#anyways. so I get back the designs and while none of them were exactly what I had in mind

[kittlyns]

My best friend's birthday is in 5 days and I just got her present in the mail and it sucks. So I'm killing myself.

[heliads]

Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme:  kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect. 

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[ninupi]

Hii, can I request headcanons or fic for Mitsuya with a model reader?

crush? | t. mitsuya

₊˚⊹♡ tags; fem!reader, finale timeline so spoilers? mitsuya being a absolute sweetheart as usual, also him struggling a bit as a new designer lol, this is a slowburn ngl...y/n overthinking towards the end

₊˚⊹♡ wc; 3,500+

₊˚⊹♡ a/n; this was a bit vague so I wasn't too sure what you wanted exactly, I didnt mean for this to be so long but then I just kept writing and it became a lot longer then I anticipated LOL also ill probably rename this later, i never even know what to name some of these sometimes

Mitsuya threw down all the photos of headshots his assistant had brought him to look through "This is it?" he sighed rubbing his eyes tiredly. The girl stumbled around a bit "Uh yes sir, that's all of the models...you don't see any you like?" she questioned a bit frustrated.

"I'm sorry, but no, none of them have what I'm looking for exactly..." he sighed, standing up and picking up a headshot of a young man. "None of them? Like not a single one?" the girl questioned, a bit shocked. Mitsuya only shook his head while pacing around. 

"Well, I don't mean to step on your toes or anything, sir, but the show is in two months, and we need to start booking models..." she muttered, looking through her emails, hoping to see a response. You can call Hakkai, and I'll choose some of the people here, but give me a few more days to pick someone for the main piece."

Mitsuya ran a hand through his hair, softly pulling at the roots in frustration. He had someone specific in mind for the main piece of the show. Unfortunately, Okamoto, his assistant, was unable to book you. They didn't even receive an email back from your manager.

Mitsuya knew it'd be a miracle if he were able to book you for his show but he still tried. But now that the odds weren't in his favor he had to find a new model for the face of the show, he could just go with Hakkai. He wasn't too sure Hakkai wanted to sport a dress on the runway though...

You watched from the corner of your eye as your manager angrily swiped through her tablet, hundreds of emails in the reflection of her glasses. You went to say something when you felt a tug on your hair "Could you be a bit more gentle?" you muttered getting fed up, that was the sixth time this stylist had tugged on your hair in the last twenty minutes.

You didn't say anything when he softly apologized while continuing to do your hair in a crazy updo for your upcoming photoshoot. "Are you ok over there? You look like you're about to throw that thing" You call out to your manager who's now angrily typing away on her tablet.

"You would think after sending 15 emails and not receiving a single one back this person would stop emailing me about you," she muttered with furrowed eyebrows, who the hell was blowing up your manager about you anyway? You had just started seriously modeling this year and you've been very successful but you didn't think you were that desired by some people. 

"Who is it? What's it for?" you question now really curious about this person's persistence while shifting in your seat. "I don't even know, it's to walk at some small runway show, nothing worth your time." She sighs lifting her glasses to rest on the top of her head. 

You had only walked a few runways, and each time it was a bit chaotic but you had lots of fun "Oh really, who's the designer? I wouldn't mind doing another runway!" your manager looks at you a bit shocked while you smile at her innocently. 

She quickly recuperates and walks over to you holding out her tablet "He's a small upcoming designer, Mitsuya Takashi? I've never heard of him personally but Hakkai Shiba walks at almost all of his shows." She explains while swiping through some of his designs. 

"No way! I love his clothes, why didn't you tell me sooner?" you whine looking at all the emails his assistant has sent your manager over the last two weeks. You feel yourself basically shaking in excitement at the thought of walking for one of your new favorite designers. 

"I didn't think you even knew who he was, I didn't until I got her emails!" she explains pointing at the tablet in your hands, and to give her credit you had just discovered the upcoming designer recently. 

One of the other models at a photo shoot you were at was wearing a beautiful dress and when you asked her where she got it, she explained that Mitsuya had made it for her as a thank-you for modeling for him. Not only was the man extremely talented, but he also seemed really kind. 

You had always searched for his clothing at any store you had gone to, you never had any luck though. You were thinking about reaching out to him yourself but lately, your schedule has been extremely busy. This was the perfect opportunity you were searching for. 

"Tell him yes, anything he wants, yes I'll do it! If I have stuff scheduled when he needs me, cancel it!" you smile handing your manager her tablet back and standing up seeing now that your hair is done. "B-but what about the shoot with miu miu?" your manager sputtered quickly following behind you.

"Cancel it!" you smile closing your dressing room door in your manager's face. 

When Okamoto barged into Mitsuya's office sputtering about booking you he thought she was crazy. But when she showed him the email from your manager stating you agreed to walk the runway in his clothes he almost passed out. He immediately started stitching together your dress, too excited to sleep even though it was already past midnight.

Now two weeks later, he was almost done with the piece just having to add the tedious details and fix some stitching here and there. But it was also the day you'd come by for the first fitting and be meeting mitsuya for the first time. 

To say he was nervous was an understatement, he kept pricking his fingers while working on the other pieces for the show and stumbling over stray rolls of fabric. He didn't even realize the time until Okamoto came in telling him you'd be there in an hour, he quickly started to clean his office not wanting you to see the chaotic room. 

When he finally finishes cleaning the room he looks around for any stray items lying around. Not seeing a single thing hethrew himself onto his chair when a big sigh, he knew you should be here any moment. He was so nervous he keptthinking about what he'd say to you when he finally met you. 

"Thank you so much for accepting...no thank you for giving me the opportunity...no..." he sighed still not able to think properly when he heard his office door open. Quickly standing up he dusted himself off and watched as you and your manager walked in talking to Okamoto. 

"Yeah I was so jealous after she told me he had custom-made it for her, I was tempted to steal it from her dressing room when she wasn't there!" Mitsuya watched you as you laughed while readjusting your purse on your arm, he doesn't think he's seen a more beautiful woman. 

You were wearing a simple outfit, a black long-sleeve turtle neck, some dark-washed jeans, and a pair of black boots. It was nothing special but Mitsuya thought you looked amazing, he couldn't even bring himself to say something when you looked at him. 

"Oh my god, it's so nice to finally meet you! I've been waiting for this day since Saki told me about this!" you exclaimed briefly motioning over to your manager but quickly making your way to Mitsuya shaking his hand. He could only smile in response a little too shocked to say anything at the moment. 

"Really? I didn't even think you knew who I was..." he awkwardly laughed while shaking your hand "I just discovered you recently from Momo? I'm sure you remember her, you made her that gorgeous custom dress! I've been searching for some of your pieces in stores but I've had no luck" 

Mitsuya was loss for words the more you kept talking, you knew who he was? And you were on the hunt for some of his clothing on your own time? Not even saying anything he immediately bowed at a 90-degree angel "Thank you so much, you don't know how much that means to me, seriously" 

You immediately begin to panic "What? What do you mean I haven't done anything!" you say while bringing him up by his shoulders "You agreeing to model my clothes is good enough, you're a very sought-after model y/n. You wearing my clothes is bound to help me take off as a designer so I thank you." 

You can feel your face flush a bit, you've never had someone be so sincere to you in this industry before. Now you realize you've made a great choice by agreeing to model for Mitsuya, you hope you can continue to work with him in the future. 

"Ok let's get to work before you make me cry or somethin'.." you softly joke taking off your bag and handing it to you Saki "Oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to- ok yeah let's get to work!" Mitsuya stumbles putting his glasses on and grabbing his sketchbook.

"You can take a seat over there if you'd like" Mitsuya motions over to a couch in the corner of his office when he notices your manager aimlessly standing around "Oh thank you, do you mind if I make a few calls and whatnot?" she sighs taking a seat with your stuff. 

"No of course not, if you need anything just ask me or Okamoto" he waves off now walking over to you "I actually already started working on the piece if you'd like to see it? Or even try it on?" he mutters flipping through his sketchbook"Of course I'd like to try it on!" 

The rest of the day was spent talking and getting to know each other while Mitsuya tailored the dress to fit you better and went over the rest of the look with you. He also asked for your input and what you thought would look good or what you'd like to wear, you could help having a small crush on the man after leaving his office that night. 

It's now been two months since you and Mitsuya first met and you two have gotten a lot closer since that day. Some nights after you've finished with your fittings for other designers you'd invite Mitsuya out for dinner, wanting to talk the man more.

And if you two weren't out for dinner you were constantly texting, but now that his show is this weekend you haven't heard much from him. You weren't too surprised you imagined he was extremely busy trying to finish the last details for the show and whatnot, but you had to admit you missed him. 

You just finished with a small photoshoot for a magazine when you checked your phone and saw that he still hadn't responded to your message from this morning. "Loverboy hasn't answered you?" you turn to glare at Saki who ignores you while packing up your stuff. 

"I told you to stop calling him that…but no he hasn't answered" You sigh grabbing your bag from her arm and begin to walk out of the studio "Do you want to stop by his office?" you almost trip when walking down the stairs "What? We can't just stop by his office like that, he's probably really busy!"

Saki only shrugs her shoulders while opening the door to the building allowing you to go first "Why not? You can bring him a coffee or something, I'm sure he'd appreciate it" You bite your lip contemplating it a bit, you really did want to see the man but you also didn't want to bother him if he were busy. 

"Ok yeah let's go, but we have to get coffee from the place by his office, he really likes that place!" you explain while getting into the back of the car with Saki who playful rolls her eyes "Yeah I know you've only told me a thousand times how much he likes that place."

Now standing outside of Mitsuya's office with his and your order in one hand and a box of pastries in the other you wonder if this was a good idea. You two had hung out plenty of times but you'd never shown up at his office unannounced and you hoped your sudden arrival didn't annoy him. 

Before you can even think about turning around his office door opens and you see a beautiful girl walking out on the phone. She doesn't notice you at first too immersed in her conversation but when she does she gives a look of confusion and then goes wide-eyed. 

"Are you here for Takashi?" at first you thought she was one of the other models walking in his show but when she refers to him by his first name you begin to doubt it. Who exactly was she? Mitsuya never mentioned a girlfriend before or anything similar. 

"Yazuha can you go to the bakery down the street and get us some stuff?" you hear someone call from Mitsuya's office making the girl roll her eyes. "Actually it looks like someone is here for Takashi" She then motions for you to walk into the office as she continues her way out the door still on the phone. 

When you walk in you see Mitsuya looking in your direction with a confused face which quickly morphs into a smile "Y/n! What are you doing here?" he quickly makes his way over to you grabbing the sweets and drinks out of your hand and placing them on his desk. 

