hobbies: Naturally she’s very good at gardening and her photography skills aren’t bad either!

Quirks: She physically looks more ‘wilted’ on cloudy or cold days, becoming more sluggish and having a slouched stature.

Health

Physical Health: She has a weakness for sweets and she doesn’t work out too often sooo she probably could be a bit healthier, but for a teen I’d say she is pretty average.

Mental Health: Mostly good! Like anyone she does suffer from bouts of depression here or there. She also suffers from panic attacks occasionally, but this only happens under extreme stress or anxiety.

    Mental Disabilities: None.

Sleeping Habits: Pretty good actually! Because of her plant like nature she gets sleepy almost immediately after the sun sets, so she’s usually in bed by 9pm at the latest.

Eating Habits: Not great, she has a major sweet tooth, she’s just lucky most of her weight goes to the “right” spots.

Inhibiting Injuries: None.

Relationships

Mother

    Name: Imani Otsuka

    Quirk: She has a small water spout on her head, but it’s hard to see past her hair and doesn’t serve much purpose.

    Relationship Status: Imani almost single handedly raised Misaki so they’re very close, Misaki is like a textbook definition of a mamma’s girl.

Father

    Name: Ren Otsuka (Deceased)

    Quirk: His entire body makeup is like that of a plants, giving his skin a greenish tint and allowing him to ‘eat’ through photosynthesis.

    Relationship Status: When he was still alive, Misaki was very close to him and grew up learning everything she knew about plants and gardening from him. Unfortunately he was taken from her when she was eight years old due to a sickness that couldn’t be cured in the same way as usual due to his genetic make up not being very human.

Friend

   Name: Tsukiko Kojima

   Relationship: They’re very good friends as they both have a similar interests in gardening and their kind personalities fit each other well!

Friend

    Name: Mina Ashido

    Relationship: Even though she hasn’t known her for a while and they aren’t in the same class, Misaki loves Mina’s happy spirit and she often gives her her own energy boost for the day.

Best/Closest Friend(s)

    Name: Tsuyu Asui

    Relationship: They went to the same middle school together and Tsu was the first friend she made after moving away from her old school district so they’re very close!

Love Interest/Crush

    Name: Todoroki maybe?? idek I have no clue tbqh

    Relationship:

Pets: Two chubby dumbo rats named Pancake and Tootsie.

History

Early Childhood (Birth - Age 6): Even though she doesn’t remember it, when she was born things for her parents were a bit difficult because at the time, they had still yet to get married, and while Imani spent a lot of time doing work in Japan, which is where she met Ren, she still lived in the United States. Once they were both stable enough to settle down, however, they quickly got married and Imani moved in with Ren in Japan. They were lucky to have decent jobs and while their lifestyles weren’t lavish, they made enough to live comfortably and Misaki was a happy young girl!

It was when Misaki was six years old that she developed her quirk, two round hydrangea’s simply popping up on her head one morning, however she didn’t learn the full extent of her quirk until she was older.

Mid Childhood (Age 7 - Age 13): Misaki was living a good, simple life, however things changed when she was about seven years old and her father fell ill. With him having to leave his work and Imani having to take care of him, things became a bit more stressful, however they were still as happy as they could be, Imani always teaching Misaki to make the best of even the worst situations.

Unfortunately, because Ren’s physical makeup was different then the average human, modern medicine at the time wasn’t able to help him and before the doctors working with him were able how to accommodate to him, he passed away. For a while after his death, their family was a bit of a mess, both Misaki and her mother hurting greatly. Misaki even had to leave school for a while, both her and her mother dropping into a depressive state, however her mother was a strong woman and soon picked herself up for the sake of her daughter and helped her daughter get along as well. She decided they needed a new start, but instead of moving back to America she simply moved her and her daughter to a new district closer to Tokyo. While Misaki was still upset over the loss of her father, she was quick to make friends at her new school, one of them being Tsuyu Asui. It took about a year, but she eventually got back to her usual calm and happy self, deciding she wanted to celebrate the memories she had of her father rather than dwell on the fact that he was no longer with her.

Teenage Years (Age 14 - Present): Even though she hadn’t gotten an exact lock on what she wanted to do career wise, Misaki had heard all about UA and knew that a diploma from such a school would surely help her in her journey, plus she hoped even if she didn’t enroll in the hero course that she could find help with developing her quirk. All that along with the fact that her best friend also planned on going to the same school and she knew this was the place for her. She didn’t get in with top scores, but to her that just meant she had plenty of room to improve, so she accepted the offer that she had worked hard for and is now on her way to wherever her journey would lead her. 