You quickly glance over the man standing in what you assume will be his runway outfit and back towards Mitsuya "I just wanted to see you, plus you never answered my messages. So I thought you could use some fuel or whatever…I didn't think you'd have other people over I should've gotten more" 

You begin to look through your bag for your wallet going to ask the other man what he'd like "Don't worry about it y/n, I'm sorry for not answering your messages I've been finishing up Hakkai's piece all day. I'm almost done, if you want we can all go grab dinner together or something?" 

You didn't even realize he was leading you to sit over on the couch until you were seated "Oh uh- ok yeah that's fine with me" Then it hits you that you didn't even introduce yourself to the other person in the room. 

"I'm so sorry I'm y/n, I guess we'll be walking in the show together it's nice to meet you" You smile up at the very tall man who just turns away from you with a blank look on his face. What the hell was his deal "This is Hakkai, he's not good at talking to girls so don't take offense. And the girl outside is his sister, Yazuha, I've known both of them since middle school."

You watch Mitsuya continue to work on a few pieces of Hakkai's suit while the boy doesn't say anything just then Yazuha walks back in "Don't bother talking to that guy, he can't talk to girls" You turn to her with a small smile while Mitsuya softly laughs "Yeah Mitsuya's already told me, I'm y/n it's nice to meet you" 

Unlike her brother Yazuha has no problem talking to you "Yeah I know, who wouldn't? You're like one of the top models right now, I thought Takashi was lying when he said he booked you." she muttered while shaking your hand. 

"Ah I'm so glad Okamoto reached out to my manager, it's been so nice working with Mitsuya I hope he and I can keep working together in the future!" You hear Mitsuya curse a bit under his breath "Are you ok Taka-Chan?" you turn and watch as Mitsuya nods sucking on his thumb.

"Y-yeah just pricked my finger a bit, but yeah I've really enjoyed working with you too y/n…" he smiles, and you note his ears are red. You return a bashful smile and turn back towards Yazuha who's giving you a smug look "Right…well if you start working with Takashi a lot then you'll be seeing us a lot too so let's be good friends" 

You've always had after-show jitters but right now you feel like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. The show went great but before the show, you barely had any time to actually talk to Mitsuya, just a quick prep talk and good luck. But right before the show actually started he had told you to immediately find him afterwards. 

You wondered the entire time what is it that he wanted to talk to you about, then you wondered what he'd have to say about your walk. What if he hated it and never wanted you to model for his clothes ever again? You didn't even notice when he knocked on your dressing room door, too preoccupied with your thoughts. 

You only realized he was there when he gently opened the door "Y/n? Are you in here?" you quickly walked over to the door opening it the rest of the way "Oh I'm sorry I wasn't sure you were in here" you notice he has a big bouquet of flowers and an even bigger gift bag in his hand. 

Unable to say anything you just pull him into your dressing room and close the door "Sorry I didn't hear you knocking on the door" you mutter turning to look at him. He doesn't say anything and neither do you for a while until he holds out the bouquet "These are for you…"

You take the flowers from him and notice their your favorite flowers in your favorite color. You also notice how nicely they're wrapped, they had to be really expensive "Mitsuya, these are gorgeous…thank you so much." 

He only shrugs with a shy smile on his face "I wanted you to have something nice… I-I did my best to wrap them but I've never done it before so I'm sorry if it looks a bit sloppy…" He rambles while gently grabbing them from your hands and setting them down. 

You couldn't believe that he took the time to wrap the flowers himself, they look professionally done. You couldn't even deny it anymore if you wanted, you've totally fallen for Mitsuya. He's been nothing but good to you since you first met and watching the way he treats his friends and other models shows that he's just a great guy. 

"Mitsuya they're gorgeous, they look perfect seriously, thank you so much for these." you mutter still admiring the beautiful bouquet "Oh well I'm glad you like them, I also have this for you…" he whispers placing the huge gift bag on a chair in the room leaving you to open it.

You wonder what can be in the bag, it's massive but when you peek inside the bag you don't really see much. Turning to him to give him a suspicious look he just shrugs his shoulders with a cheeky smile "Open it" Turning back towards the bag you pull out the tissue paper. 

At first, you just see some fabric but when you pull it out you notice it's a gorgeous dress. Looking at all the intricate details you're lost for words "Do you like it..?" you hear Mitsuya ask while he walks up closer to you "You made this for me?" 

You turn towards him now holding the dress close to your chest as if he just threatened to take it from you "Yeah I made it last week, if you don't like something I can- No!" he looks at you wide-eyed at your interruption "Sorry but no Mitsuya it's- it's…I seriously don't have words I can't believe you made this for me?" 

He can't help the cocky grin on his face "I'm so glad you like it…" Then you notice his smile falter a bit "Would you like to wear it tonight to dinner…" Was he asking you out right now? Like a real date? "With me I mean" he quickly clarified seeing your blank look.

You seriously wanted to jump for joy but decided against it to not embarrass yourself "Like just you and me…? No Yazuha or Hakkai?" you don't want to get your hopes up too soon "Yes y/n just you and me, no Hakkai or Yazuha, just us. Like a date" he softly laughed walking towards you grabbing one of your hands. 

You got one little hop in before you stopped yourself "S-sorry I'm just really happy right now" you explain when he gives you a funny look "But yes, I'd love to go on a date with you Mitsuya" you mutter now too shy to look him in the eyes.

"Ok great, I'll wait outside for you then we can go" he smiles softly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb "Ok I'll get dressed right now!" you laugh gently pushing him out of your dressing room and quickly grab your phone to tell Saki she can leave without you. 

[tsarisfanfiction]

A Father's Duty

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family, Angst Characters: Apollo, Zeus, Cabin Seven Apollo loves his children. He also loves his father. @toapril-official is back for another year! My life is pretty busy this year but I'm still going to try and get all 30 days done - I've gone into it with a plan this year, so maybe that'll help... Anyway, here's TOApril day 1 - Tumbling Love. Zeus' parenting is its own warning, I think.

The first thing Apollo noticed as he approached Camp Half Blood was the shrieking.  High pitched shrieks, ones that could only come from children, and if he hurried his pace a little – he had chosen to arrive quietly this time, no sun chariot landing by the lake, no flash of light as a god materialised, just a good, mortal-fashioned stroll through the surrounding woods towards the archway proclaiming the name of the camp for all those who could see it – then that was no-one’s business but his own.

Shrieks, like all noises, came in a variety of fashions, and while Apollo had seen mortals and immortals alike react in panic at all types, it was easy for him to identify these shrieks as shrieks of laughter.  Demigods shrieking in laughter, mostly the younger ones with their higher pitched voices but there were some deeper, older voices tangled in as well.

And they were close.

He crested Half-Blood Hill, brushing past Peleus and not sparing the golden fleece a single glance, nor Thalia’s old pine tree, to see what, exactly, the demigods were up to that made them so raucous – not that Apollo minded the noise.  The opposite, in fact – he loved hearing the demigods so carefree.

He loved seeing it, too.

The harpies were no doubt watching on somewhere in resignation as their charges added more work to their already never-ending list of cleaning chores to keep the camp safe and hygienic, but to Apollo the sight of green-stained t-shirts, and pants, and even skin, was a beautiful sight.

Demigods were still children, not magically older or more mature than their mortal peers even if their parentage and the world it brought them into forced them into something more aware aged them before their time because if it didn’t it would kill them, and seeing them act like it always settled something in Apollo’s essence.  He wasn’t the god of children, or youth – Hebe would have several unpleasant things to say if he so much as suggested he was - but he was their protector, the protector of not just the young but of their youth.

It was a role he kept failing at, with demigods, as the world kept pushing and pushing.  This camp was the closest he could come to succeeding at it and its success was intermittent at best.

Right now, it seemed like it was succeeding.

Merida giggled as she pushed her twin, who yelped as he overbalanced and grabbed at her in turn as he fell, dragging her down with her.  They rolled down the hill in a mess of limbs and squawking, yelling at each other and humour surrounding them as they went.  A little further along the hill, Kayla threw herself down with abandon, closely followed by Jerry, while Yan took the more sensible approach of laying down before starting to roll.  Gracie was talking quietly with Austin, but both of them were also grass-stained, so they just seemed to be taking a break from the time honoured tradition of children rolling down hills for no reason other than because they could, and because it was fun.

Apollo loved the sight.

More heads came back into view, Will with his arm around Raphael and blond hair threaded through with glimpses of green, the two boys laughing.  Behind them, Alice’s make-up was smeared but she didn’t seem to notice as she goaded Sam into pulling her up the hill, while Emma hung onto her own waist to get dragged up.

None of them noticed him, but that was by design as he faded into the background, content for the moment to watch them play, tumbling down the hill again and again and feeling his essence thrum with pure love.

There was nothing quite like loving his children.  Nothing like being a father to these innocent, battered but not broken demigods.  Apollo loved being a father, always had done even if he usually looked too young to be one, by mortal standards.

He didn’t understand the people who didn’t.

Apollo watched his children play, unaware of their audience, and considered joining them, letting his presence be known.  It had been a little while since he’d last dropped by in person, even if he’d spoken with most of them in their dreams the past couple of evenings.

The scent of ozone, sprites of static brushing against his essence, stopped him before he could make a move.

“You should not be here,” his own father said, sparking into existence.  For Zeus, it was an unusually subtle display of his presence, but Apollo supposed he didn’t want the demigods to notice he’d deigned to make his way into their camp, even if it was only the very fringes of it, standing underneath the boughs of the tree he had once created to prevent his daughter dying entirely.  Apollo was glad of that, too - he didn’t want his children, or any other demigods, realising Zeus was there, either.

It was bad enough that they were in Zeus’ presence, catching his attention, in the first place.  Apollo supposed he hadn’t been subtle enough in his own approach, not if his father had noticed.

Zeus wasn’t looking at his children, though.  Not yet, at least.  Instead, his piercing blue eyes were focused on Apollo himself, which was never a comfortable position to find himself in, but it was better than it being his children.  He wasn’t foolish or naive enough to think that his father wasn’t fully aware of the demigods, and whose children they were, though.

His father didn’t look as stern as Apollo expected him to be, when he met the older god’s gaze with his own, trying to minimise Zeus’ reasons to look to his children.

It was to no avail.  He’d barely made eye contact when Zeus looked away, looking instead at the children who continued to play, oblivious to their grandfather’s presence.  Apollo stifled Lester’s instinct to swallow, to show nervousness.