[deviant-oreo]

FFXIV RP MASTER LIST.

Master list of all my characters. I’ll probably be reblogging this every now and then or a fresh one with updates depending on my characters journery.

Apologies mobile users.

Kherem Kahkol

Character Background

Hailing from the Azim Steppe, born in the bleak, frigid climate of The Tail mountains - Kherem Kahkol is a monster of a warrior. Deeply entrenched in Xaelan traditions and beliefs. He lives by the way of his people and will die by it. Wearing his heart on his sleeve and unafraid of voicing his unfiltered opinions. Kherem often expresses himself through his forge and his love for battle.

General Information

Age: Late 20’s to early 30’s

Birthday: Unknown

Race: Au Ra, Xaela

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Ask him yourself

Personal Information~

Profession: Blacksmith, Warrior, Beast Tamer

Residence: Azim Steppe, The Dusk Forge

Birthplace: The Tail Mountains

Patron Deity: Nhaama, The Dusk Mother

Physical Appearance~

Hair: Dreadlocks, onyx black with blood orange highlights.

Eyes: Fiery crimson irises with orange limbal rings.

Height: 7’5

Build: A stocky, muscular build. Befitting of such a rabid warrior.

Distinguishing Features/Marks:

Abnormal Scale Growth - Kherem’s scales have grown exceptionally more than the average Au Ra. Purely genetics.

Scarring - Kherem’s a seasoned warrior, part and past of it means narrowly escaping death numerous times, his body is lined with numerous scars of battles past.

Back scars - Kherem being the boisterous and headstrong fiery man he is, crossed the wrong opponent to which he was punished with his back being flayed. Although it’s healed, the wounds caused irreversible damage to which his scales don’t grow on them, leaving the scars exposed.

Additional Information~

Cannibal - With the Steppe being so unforgiving and wild, Kherem doesn’t necessarily have a moral compass when it comes to what he eats. If it can be killed and cooked, he sure will eat it, be it man or beast.

RP Hooks~

Gazar Doorkhi - Despite the unforgiving and brutal nature of Kherem, he’s a Xaela born of the Steppe, he cares about his people - and in for that reason he’s more than welcome to opening his home, Gazar Doorkhi to fellow Xaelans of tradition. Though that’s not to say he’ll accept anyone and everyone..Those who do enter, whether knowingly or unknowingly of the man, go in at their own risk.

Murderer, Pillager, Warrior - Kherem is notorious as he is feared in the steppe. Ruthlessly killing as he sees fit for he believes it’s one of the many natural ways of his people. He could have slaughtered a band of people you knew. Maybe you’re simply out for his head because of who he is. We can work something out.

Blacksmith - Bloodlust aside, Kherem has honed himself into quite the blacksmith, forging weapons and shipping them out in exchange for gil and other materials. He’s also opened it up for warriors alike looking for his rising name in the arms trade. The challenge enough to reach his home deep within the Steppes, enough for him to raise his opinion on whether he’d be willing to.

Important things to note:

Kherem is deeply entrenched in his culture, along with it, isn’t very fond of those who aren’t born of the Steppe. Don’t expect him to act kindly to your presence if you’re not.

Expect conflict. Kherem’s a confrontational man, wearing his heart on his sleeve as much as he speaks it; what comes out however, might not be the kindest of words. Worse case, the brutal cleave of his axe.

Zhaji’a Nejaho

Character Background

The ever illusive Zhaji’a Nejaho, a young and chipper keeper who travels the lands of Eorzea in search for work and fortune. Separated from his tribe from a young age, he’s constantly been teetering on the edge of poverty, often getting himself tied up in criminal activities and working with crime syndicates under the moniker of Twiji.

General Information

Age: 19

Birthday: 24th Sun of the 4th Astral Moon

Race: Miqo’te, Keeper of the Moon

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Personal Information~

Profession:

Honest work- Labourer, courier, assistant..etc. He’s always looking for gil.

Dishonest work - Hired assassin, thief, spy, saboteur..etc. Again, he’s always looking for gil.

Residence: Abandoned buildings, sometimes where he’s working

Birthplace: The Black Shroud

Patron Deity: Oschon, Azeyma

Physical Appearance~

Hair: Long, dirty blonde hair, usually in a single braid and often rather dirty.

Eyes: Aquamarine Blue.

Height:5’6

Build: A rather lean build, fit for someone who does a lot of parkour.

Distinguishing Features/Marks:

Scars - Zhaji has numerous scars all over his body, nothing too significant. Due to his less than ideal lifestyle, he may be agile and swift, but not exempt from being caught and punished.