“Although,” Zeus continued, as though there had been no pause, not giving Apollo time to scramble to come up with an answer that would both appease his father and not put his children in more danger than they already were, “it is a father’s prerogative to watch over his children.”

There had never really been a hope that Zeus wouldn’t know exactly who he was looking at.

Those bright blue eyes, so much like Jason’s except Jason had been a mortal and his father was the king of the gods with windows to an essence of an eternal storm, whirling and flashing for millennia, much like the storm on the surface of the planet named for his Roman form, glanced back at Apollo again, and he felt seen in a way he didn’t want to be, not by this god, of all beings.

“In that, we are not so different, you and I,” his father commented, and Apollo had to fight to supress the unease that rippled through his essence.  “Watching over our children, guiding them… making sure they take the right path, against all other temptations.  Those are a father’s duty.”

“I agree.”  It wasn’t something Apollo could deny, wasn’t something he’d argue with his father about, not when his children were right there.

Zeus smiled, and it made him look benevolent.  Kind.  The way Apollo remembered him from his youth, before he learnt that storms were unpredictable and it didn’t matter how pretty the sky was when the lightning struck.  He didn’t know why Zeus was showing him those same pretty skies now.

It felt like a warning.

“I cannot stop you from being a father,” the older god told him, “but you must remember, Apollo, that demigods are mortal.  They are not gods.  Their lives flicker for less than a century before they disappear forever.”

That, felt like a threat.

“I know, Father,” he said, not even risking a glance towards the slope of the hill, although it didn’t stop him being aware of Kayla throwing herself back down again, and the shrieks of laughter that accompanied it.

“A father guides, but he knows when to step back,” Zeus said, as though he hadn’t said anything at all.  “Remember that, too, my son.  Do not linger - and I am sure I do not have to remind you of the Laws.”

He disappeared in another crackle of ozone, before Apollo could even digest the words, but Apollo was under no illusions that he was still being watched.  There could be no visiting his children today, not now.

Not while Zeus was watching… and Zeus was always watching.

Watching, and judging, ready to correct his children’s paths if they strayed.  Apollo watched Gracie push Austin down the hill and surprised a wince as he recalled falling himself, no doubt pushed by his father for all he still didn’t remember it.

He tried to imagine doing that to his own children, remembered Hal and the way he’d had to give him a gentle push before Zeus interceded and pushed harder, tried to imagine pushing any of them hard of his own volition.  He failed.

Guiding his children?  Yes.  But he couldn’t conceive of doing to his children what his father had done to him.  Not even his immortal ones, the ones that wouldn’t flicker and fade within a century.  He couldn’t imagine how Zeus had done it.

Sometimes, it made him want to hate his father.  Olympus knew Zeus’ treatment of him wasn’t right, that the Apollo of old, before the Ancient Laws and his own father’s threats of punishment, would’ve punished parents for if they’d done it to their children.  Apollo didn’t know if Zeus loved him, any more.  He thought he had done, once upon a time, but now?  Now, it was difficult to tell.

Now, it didn’t matter.  Zeus could love him with the strength of a thousand suns and it wouldn’t change anything, because his actions and words were angled to control, to punish, to hurt, regardless of the intent behind them.

The same way, it didn’t matter that Apollo still loved Zeus, that even now, standing in the shelter of Thalia’s tree and watching the children that his father may or may not have just subtly threatened, he couldn’t take back the centuries of love that he’d poured into his father.  He feared him, distrusted him, at times resented him… but he still loved him.

He always would, he knew, and it felt like a betrayal to his own children that he could love the god that would snuff their lives out with a single thunderbolt if the mood struck him – the god that had done that exact same thing before.  It felt like he shouldn’t love them both, but he did.

It didn’t matter, though.  It didn’t change anything.  Apollo had loved Commodus – still, deep inside his essence, loved him despite everything he’d done.  That hadn’t stopped him from killing him twice; if anything, it had spurred him on to end him with his own hands, rather than let anyone else take his life.

Loving his father wouldn’t stop him from doing what he needed to do.  Maybe he couldn’t stop loving him, but he could still choose his children over him.

His father wouldn’t hurt his children.  Not again.

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I would love a Jamie Tartt x reader where the readers ex boyfriend was a footballer maybe a goalie and Jamie has to play against him in a match. I know it’s very vague but I’d love to see what you’d do! No pressure!! :))

I loved this request! Hope I did it justice

would hit him in a heartbeat now

You do not have a thing for footballers you swear. It just happens. You’ve been in exactly three and a half relationships, and only one of them was not a footballer.

He was a coach.

Anyway.

You would describe your type as lovable asshole, but your friends would leave out the lovable. Because of that, none of your splits have been exactly… amicable. Well, that’s not true. Your situationship had been sweet but wrong timing, and though it hurt, there were no hard feelings. 

Really, you were both in your late teens and he was scouted early on, so it was never going to work out. You always keep up with his career though, a part of you secretly cheering him on even if he plays against your boyfriend’s team. From time to time, you think about texting him to see if he has the same number, but the next day you see him splashed in a tabloid, making out with Keeley Jones, so you leave it. 

Six months later, you’re in a relationship with a West Ham goalie named Aleksander.

Seven months after that, he’s broken your heart by telling you you weren’t the right material for a footballer’s girlfriend.

Over text.

While you are at an away game.

Against AFC Richmond.

Eight minutes later you turn off the part of your brain that cares, dig out Jamie Tartt’s old number, and write, hey! not sure if this is still your number, but I’ll be at your game today and wanted to wish you luck. - the original number 9.

Your house number had been 9 when you first met Jamie. He’d write you notes addressed to 9. For example:

9 -

Meet me at our spot at 8?

10 <3

(He called himself a 10/10).

Ten hours later, you are sitting across from Jamie in a pub, laughing about growing up and whatever, all thoughts of Aleksander firmly gone from your head. 

He asks you out after flirting for eleven days.

—

You and Jamie have a certain level of comfortability that comes with knowing someone for so long. Neither of you feel like you have to pretend. You just live with each other, and it is the best. 

You’re on your fifth date, and second one at his house when, as you get up to go, he catches your hand and says, “Stay,” in a voice made gravelly by kisses.

You let him pull you back on the couch, and you do.

You end up staying a lot.

You’re together for a year, when, sitting on that same couch, Jamie says, “Playin’ West Ham next week.”

The marker in your hand slips from where you were coloring his tattoo. “What?”

“We go against West Ham next week. Wanna come?” Jamie asks, oblivious.

You trace the design on his right forearm. “I do, it’s just- Aleksander’s gonna be there. As their goalie. And I’d rather not be there to hear what he has to say to me.” You look up at Jamie. “It’s not because I don’t want to be there for you. It’s that- well, he, he always has things to say about his exes. And it’s not kind. I don’t really think I can handle it right now, you know?”

Jamie looks at you thoughtfully and nods, slipping his hand into yours. 

“D’you want to stay here while I’m gone? ’Stead of hanging around your flatmate. Might be nice to have a break.”

You smile, squeeze his hand and reply, “Sure!” grateful that he’s not pushing it.

Jamie grins back. “Good, I hate coming home to an empty house. Always hearing sounds like there’s ghosts or some shit.”

You laugh and shove his arm playfully. “And here I thought you were being completely selfless.”

—

It’s the day of the West Ham game. You’ve stolen one of Jamie’s jerseys from his closet and are on the couch with the largest bowl of popcorn known to mankind. You’re a little nervous to see Aleksander on the screen, but it’s overshadowed by your excitement to see Jamie play.

A quarter into the game, Jamie starts making his move. The team gets the ball near the goal, he shoots and-

He’s blocked by Aleksander.

Aleksander goes up to Jamie, and from your screen you see him ask a question and then make a lewd gesture.

Jamie’s face goes bright red and in an instant, Colin is holding him back from hitting Aleksander.

You see Jamie be pulled away, then watch him jog over to the coaches. Here’s what you don’t see:

“Permission to be a prick, coach,” Jamie says, still seeing red. How dare that dickhead say something so disgusting about you.

“Fuck no,” Roy says in a tone that says no arguing. 

“Coach,” Jamie says, because he’s never been one for self-preservation, “if you don’t tell me to be a prick, I’m going to be one all by meself, so I really think it’s better if you just give me permission.”

Ted, Beard, and Roy look at each other. Ted nods. “Alright Jamie, if you think that’s best then I guess, uh,” he holds up his middle finger behind his jacket. Roy and Beard follow suit, and Jamie smiles.

The game’s back on and you watch Jamie get going again. He kicks the ball and it hits Aleksander in the worst possible spot.

“Ooh!” You cover your mouth with your hands. That looks like an accident, but you know it’s not. There was a closeup of Jamie, and you can see that glint in his eye. He’s being a little prick.

He goes up to Aleksander to “check on him,” and whispers something in his ear. Aleksander, still doubled over in pain, nods. Jamie slaps him on the back a little too forcefully, then swaggers away, tongue out. 

You’re going to ask him about it when he gets home.

—

Richmond loses, and when Jamie walks into his house you’re on him in a moment. His hands are tangled in your hair and you’re tugging on his shirt and it’s not till three hours later, as you’re laying in bed playing with his hair, that he says, “I don’t regret it.”

It takes you a moment. “What?”

Jamie’s laying on top of you so he pushes himself up a bit to meet your eyes. “I don’t regret kicking that ball into that dickhead’s dick. I just wish I could have kicked him harder.”

“What happened out there, Jaim? You were mad-mad.”

He shakes his head slightly. “What do you think? That fuckin prick asked me a dirty question about you, and I lost it. Didn’t care about the game anymore. Didn’t want him to think he could fuckin get away with it.”

He looks so distraught and sincere that you can’t help it, you have to kiss that look off his face.

“I love you, Jamie Tartt,” you whisper. His face turns devilish.

“Mind showing me just how much?” he asks and you dissolve in a fit of giggles as he begins to pepper kisses along your neck.

[mc-lukanette]

"I sent you a twenty-page document on Jagged's requests. You can't tell me you didn't get it," Penny told the person on the phone. Putting her free hand over the lower half of it to keep them from hearing her, she glanced over her shoulder at Marinette on the couch and said, "I'm sorry. We'll talk about designs as soon as I'm done."

Marinette waved away the concern, understanding the struggle of changed plans. She'd already gathered enough information based on the call they'd had inviting her to their hotel room that she could stay occupied by doing some experimental sketches anyway.

However, realizing how much she may have underestimated the time she was going to spend there, she set her sketchpad aside and pulled out her phone. Navigating to her text conversation with Luka, she typed out a couple messages to update him on what was going on.