Additional Information~

??? - Zhaji has a secret; a keen eye if they’re lucky might be able to see the signs. Spend a lot of time with him and he might on a rare occasion slip up. But if he so happens to reveal it willingly. Then it’ll probably be the last secret you’ll ever know. ??? - Zhaji has a secret; a keen eye if they’re lucky might be able to see the signs. Spend a lot of time with him and he might on a rare occasion slip up. But if he so happens to reveal it willingly. Then it’ll probably be the last secret you’ll ever know. ??? - Zhaji has a secret; a keen eye if they’re lucky might be able to see the signs. Spend a lot of time with him and he might on a rare occasion slip up. But if he so happens to reveal it willingly. Then it’ll probably be the last secret you’ll ever know.

RP Hooks~

Employment: Zhaji doesn’t have a secure job, and so he travels the land looking for work wherever he can, if you’ve got a job for him and the reward is incentive enough, he’ll be sure to take it, no matter what it is. He’s a hard worker and will do his best to see the job through.

Twiji and crime - Those in the criminal underworld will know Zhaji under his alias, Twiji. His name is spoken mainly around small time bosses and gangs - but who’s to say it won’t reach the more powerful folk? Twiji is known to do pretty much any job thrown at him if it means gil or a few nights with his belly filled.

Important things to note:

He’s hungry. A lot.

Hyrtsolk Ketenlonwyn

Character Background

Born during the annexing of Doma and raised in a family whose line has been long filled with war veterans, politicians and public officials. Hyrtsolk Ketenlonwyn led a rather strict, yet spoiled upbringing. Astute, high strung and frequently self indulgent. Her parents extended tough love and a reality check for the young woman - forcibly conscripting her into the ranks as an Architectus to work on Baelsar’s Wall. But little was known that she would experience the calamity that was the Battle of Carteneau.

Hyrtsolk now travels the vast lands of Hydaelyn, continuing her journey to becoming a renowned bioengineer…All the while, her homeland and family is calling for her return.

General Information

Age: 25

Birthday: 8th Sun of the 4th Umbral moon

Race: Garlean-Hellsguard

Gender: Female

Sexuality: She’s still discovering herself.

Personal Information~

Profession: Apprentice Bioengineer

Residence: Travelling Tent, anywhere on Hydaelyn.

Birthplace: The Blindfrost Sea

Patron Deity:  Come on.

Physical Appearance~

Hair: Naturally, blonde. Currently it has been for a few years dyed blood orange with autumn yellow highlights.

Eyes: Baby Blue

Height: 7’8

Build: A toned, hourglass figure.

Distinguishing Features/Marks:

Birthstone and aetherical ink tattoo - A persian blue birthstone based upon her forehead. The birthstone itself is part of hellsguard culture, and Hyrtsolk displays it with pride.

Aetherical ink tattoo - The shimmering birthstone is adorned with a unique tattoo infused with aetherial ink that helps conduct her aether more efficiently.

Neck scarring - Hyrtsolk has received deep, glaring scars around her neck which presumably look like claw marks.

RP Hooks~

Garlean Citizen - Hyrtsolk grew up frequently travelling between Garlemald and Doma under the empires rule. Perhaps you were a school buddy - or childhood friend. Maybe she bullied you because you were a filthy Peregrinus!(Slaves and/or people of annexed territories.) Or you had a nice Kimono belt and she decided to ‘borrow’ it permanently. Perhaps friend of the family? We can get some of that pre-established relationship going and throw each other ideas!

Baelsar’s Wall - Hyrtsolk spent her late teens conscripted at Baelsar’s Wall as an Architectus  before the calamity. Perhaps you were work colleagues? Maybe she trod on you and made your life a misery because you were filthy Peregrinus! Again, hit me up with some of that pre-established relationships, thoughts and ideas and see how we get around it!

Femme Fatale/Gil Digger- A observing person would ask, where does a woman who lives in a tent, find the gil for such lavish items and an expensive? Her secret is to simply get someone rich enough to pay for her. Hyrtsolk has made it an artform seducing rich folk out of their hard earned gil, utilising her natural beauty and silver tongue to acquire a lifestyle unobtainable by normal means with half the effort. Perhaps you were one of her victims? Getting revenge for a friend? Or maybe you were one of her next targets? Let’s get something going~

OOC Contact Information

World: Balmung

Timezone: GMT (I’m from the UK.)

Discord: Drop me a message and I’ll give it to you if you’re interested!

I do discord RP, in-game RP or docs so whatever’s your preference, I don’t mind!