Got stuck here a little longer. Penny seems swamped. We could do this any other time, so I'm surprised she didn't send me home yet.

She got a reply less than a minute later.

I'm not. Everyone loves you and wants your talent, Marinette. They're probably making sure no one else can steal you away.

She shook her head in disbelief at such a bold statement, but smiled. Luka was never afraid to say exactly what was on his mind and, while she didn't agree with him, it did make her happy.

She was about to message him back when she caught movement out of the corner of her vision. She looked past her phone to check, nearly screaming when she saw Jagged's face mere inches away from her.

"W-what?!" she asked, stiff. "What's wrong? Did I zone out?!"

"You were smiling," he stated.

"I'm sorry! I'll stop smiling!"

He snorted, then plopped down next to her on the couch, resting both arms along the backrest. "I didn't say there was anything wrong with smiling! A rock star's smile is one of their best assets!" He smirked for emphasis. "But you looked like you were texting your boyfriend."

"H-huh?"

He tilted his head. "Girlfriend?"

"No! I was texting Luka!"

"So his name's Luka!" Jagged brightened, leaning in with interest. "What's he into besides you?"

"Besides—" Marinette choked. "No, h-he's a musician? He plays guitar!"

"Guitar!" he exclaimed, and which was clearly the only word he'd heard. He jumped to his feet, strolling over to Penny and wrapping an arm around her. "Hear that? Our frockstar's got herself a rock star boyfriend!"

Penny ignored him briefly to talk into the phone, "If you can't take the requests, you can always find a different number one music star to book your venue," then covered the lower half again to address Marinette. "Congratulations."

"But—!"

"I told you," Jagged boasted, though to no one in particular, "our designer deserves the best and has the best taste!"

—————

Luka was on his way home when he heard a familiar sound of pounding footsteps behind him. Stopping in place, he turned to look at the source, bracing himself as Marinette practically plowed into him.

It would've been delightful had she not looked so distressed.

"Luka, I'm so sorry!" she burst, gripping his sleeves. "I swear I'll make it up to you!"

"Easy, Marinette," he soothed, taking her wrists and gently pulling her hands away. "What happened?"

"Nggh." She pouted, then hung her head in shame and replied, "Jagged Stone thinks we're dating."

That—

...huh.

He kept on a poker face, not wanting to freak her out further with his potential reaction. Something must've happened to make Jagged think that they were dating, and while he recalled sending Marinette an affectionate text earlier, that alone shouldn't have been enough to make any assumptions.

Did that mean that it was something Marinette did? And it had been convincing evidence for someone to think they were dating? Granted, Jagged Stone wasn't known for being a perceptive guy and Luka was content with the friendship he had with her. He hadn't confessed for that very reason, but—

Oh, she was still talking.

"Sorry," he interrupted, having caught none of it, "what were you saying?"

She rubbed an arm, embarrassed, her hand slipping under her sleeve to rub at her shoulder. "I...I was asking if we could pretend to date? He seemed so happy for me and I didn't want to disappoint him and neither of us are dating anyone—but if you're uncomfortable or you already like someone then I'll think of something else!"

Huh.

On one hand, it was charming in a way how much she wanted to please everyone, if a bit concerning, but he didn't miss the amusement of her talking about him "already liking someone" when she was the one he liked. Perhaps ironically, he might've even agreed to the proposa—suggestion if it hadn't been for that fact. He simply didn't have it in him to date her if it wasn't real.

"...I can't," he admitted reluctantly, as tempting as it might've been to say otherwise. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he frowned and explained, "It's not your fault, Marinette, and I'm not uncomfortable. I just couldn't fake date you."

She pursed her lips, disappointed but not upset with him. He looked away, feeling bad anyway but not so much to where it'd change his stance; it wouldn't be right. He would, however, be willing to help break the news to Jagged to make it a little easier for her, especially if his text was at all responsible for what happened.

The silence started to drag on. Luka debated on breaking it by asking her if she wanted to go somewhere or do something, but hesitated when he considered that it might seem insensitive after having just rejected her.

"Ah, then—!" Marinette, surprisingly, spoke up first, stepping forward and clutching Luka's forearms to get his attention back. "Then we'll real date! That's okay, right?"

His mouth fell open without a sound.

"I'm okay with it, and I'll take really good care of you! I've already been all over Paris, so I know all the best date spots, and I could always ask my parents where they like to go if we run out of ideas! So..."

She trailed off, the situation slowly dawning on the both of them. Luka's mind was still stuck somewhere at "I'm okay with it" and was making unsteady progress to get past it. The thought that the whole fake dating may have been a substitute for what she felt was the most she could get out of their relationship was something that'd have to come later.

Marinette's fingers twitched against his skin, then pulled away as her face flushed red. She couldn't look at him anymore, but her eyes were unable to decide on anything interesting enough to focus on. One foot shifted against the ground, and he realized what it meant before anything actually happened.

"Wait."

He reached out to grab her wrist, but it was too late. Marinette turned and bolted, leading into a full-on chase as he ran after her. If he'd had his bike then he could've caught up to her easily, but as things were, he was just barely keeping pace with her.

The problem was that he wasn't really a runner, and he knew without having seen it himself that Marinette had all sorts of experiences getting away from awkward situations or going somewhere in a hurry. Out of all the people he'd ever met that he could've fallen in love with...

She sped down the sidewalk, nearly bumping into someone on the way, then turned a corner. Luka followed, smoothly slipping past the same someone, but his eyes never left his destination. As he took the same bend that Marinette did, he caught sight of her just as she ducked between two buildings.

He hurried to go after her, only to find when he reached the alley that she'd seemingly disappeared. He looked left, right, then around the sidewalk he'd stood on in case his eyes had played a trick on him, but he couldn't see her anywhere.

A noise from somewhere up on the rooftops caught his attention. He stepped back as far as he could without tripping onto the road, eyes scanning the sky just in time to catch Ladybug throwing her yoyo out and swinging off into the distance.

Face slightly flushed, not entirely from the exertion, Luka snorted and put a hand to his mouth, his other hand feeling the phone in his pocket. He resolved to talk to her later when they both had cooled off, but it didn't stop the song that desperately wanted to be sung playing up a storm in his chest.

That's cheating, Marinette, he thought affectionately.

[myunghology]

— ✦ suits 'ya better than it does on me!

featuring mika kagehira x gn! reader (ft. shu :3)

warnings none!!

genre + context fluff, mika surprises reader with a matching outfit ^^

a/n for bffie. @xinnabon Spedrun this so u could feel bettur

"Mika.. Your outfits are adorable. Do you think I could borrow them sometime?" You say, catching the young male off guard from his stitching— specifically stitching the small plush keychain of a cat he bought you while you two were out shopping.

He pauses for a little bit, thinking of an answer. "Uh.. 'm not sure. Would they even fit you? Maybe they'll be too big." The older male responds, Tilting his head. Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult—?

Before you could open your mouth, he announces; "'M done. Looks as good as new. Should really stop buying 'ya things with cheap material.. Breaks too easily." He whines, fixing his stance to hand it back to you.

You smile as you clip it back to the zipper of your bag, making him smile as well, looking at your bag and then back up at you. "'Yer seriously already smiling just because of that? It was nothing."

"Everything and anything you'll do for me, I'll appreciate it." You say, looking at him with warm eyes, making him stutter. "So pretty.. 'Yer so pretty when you smile. I- I mean, 'yer always pretty, but especially when you smile. Like a gorgeous antique doll. "

He feels butterflies starting to stir in his stomach, he knows that you two are already dating— but he cant help but feel giddy whenever he talks to you. "Seriously? You're prettier than me."

Mika feels a warm blush creeping up on his cheeks as he starts to panic, "E-eh?! Don't be goin' around sayin' stuff like that to other people!" He responds while you pout.

"But it's true..?"

The next following day, you've decided to visit Valkyrie testing out— or basically fitting on their new clothes ready for debut with their newest song, well, not really? That was still for next week. But you weren't going to pass up the offer to see your boyfriend and his Oshi-san's new clothes before anyone else does.. Right?

Didn't think so.

"'M glad Oshi-san let you see us in these outfits beforehand," Mika says with a wide grin, Shu looking away in embarrassment; You weren't really upset about that.. It was clear he was still getting used to you. In a good way!

So here you were, sitting down while taking in the sight of your boyfriend and his unit mate in the new clothes they designed for themselves before looking back at their faces. "But they're really pretty. You did a great job on these outfits, Shu. You never upset."

The older male clears his throat from embarrassment, A faint blush coating his face. "Anyway.. Kagehira, don't you have something to give to [Name]?" Shu mentions, making your eyes sparkle.

Mika perks up, realizing— he almost forgot! "Right! Made somethin' for 'ya with Oshi-san's help." He says, his stupid yet cute smiles creep up to his pretty little face before running over to get something.

Your eyes carefully follow his movements, to which he ends up having neatly folded clothes in his arms. "This is for 'ya. Mentioned yesterday that you liked my clothes, so I decided to make a matching one for 'ya. 'M not taking all the credit though!" You smile at his words as he carefully puts it on your lap, they did this in just a day?

"Can 'ya try it on?" He asks, obviously in a flustered state. ".. Of course." It was fairly obvious that you were absolutely appreciative, walking over to their dressing room.

Some time later, you come out. Mika's face immediately lights up, while a small smile shows up on Shu's lips. The design is exactly like what Mika would wear— but added a little bit of personal touches too.

"This style suits 'ya better than it does on me! Looks adorable on 'ya. but 'ya look adorable wearing anything else anyway." He claps, making you blush.

"If you don't mind me asking.. How'd you get my measurements?" You ask genuinely confused, but then Shu tries to open his mouth— Mika ends up signaling him to stay quiet, making him scoff playfully. Guess that question isn't getting answered.

"It does look good on you though." Your boyfriend smiles at the compliment, even though it isn't for him. "See? Even Oshi-san agrees! Thanks to his help, this is my gift to you."

©myunghology. — xin feel better pukebear.. labyu brah ❤️

[theoceanoasis]

Rodimus accidently teasing Soundwave.

He buys some fabrics to wear at a party they are going to that night, the only problem they have Kaon markings that a conjunx would wear around their partner.

Poor Soundwave is trying to keep his composure and failing terribly.

He looked around trying to find the perfect fabric for a party he was going to that night. He scanned the aisles looking at all the different fabrics. He wanted to look amazing but none of these fabrics stood out to him. All of them were boring or ugly.

He wished Drift was there to help him but his Amica was spending the day getting ready with ratchet and pampering him. It was cute and he wished someone would do that for him, but it meant he didn't have his Amica's help.

He walked towards the back of the store looking at more fabrics when one caught his optic. It appeared to be Kaonian in design and was a beautiful fabric that was perfect for the party and exactly what he was looking for.

Taking it home he hid it from his roommate Soundwave. Wanting to surprise him because they were going at different times. Soundwave had to be there earlier while he had more time to get ready.

Later he walked into the event hall and heard someone announce his name. The fabric around him sparkled as he searched for Soundwave amongst the crowd.

When he found him he walked towards his friend and roommate. The crowds grew silent as everyone turned to watch him with curious expressions on their faces. He thought it was weird especially when he noticed his Amica in the crowd. He was staring at him in shock along with Ratchet.

He gave them a confused look until he noticed Soundwave who was standing with his back turned. He sped up tapping him on the shoulder and Soundwave turned around.

Taking in his outfit he looked surprised and he smiled.

"Do you like it?"

He did a little twirl and the room erupted with people whispering. He ignored them his optics focused on Soundwave.

"...It looks good."

His hands clenched at his sides and he leaned in slightly.

"Thanks when I saw this fabric I thought it was beautiful and decided to get it."

Soundwave nodded looking distracted and he frowned.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, you just look really good."

He smiled and looked out at the dance floor.

"Let's dance."

He pulled him towards the other dancers and Soundwave stumbled over himself.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine."

He gave him a skeptical look because he wasn't acting like himself. The two danced together and he studied Soundwave closely. He looked almost flustered as people watched them.

When the song ended and they got off the dance floor Drift came over looking shocked.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

He gave his Amica a confused look.

"About bonding Soundwave."

"What?"

He stared at him in shock and then glanced at Soundwave who refused to look at him.

"The markings on the cloth you are wearing tonight signal that you two are bonded."

He froze looking at Soundwave.

"You knew? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know."

Soundwave shook his head and Drift looked between them confused.

"You didn't know?"

"No. We are not bonded."

"Well after tonight everyone else will think so."

Both of them gave Drift a panicked look.

"What do we do now?'

"I don't know but maybe you can start by taking that off."

Drift pointed at the cloth he was wearing and he nodded.

"Okay, maybe it would be best if I left anyway."

He walked towards the door and Soundwave followed after him.

"I'm sorry about not telling you. I just didn't know what to say."

"It's okay."

The two walked home together and he changed out of the fabric he was wearing hoping everyone would forget about his little mishap.

By the next day, everyone knew what happened and they were getting a ton of messages congratulating them and asking why they never told them.

[duhragonball]

Chainsaw Man ch. 86-90

The shocking answers to all your existential dancing questions INSIDE!

Okay, so last time Makima basically laid out her true agenda, which is to either take control of Chainsaw Man's reality altering powers, or to die to Chainsaw Man in the attempt.

According to her, the Chainsaw Devil was the one even other devils feared, because when Chainsaw killed one of them, they stayed dead, instead of reincarnating. But devils in this world are manifestations of humanity's collective fear of a particular thing, so the only way to destroy a devil forever is to also destroy the very concept they embody. So in this universe there used to be a historical event called "World War II", which gave rise to a "World War II Devil", I guess. Then Chainsaw Devil killed that guy, and now World War II never happened.

Makima, aka the Control Devil, seems to be the only one who remembers these changes, and she knows Chainsaw Man is responsible for them, so she wants to take that power for herself and control it, natch.

I am not sure if she actually knows how to accomplish this. The Chainsaw Devil became Pochita and merged with Denji back in Chapter 1, and Makima seems to view this as an obstacle. Everything she's done since chapter 1 has been designed to undermine the contract between Pochita and Denji, but they're still combined, you know?

Also, Makima admits that she might lose and get destroyed by Chainsaw Man, so there's a sense of fatalism to her campaign. She's just sort of doing stuff and it's not clear if she cares if it works. She ordered Chainsaw Man to save her from the Hell Devil, and then he got cast down to Hell, and then he made it back, but then he attacked Makima instead of saving her. So I'm not sure what to make of it.

None of this really explains why Chainsaw Man is terrorizing a fast food place in Chapter 85. I think the idea here is that Denji is taking a back seat in this merger, and now we're seeing a more "pure" version of the Chainsaw Devil, without Denji's humanity to temper its actions. It still has Pochita's desire to experience Denji's dreams, though, and Denji once expressed a desire to eat a burger, so I think this is Pochita trying to do that on his own. The problem is that the Chainsaw Devil can't talk or do much of anything without carving up everything around him.

Coincidentally, Kobeni works at this burger joint, since she resigned from Public Safety. I'm not sure she recognizes this new (old?) version of Chainsaw Man, but either way, she's too afraid of it to serve it hamburgers without tripping and dropping the order. Her boss wonders if this is all an elaborate Candid Camera bit, because... well, it probably would make more sense than what is actually happening. Chainsw decapitates him. I'm not sure if this is accidental or not.

Kobeni finally manages to get the food to Chainsaw, who eats it, then recalls Denji's longing to go on a date. Chainsaw would like to do that too, but where would he find a girl to go out with him? Oh, there's one on his left. Perfect!

The bigger question is: Why is Chainsaw bothering with this at all? I think the idea here is that he lacks the sapience that Denji had. Not that Denji was a genius or anything, but he would probably understand that he didn't actually finish off Makima earlier, and he wouldn't just wander off to fool around with Kobeni. Then again, maybe seeking out Kobeni is exactly what he'd do in this situation. Just about everyone else he knows is dead. Denji and Kobeni were never close, but who else has he got left?

Anyway, he makes her dance on some arcade machine and when a Devil Hunter shows up to intervene, he kills that guy. I'm not sure he was in Public Safety or just a civilian hunter, but he had no idea what he was getting into.

Then he just sits around on a rooftop and Makima confronts him again. I think she's been following him for a little while now, and he's finally realized it. Or maybe all that stuff with Kobeni was just him killing time while he waited for Makima to make a move.

This time, Makima has a new squad to back her up. Some of these faces are familiar. Qwanxi, Reze, and the sword guy who was the grandson of the Yakuza guy Denji used to work for. But there's four others making their debut here.

This kind of irritates me, because the returning characters all seemed to be dead, and the implication here is that the other four were also guys we've seen before. I thought the girl was Angel Devil because of the hair and the jacket sleeves flopping around, but she's got her arms crossed and she's just wearing the jacket like a cape. And I thought the blonde guy might be the one who used the Stone Devil Power from a while back. But no, they're all new characters, yet they're presented like callbacks we're supposed to recognize.

Also, it's unclear whether Reze, Quanxi, and the sword guy are back from the dead or simply got brainwashed like everyone else. I enjoyed Reze and Quanxi from before, but this comeback is kind of weak because they're just stooges for Makima now, with no interest in their original motives.

Makima explains this, although I'm not sure Chainsaw is really capable of understanding what she's saying. It sure seemed like Reze and the others had a similar deal to Denji, where they weren't devils or humans or fiends, but a secret fourth thing. Makima confirms that they are indeed a secret fourth thing, and the reason it's a secret is because Chainsaw Man erased that secret fourth thing the same way he erased World War II.

Except... he kind of didn't, because Reze and the others are still here. The name was erased, but they're still around, somehow. The Chainsaw Man wiki calls them "hybrids", so that's as good a name as any. Maybe that's how they survived the erasure. Devils can merge with living humans, clearly, but maybe there's more than one way to do it, and Chainsaw erased one method but not the other. These seven hybrids and Chainsaw Man still exist because they were created with that other process, and Makima isn't aware of the distinction.

Or this erasure thing is bullshit. I mean, Chainsaw Man killed the Gun Devil, right? But there's still guns. Kishibe's group shot Makima earlier today. Chainsaw Man killed the Zombie Devil, but everyone still remembers zombies. Hell, some of Zombie Devil's own zombies were still around weeks after that battle.

So is there some loophole to this? Did Chainsaw Devil's erasure power only work before Pochita merged with Denji? Is that why Makima is trying to separate them? It's the only thing that makes sense to me. She already had Denji under her thumb before, so all of this would have been unnecessary if Denji could fit into her plans.

And maybe this is why Pochita merged with Denji. Perhaps, instinctively, he realized that the hybrids are indestructible enough that they can survive erasure, so combining with Denji would thwart Makima's plans.

I say this because Makima speaks of a battle between Chainsaw Devil, the "Weapon Devils", and the Four Horsemen. I'm pretty sure "Weapon Devils" refers to the seven hybrids under her control right now. As for the Four Horsemen, I went ahead and looked that up on the Chainsaw Man Wiki, and found out Makima is one of them. I wasn't entirely surprised to find that out.

Okay, some Bible triva for you: The Four Horsemen are not "War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death", as depicted in popular culture. The ones depicted in the Book of Revelation are actually named "War, Famine, Conquest, and Death." Conquest has been interpreted as Pestilence over the centuries, and I'm probably not qualified to weigh in on that discussion, but it's pretty clear that Makima is more akin to a conqueror than an infectious disease.

The reason it doesn't surprise me too much to learn all of this is because when Makima explained her plan to Kishibe, she spoke of using Chainsaw's power to erase other problems faced by humanity: war, hunger, and death. It seemed kind of odd to me that she name-dropped three horsemen without the fourth. I'm kind of a mark for this sort of thing so it sticks out when I see it. And it dawned on me that Makima wouldn't want to eliminate conquest because it's kind of her whole thing. So maybe that makes her the fourth horseman. Turns out I was onto something.

And I suppose Makima does sort of tie in to pestilence since she uses vermin to spy on her enemies, and she has that contract with the Prime Minister of Japan to undo her own deaths in exchange for the lives of random Japanese citizens. That's kind of like a plague.

Where was I? Oh, right. So Chainsaw Devil was fighting those eleven guys, then diapered. Makima says they couldn't find him, and that was because he had changed into an unrecognizable, near-death form. This was almost certainly Pochita, and that probably explains why the li'l guy was wounded when Denji first saw him.

So now, Makima can pick up this battle where they left off. Well, without the other three horsemen, apparently. You'd think they'd take an interest in this business, especially since Makima is actively plotting to eliminate them.

I have to say, this battle is kind of... blah for me. Reze and Quanxi were awesome, but Makima's brainwashing just makes them ordinary, especially with five other goons using the same kind of powers. These designs are pretty decent on their own, but part of what made Quanxi work was the way she was totally nude and her arrow stuff conveniently covered up her naughty bits. Reze fought in her barista clothes and then her undies, which was also kind of unique in this series. But now everyone's in a suit and tie, and it kind of falls flat.

The concept here is stretched kind of thin, because all eight of these characters are basically the same idea: a human figure with weapons for their head and arms. Gun Fiend was basically the same deal too, so that makes nine. It reminds me of that joke about how death metal bands all have white logos written in an illegible font. There was a list of bands at some show, and the only one you could read or really notice was "Party Cannon", which had this cutesy colorful logo because it was a My Little Pony reference.

And right now, Makima is Party Cannon, because she's literally the only one in this battle who doesn't look like a scribbly figure covered in screentone. Chainsaw defeats some of the hybrids, but the rest of them combine their attacks and Makima uses her own fingergun thing to try to drive him higher and higher into the air.

So she's going for a Battle Tendency strategy, which I certainly appreciate, but does she seriously expect Chainsaw Man to asphyxiate up there? I mean, if it was this simple, why not lure him into an enclosed space full of nitrogen? He'd suffocate before he realized anything was wrong.

But it's not that simple. Chainsaw just rips his own heart out and tosses it back down to the battlefield. On the way down, it grows back a new everything and I guess the old body dies or whatever.

Once he gets back down, he snares the remaining enemies in chains and...

Hooray, he won! Well, no. He didn't. None of this battle really mattered.

Chainsaw goes right back to where he left Kobeni and makes her dance some more, and then Makima shows up and asks why he doesn't eat her? Wait, is that how it's supposed to work? Chainsaw Devil has to eat a devil to erase what it stands for? No, wait, it can't work that way, but we'll get into that later.

So it's a stalemate, or so it would seem, except Makima has another card to play. Kobeni's fear of Chainsaw Man has diminished somewhat, and this is important because...

... the rest of the world really loves Chainsaw Man. By now, news has spread that the Gun Devil is finally dead, and everyone is grateful to Chainsaw Man for finishing him off. He's a hero! But if devils get their power from humanity's fear, then that means...

Yeah, Chainsaw Man is losing strength. All Makima has to do now is... the exact same thing she did before... and she'll win, because Chainsaw is too weak to resist.

Well, not the exact same thing. This time she just uses Angel Devil's power to make super weapons and throws a big spear down at Kobeni. She knows Chainsaw will step in to protect her, and that takes him down. So it's over, right? Wrong.

Remember Power? She's dead, though. Well, not quite, and Pochita asks her to help.

A while back, Power had Denji drink some of her blood, and this blood is still inside Denji's body, so even though Power's body was destroyed by Makima, a small portion of her lives on inside Denji. That won't last for long, but Pochita proposes that she drink some of his blood, which will... gee this is confusing.

Oh, okay, this is like how devils would eat the Gun Devil flesh to get a power boost. Power is weak, but if she eats some Chainsaw Man flesh she'll get strong enough to help. And she readily agrees because...

... Denji is her buddy. See, this is a really beautiful moment, because the two of them were assigned to work together by Makima, as part of her master plan to build up and tear down Denji's happiness and self-esteem. But what she failed to consider was that their friendship would also change Power into a better person, someone who would upset Makima's plans when she least expected it.

So Makima advances toward the fallen Chainsaw Man, who coughs up blood that turns out to be... whatever this is. Well, it's Power jacked up on Chainsaw Man flesh, but wow.

Makima gets the HOT TAG and she's a HOUSE OF FIRE, but it doesn't take long for Makima to take back the initiative.

She summons zombies to attack and I guess Makima was in control of the Zombie Devil too? All I know is that I don't like what that one zombie is doing near Makima's crotch.

Soon, the tide turns against Power, and Makima commands her to surrender Chainsaw Man to her. Power... agrees immediately. Aw, you let Pochita down! Or did she?

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Raiden Ei or The Shogun, or maybe both :3 with prompt 10 for the srping event

“I like the way your hand fits in mine”

characters: Ei x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I decided to finally write something for my spring event. Sorry it took me so long, but school and Star rail made me forget genshin for a while.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Ei

There were many things about Inazuma’s archon you failed to understand no matter how much you thought about it. How readily she gave up any quarrel the two of you had once you brought sweets into the conversation, how she decided when to relinquish control over her body and let the shogun take over and why she liked holding your hand as much as she did.

Admittedly, there were more important questions one might have about the Archon of Inazuma, but you were never one to care about the details of gouvernance or other… important stuff.

You had long forgotten how long you were sitting next to the Raiden Shogun, trying to make time pass as quickly as you could while she was filling out papers with one hand, while holding your hand in the other, not letting you go no matter what. The more realistic part of your brain told you you were here for only about 10 to 15 minutes, although you couldn’t help but feel like you had been sitting still for centuries.

While the Raiden Shogun was nice to you, at least as nice as a puppet designed to strictly follow orders, her conversational skills were… rather lacking, something that made you miss Ei even more while she was gone.

“Hey Raiden, do you-”, you began talking, only to be immediately cut off by the Shogun.

“Raiden Shogun.”

“Exactly, Raiden Shogun”, you corrected yourself with a nod, trying your hardest to contain the sigh threatening to come out of your mouth. “Anyway, do you know when Ei comes back?”, you asked with a smile, causing the puppet to shake her head without looking away from the papers. “Such a shame, I wanted to go visit the new sweets shop with her today, I hope it doesn’t close soon”, you muttered to yourself, just loud enough for them to understand your words.

Just as the words left your mouth, the other person's head turned towards you, an excited smile signaling that Raiden Shogun was no longer there, although her grip on your hand didn’t weaken in the slightest.

“Work can wait for a bit, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”, she asked before quickly putting away her pencil and standing up from her seat, ready to leave as soon as possible.

As you tried to signal the direction the stall was in however, you got a quick reminder that your prominent hand was still occupied, causing you to stare at it for a small moment as an “important” question crossed your mind.

“Why do you like holding my hand this much?”, you asked while looking back up at her, only for Ei to answer without any hesitation.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine”, while you could have asked for more clarification it was clear to you that this was all the answers you’d get from her, especially when her mind was preoccupied with something else.

Almost instantly, she started moving again, dragging you along with her as quickly as she could without looking undignified, making it seem as if you had never asked a question in the first place.

[osteoptimist]

About two months after I graduated from college, my friends and I finished a 2 year campaign of D&D 5e that went for 42 sessions.

It was amazing. I'm super proud of all of them, it was a fucking blast, and I still consider it one of the greatest artistic accomplishments of my life.

After the finale, we had an epilogue session where we met at a local fantasy themed tavern and talked about the whole thing. I answered some questions about loose threads and unsolved mysteries, and we discussed what their characters and some of the NPCs might get up to in the aftermath. Good fun.

I also told them that it was my intention to never run D&D again.

They were all understandably a little confused. Hadn't we just had an amazing time playing D&D?

And so I explained that yes, while we had lots of fun playing D&D, almost none of that fun was derived from D&D itself.

We had fun because we were all friends hanging out, telling a story together, getting to share a world and see these characters change the lives of each other and the people around them. None of that is unique to D&D, and D&D is actually worse for facilitating some of the things we had the most fun with than a lot of other games!

Moreover, I know D&D 5e about as well as someone reasonably can. I've written a massive amount of homebrew for the game, a lot of which we were able to seamlessly integrate into the campaign. I've written two classes, hundreds of spells and magic items, dozens of subclasses, and with a handful of exceptions nearly every monster they fought in that campaign had a statblock I modified or wrote from scratch.

And so by the end of that campaign, I could see exactly how it was holding me, and my players, back from what we might be able to do in a system more conducive to the kinds of stories we wanted to tell.

I love big setpiece fights that drive an overarching plot, intense social encounters with complex NPCs, and stories that shape the people in them as much as they are shaped in turn.

Now, it might sound like I just described a bunch of things DND is great for! But DND doesn't help me make any of that happen, at best it has nothing to say on the subject and at worst the system is actively working against me.

I also like to play other games, since those aren't the only kinds of stories I like to tell, and I enjoy learning new games and gaining new perspectives on how to use TTRPGs to tell stories in the first place.

Currently I think my next "main" game is going to be Draw Steel by MCDM. It is designed with the express purpose of facilitating all the things I mentioned loving above, and it isn't being weighed down by any of the legacy ideas that make a D&D game a D&D game but now mostly just get in the way.

Anyways, I say all this as someone who has poured countless hours into 5e, there really is so much to gain by branching out. I heartily recommend trying some new games with your group, and spending some time to really figure out what you want from your time at the table and which games are the best to help you do that. If that's DND, great! But even if that's the game you end up coming back to, you WILL be a better player and GM for having tried.

[mirrored-movements]

Go with the Flow

(Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

Synopsis: What happens when you're stuck in another dimension with someone calling you their mom and someone else calling you their wife? You certainly recognized him- but he wasn't your Miguel.

Warnings: None, honestly had no clue where this was going Tbh

Getting spit out of the portal in some random alleyway wasn’t exactly ideal-but worse things have happened, such as the damage done to your dimensional travel watch.

For them being designed by scientists they weren’t as durable as you’d hoped, the item currently glitching out hindering your ability to open a portal and or contact anyone.

Great.

With a disgruntled sigh your mask deactivated, the nanotech retreating away. The rest of your suit quickly shifted into civilian clothes, your fingers still trying feebaly to activate something.

At least you weren’t glitching out. That was the only plus side you could see at the moment besides having been thrown into a vacant alleyway- you didn’t even know what dimension you’d landed in.

Grumbling some more under your breath you turned on your heel, regardless of whether or not you were stranded there had to be something you could do- to either get back or get into contact with someone who could then possibly bring you back.

Stepping out of the alleyway your eyes took in the city; it was reminiscent of classic New York, no flying cars, futuristic outfits, people looked relatively normal- you’d say you ended up somewhere similar to Peters or Gwens dimension.

Continuing to wonder around you’d occasionally peer down at your watch, hope flickering like a flame whenever a phantom vibration happened only for that feeling to become snuffed out as nothing new flashed across the screen.

It was times like this where you’d regretted not asking to partner up- especially when there were a few who’d often offer their assistance.

You could handle it, was always the answer you gave then.

So much for that.

Not only was there an anomaly running around in some other dimension but you were stuck here, for an undefined amount of time.

Lovely.

Finding yourself coming across a store that sold TV’s your eyes scanned across the lit screen, the news currently covering what was described as ‘a vigilante hero’- or what you were more familiar with, ‘a spider variant.’ 

Who it was? You dodn’t know, nor did you recognize leading you to assume they weren’t appart of the spider-society- little bit of a bummer there seeing as you couldn’t just find them for help. Not like you knew where they were anyways.

The hairs on the back of your neck raised.

“Mom!” Your head twisted to the side at the sound of a childs voice, heart skipping a beat for a second as a small form quickly bounded your way. The little girls arms quickly moving to wind around you all the while her face pressed into the stomach of your sweater. “We thought you were working today?”

Her head tilted up, (E/C) hues staring wonderously up at you while unruly brown locks surrounded her tanned face. There was something about her that had your brain buzzing, something familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.

Hovering your hands over the girls back you felt unsure of what to do; clearly there was a variant of yourself in this dimension that had a kid and now that kid is currently mistaking you for them.

“Uh I was, but they let me off early.” Finally deciding to speak you let out an awkward laugh, one hand moving to pat the girls shoulder gently.

Her expression seemed to lighten up at your words, the little girl beginning to bounce in place nearly shaking you back and forth from the motion. “Really? Then that means you can come to the part with us!”

Us?

“Ella, give your mom some space.” 

Your head tilted up at the new yet familiar voice, eyes following the tall frame of a familiar brunette. His frame dawned a simple pair of jeans and hoodie, eyes appearing more brown than the wine tinted ones you were usually familiar with; extended canines missing from the mans smile.

Your heart fluttered lightly, mind almost mistaking this man as the one you were close with- however that was anything but the truth.

He was Miguel but he wasn’t the Miguel you knew.

The girl, or Ella as you’ve come to learn her name pulled away. Lips still pulled into a gleeful smile as she instead moved to grasp your hand in her own. The action just as quick as the man nearing enough to throw an arm over your shoulder, lips pressing a quick peck to your cheek despite the clear way your shoulder’s tensed up.

Noting this he passed you a worries glance, hand squeezing your shoulder softly in an almost reassuring manner, gradually pulling you and Ella along the sidewalk. “Everything alright at work mi vida?”

Swallowing down the butterflies that quickly flittered about within your stomach you reminded yourself that this was your variants life, this was a different dimension and everyone here was a different variant.

Willing yourself to smile you glanced towards him, “Just the usual, coworkers and the system and stuff.” Beginning with that you added on quickly trying to figure out what the other ‘you’ would answer with- or rather what was something generic enough that it could fly beneath anyones radar. “The coffee machine was down so I’m a bit tired.”

His head tilted at this, mouth opening. “But you don’t like coffee?”

Shit.

“Oh well I mean my coworkers were upset about it so I had to deal with a lot of cranky people,” You forced a laugh, “You know how some people can be without their caffeine.”

“Dad’s cranky without coffee.” Piping in from where she stood beside you Ella let out a laugh, her mind presumably associating that thought with another. “Remember when you hid all the coffee when he forgot your birthday? That was so funny.”

“I didn’t forget it,” His arm dropped from your shoulder and instead tenderly held your other hand. “I was just planning a surprise party.”

Ella didn’t seem to believe it and just stuck out her tongue, the man doing the same.

It was strange really; this wasn’t your dimension and despite how close you felt with your Miguel- this one wasn’t yours, and Ella wasn’t your child. However at the moment, you felt a little obligated to act along- for the sake of your own variant of course.

“And how did that surprise party go?”

Lighting up at the tone you’d used Ella giggled. “Bad! Super bad!”

“It wasn’t!” He tried to defend himself quickly but at the insistence of his daughter and the tender smile that crept across your face he yielded quickly. Just simply shaking his head with a gentle laugh.

After a little more banter- some you tried to join in on- you all eventually arrived at the park, quickly finding yourself pushing Ella on one of the swings. The other Miguel watching from the side as he leaned against the structures support beams.

Sparing him a quick glance your eyes snapped away at the payful wink he’d given you- your Miguel would rather roll his eyes than wink if you so much as breathed in his direction. Albeit he was still kind but in a tough love kind of sense.

Ending up spending awhile at the park playing various little games, you began to dread the next one. Especially considering it was apparently something that the other ‘you’ had made up and it’d be a major red flag if the current you didn’t remember it.

However your saving grace came in the form of the other Miguel’s phone ringing, his lips downturning softly before curling back up. “Looks like work needs me.” His tone was apologetic, arms coming right away to give Ella a quick hug as she ran over. His attention moving onto you as you neared, the mans arms enveloping you much like he had with his daughter.

There was an unfamiliarity to the action, but you just patted the back of his sweater lightly hoping that that’d suffice. “I should be back home in the morning. Okay mi vita?”

“Yeah that’s fine, do what you need to do.” A boxy smile had come to rest across your lips, cheeks heating up as he once again gave them a quick peck following it up with an adoring smile.

He must really love the ‘you’ of this world.

“Be good for mom,” Patting Ella’s head he ruffled her hair quickly, adding on once more before walking off. “Stinker.”

Right away calling out playful insults in response the little girl shook her head, attention moving back to you while she began insisting that you push her on the swings a few more times before leaving.

Now, you would have been fine watching over Ella for an hour or so by yourself, but having to find ‘your’ house? That was a much much different story- it was like a needle in a haystack and the only way you did end up finding the place was because you turned it into a game, having the small girl guide you the entire way there- as well as unlock the front door via a keypad.

“You’re so funny mom.” Watching you open and close all the cabinets Ella let out a laugh, the bowl of mac’n cheese sitting before her was left untouched as you searched through the kitchen for where the cutlery was stored. 

Finally finding where it was kept you gave yourself a mental high-five, handing over the girls desired utensil before leaning back against the counter.

Being a fake mom was hard.

Trying to take a moment to compose yourself your ears picked up the sound of the front door opening, heart rate picking up a little at the prospect of it being your other variant however when another figure stepped in did you pause.

“Dad’s back!” Sliding off of the stood she sat on Ella right away bolted towards the man, her small arms wrapping around him quickly.

However much like you had earlier in the day, he didn’t return it right away. Instead his gaze flickered up to you, (E/C) hues meeting with wine tinted hues.

Your heart fluttered.

“Yeah I’m back kiddo,” His eyes drifted back down to the girl then back up to you as if trying to signify an unspoken question.

Pushing away from the counter seeing that Ella had released the man you couldn’t help but give him a hug of your own- but in relief and to keep up the act for her. “How was work? Didn’t seem like they needed you for that long?”

Picking up on the implication Miguel allowed his own arms to wrap around you, “It was just for a bit, but I might have to head back soon.”

Nodding to signify your understanding you both parted from the intimate gesture; Ella right away making it apparent on what time it was with a loud yawn.

“Looks like somebody’s tired.”

“No I’m-” Her defense was interrupted by another yawn, you right away taking this as your chance to bring her towards where you discovered her room was earlier. “Wait, I want dad to tuck me in today.”

At the mention of that your head turned back towards where Miguel stood stiffly, his mouth opening to decline before seeing the way you stared.

Sucking in a breath he moved to take the small girls shoulder from you, the facade of a caring parent taking over as he’d disappeared into the hallway. “Right of course, lets get you to bed then.”

Now knowing that this was the Miguel you knew, you waited anxiously for his return to the livingroom. You almost instinctually coming to hug the man once again as he emerged from the hallway minutes later.

“It’s so good to see an actual familiar face- you wouldn’t believe the day I had.” Muffling that out into the shirt of his civilian clothes you basked in his presence for a second, mind somehow blocking out the embarrassment until you’d pulled away. An apologetic yet flustered smile made it’s way onto your lips. “Uh sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Shaking his head while saying that he took in a breath. “I’m glad youre alright,” Holding out a hand he motioned towards the wrist containing your watch, the device being raised enough for him to view the damage. “I wasn’t able to find you sooner because of the damage done, so I had to get Lyla to run your signature through the system.”

“Well, better late than never. I felt like I was playing house here.” Although you meant it as a joke, the domestic theme of the day made you a little melancholic- knowing that normality was something you’d never have the luxury of having. “Well, was playing house.”

“You seemed into it though.” 

At the comment you gave him a look, the man unable to let out a mix between a chuckle and laugh. “Anyways. We should get going. Any longer here and we might cause a disturbance.”

“Wait- we can’t just leave her alone in the house? What kind of fake parents would we be?”

Upon mentioning the girl, Miguel let out a short huff. “Well, what do you have in mind then?”

“We wait for the other me to come home, and then you’ll get a ‘call from work.”

Pondering over the suggestion he wanted to decline right away, the thought of impersonating someone again left a bad taste in his mouth-however the paternal instincts deep within told him to just listen.

Which is what you both did.

Your variant came home about an hour later, her expression bidding Miguel a tired greeting followed by a peck on the cheek before merely heading to bed.

A little easier than you thought it was going to be. But hey, now you two could leave that place.

You never knew how much you missed HQ until the smooth walls and floors welcomed you, the glowing yellow screens of Miguel’s workplace and the holographic form of Lyla were comforting- especially once the Ai began chatting aimlessly.

The conversation halting as Miguel spoke up from where he leaned over a desk, “I didn’t know a dimension like that existed.” It was as though his brain took a step back from processing things then they were happening, the man thinking back to his late daughter and then the daughter he’d just met.

She had the perfect mix of the both of you- (E/C) hues and brown hair, your nose and his smile.

“I didn’t know either until I landed there,” Musing that out you let out a sigh. “She was cute right?”

Casting his gaze back at where you sat his lips tilted up softly, “She was.”

“She definitely got it from her mom.”

You were stunned at this, mouth falling open before closing. Eyes rolling faintly in response however without verbally saying anything he took that as a win.

Moving away from his desk he trailed towards where you sat, hand coming to brush some of your hair aside nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head- a gesture you were familiar with.

This was your Miguel after all.

Humming lowly he pecked for head, lips murmuring against it afterwards.

“We should think about it.”

“We should.”

----------------------

<Unedited>

Can you tell I like dad Miguel?

[pigeon-gryphon]

A kinda long vent about a few different things

The appeal of art styles is subjective. If you regularly practice the skills you want, you will improve. It’s the curse of nearly all creatives to never be fully satisfied with their own work, but you can still shoot for the moon and land among the stars, and so on

I know all this and yet I cannot fully believe it about my own work. Before I went to college for graphic design, I did art a lot more frequently. At first I just drew various dolphin species, obsessively, for the hell of it. But then I was in art RP groups for a few years, in which you and your character need to be charismatic to get to do much in depth RP. And unfortunately, I was socially inept and allergic to making my characters conventionally attractive. Though, in all the RP groups, my characters and I were initially welcomed enthusiastically, but then over time, people got increasingly cold toward me and some others, and I'd be left trying to guess what exactly went wrong. I'd spend a year trying to impress the fellow RPers with my art and stories, and trying to be encouraging about their works, hoping to charm them into playing dolls with me. Then I'd give up, rinse and repeat with another RP group for a year.

But anyways- I was at least able to apply fundamentals of what I’d learned from hobby work, to college work. And I can still enjoy the process of actually doing these things, I mainly get discouraged by the end results. And probably 'cause of that discouragement, I have a hard time motivating myself to get going with either hobby stuff, or new portfolio pieces anymore. I feel like none of my preexisting college work is good enough to get a job, ‘cause no one will respond at all, just radio silence. I get paranoid that all my past, present and future visual works, whether formal or hobby, are objectively mediocre, even though that’s nonsense, and I wouldn’t think such a cruel, irrational thing about anyone else’s work.

I’ve been heavily considering going to college for programming. I find programming fascinating, I think it could pair well with graphic design, and I’d like to try being a solo indie game dev someday. But if you want to get a job in either graphic design or programming, you gotta really stand out. I’ve had many art accounts, and I’ve never been able to stand out, even back while I was more active. I hate competitions of any kind. Everyone should have an equal chance of surviving, we shouldn’t have to compete in any way just for a chance at basic life necessities.

Maybe I shouldn’t have gone into graphic design. But now that I have the degree, it feels like it would be a waste of time and money not to do something with it. Even if I find motive to hone my skills, what if it kills my chances of learning to just humbly enjoying making hobby art. Getting the feeling that everything I do should be “extraordinary”. But honestly, the art RP groups already damaged me.

What if going into programming is also a mistake? Although it’s just two more years in college (as opposed to three years for graphic design), it could be a waste of yet more time and money if I fail to do something with this, too. But I don’t know what else to do, I’ve researched all kinds of jobs and it’s so hard to know what I might be capable of doing decently, while also having at least a slight chance of getting a job. So many fields have low chances of getting work.

I know that there’s technically no time limit on many things in life. But I’m sick of having no income of my own. So many things in life require money. Thanks to gst cheques, I can at least afford care for a few small pets, and getting the occasional already-cheap indie game on heavy discount. But not much else.

One of the biggest things I long for is the chance to finally start dating. But it feels like a really bad idea to try to get into a serious relationship without an income. Either people will keep looking for someone who can help earn money, or you end up dangerously dependent. Also, I’m not as androgynous as I’d like to be yet. I could save up to get things to help with that, like a binder, but I’m too scared while I’m stuck living with my queerphobic parents. Last year, I got my hair cut shorter, and a side shave that can be covered at times when it’s best not to look too alt. And my mom initially said it looked nice, but then later (according to my sibling) called me a dyke behind my back. Which I wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t said by someone so allocishet, in a negative context. And I’d like to try cutting it even shorter someday, but although they probably wouldn’t kick me out for being too openly queer, I’m a cowardly crybaby afraid of confrontation, so I don’t want to go too far until I finally get to live elsewhere. Plus, I want to date queer people, and I wouldn’t want to risk my parents being shitty to them.

But after years of longing to be held by some person my age, I get impatient and frustrated sometimes. I wish I didn’t have to jump through so many hoops to finally get an income first. I wish I could just hold someone’s hands and we can forage for free food in the wilderness that doesn’t belong to anyone. And then I doodle crap, and I don’t lose the joy of creating after it’s done, ‘cause I’d finally be free of any want or need for external validation. If only.

As things are, I can only try to crumble into complete, incapacitating mental illness. Therapy might be worth a try if it wasn't yet another expensive thing. Plus, my dad's a therapist, so if I got therapy while living with my family, I'd have to be very discreet about it, especially if it was a local therapist. 'Cause I know my parents would be offended that I won't just talk to them, and might even accuse me of sabotaging my dad's business. But I've tried free helplines, but they're either mediocre, or make me afraid of being forcibly institutionalized. I could get some kind of medication, 'cause any potential side effects couldn't be worse than what I already go through. But if my family found out, they'd be really judgy, 'cause they're biased against psychiatric drugs. I need to figure out how I should try changing my life soon, though, 'cause I can't stand the lonely rotting anymore.

[adaobiiii]

─────── Gaming Saturday ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Prompt : Every Saturday, Marinette, Lila, and Chloe relax with their beloved Gaming Saturdays. A time to relax, laugh, and (sometimes wreak virtual havoc). While Marinette and Chloe attempt to design the perfect Bloxburg mansion, Lila has other plans: scamming unsuspecting kids and gaslighting them into financial ruin.

Pairing : Marinette x Chloe x Lila (PLATONIC!!!!!)

Warnings : None, Fluff, non-magic!au

A/N : So in this au the three girls are best friends who just had some issues in the past (no major bullying or anything of that sort) They all helped each other get better but still have their moments. Lila's favourite form of releasing her anger is bullying children on roblox (Please pretend this is how bloxburg works)

Home ||  Main Masterlist || MLB Masterlist

"Alright, what are we playing today?" Marinette asked, crisscrossing her legs on Lila’s plush bean bag chair. "Something calm? Maybe Stardew Valley? We could build a cute farm together!" she beamed, pulling out her iPad.

"Boring," Chloe drawled, lying dramatically across the bed, her arms draped over her face like a 19th-century woman in distress. "Marinette, please. I came here to win. I came here to dominate. I came here to—"

"Commit virtual crimes?" Lila cut in, already logging into Roblox with a wicked grin.

"Exactly!" Chloe quickly sat up, suddenly interested. "Wait, what game are you opening?"

Marinette moved closed, standing behind the two girls and squinting at the screen. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Lila, tell me you're not going to bully kids again."

Lila, still grinning, adjusted her headset. "It's free therapy. I can't afford a real therapist, so this is the next best thing."

"You can afford therapy, you just don't want to go," Marinette deadpanned as she opened the life-simulator game, sitting back on the bean bag.

"Same thing. Anyway, welcome to Bloxburg. I’m about to emotionally devastate some eight-year-olds."

Chloe peered over Lila’s shoulder as she editted her avatar: a suspiciously perfect girl with impossibly shiny hair and a designer outfit that absolutely did not belong in a kid's game. "Why does your character look like a billionaire influencer?"

"Because I want them to know they can never reach my level." Lila smirked and entered the game. "Also because I spent like 200 dollars on roblox…. Anyways, let’s see who I can ruin today."

"Oh my gosh," Marinette groaned, rubbing her temples.

Within minutes, Lila had inserted herself into a rich roleplayer’s mansion and convinced a small child to "adopt" her. Five minutes after that, she had maxed out their in-game credit card, crashed their virtual car into a river, and was currently gaslighting them into believing it was their fault.

Meanwhile, in a much more peaceful corner of Bloxburg, Marinette and Chloe were hard at work decorating their shared in-game house. Chloe had insisted on an over-the-top, luxurious mansion, while Marinette tried to add cozy and more practical elements.

"Chloe, we do not need a gold-plated bathtub," Marinette huffed, rotating a small plant in the virtual living room.

"Yes, we do. It’s called taste, Marinette. Look it up," Chloe retorted, placing yet another chandelier.

Marinette sighed, shaking her head as she adjusted the kitchen counters. "Fine, but if this turns into an actual palace, I’m making a bakery next door."

"As long as I get free croissants, deal."

Just as Marinette was about to add pastel wallpaper to the hallway, a loud, familiar shriek interrupted her thoughts.

"No, Timmy, listen. You gave me the money. I was just trying to buy us a nice house! How was I supposed to know you’d have to restart your whole save file?" the brunette typed quickly into the chat box.

"Lila!" Marinette shrieked, watching in horror from her own screen as the tiny avatar started sobbing in the chat.

Chloe, meanwhile, was cackling. "You’re a menace! I LOVE IT."

"I prefer the term 'agent of chaos.'" Lila flipped her hair and accepted another in-game donation from an unsuspecting player. "Ooh, more money. Thanks, Alexis, you’re a real one."

"Lila, you're running a literal pyramid scheme on a game for CHILDREN," Marinette cried, while Chloe wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

"It's better than when I was running one in school" she shrugged, a smirk on her face as she continued to coerce the poor unknowing child to donate more.

"You have to respect the hustle," Chloe wheezed.

"Timmy is still crying!"

Lila sighed and typed, it's okay Timmy, think of this as a life lesson before abandoning the game completely.

"You're a horrible person," Marinette groaned, but she was laughing now too.

"Thank you." Lila beamed. "Now, who's up for running Adopt Me?"

[wanderingmind867]

Paul Kupperberg did, what, 17 issues of the Doom Patrol before killing off most of his own characters? I raise him one better. I can at least plot out 20 issues, and I can have none of the Doom Patrol members die. So while i'm at school waiting for class to start, i'm gonna start planning this out:

Issues #1-2: I'd have this be a two parter, and I'd have it keep the same general concept as Paul Kupperberg's Doom Patrol storyline. In issue one, we watch as Arani goes to the remains of the caribbean island where the original Doom Patrol died, and she discovers proof that the original members of the Doom Patrol might still be alive. Larry's bandages, Rita's headband and Niles' Wheelchair were all floating in the waters. This makes her deeply suspicious, so she decides to investigate the bottom of the island for a closer look. Then she falls into a trap, and part one ends with her having to call the other members of the Doom Patrol for help.

Cliff, Josh and Valentina receive her signal, and they rush to the caribbean to rescue Arani. It turns out she fell into a trap laid by Niles. Back when Niles first set up his secondary headquarters on this island, he built a series of deathtraps to protect himself and his allies from enemies. Turns out the traps still work, and they're now being used against the Doom Patrol (the group they were initially designed to protect). So the Doom Patrol have to break free of The Chief's old traps.

But once they have, they see the floating debris Arani found floating in the water earlier. And that's when they all realize: the original members of the Doom Patrol might still be alive, somewhere. But where? And how to find them? Those are the questions at hand…

Issues #3-4: Following up on the only lead they still have, the Doom Patrol realizes that they have to find Madame Rouge and General Zahl; to interrogate them on the events of many years past. But in order to find them, they're gonna need some help. Which means the re-entrance of Mento (Steve Dayton), who's absolutely ecstatic that his wife might still be alive somewhere. After she died, he lost all the humility she helped him to gain. Now he's a washed up, deeply bitter man. And only the news of her possible survival is enough to pull him out of his slump.

Anyways, he uses his wealth and connections to help the New Doom Patrol locate Madame Rouge and General Zahl. From there, it's all a simple matter of infiltrating their new hideout and getting them to tell them everything they know. But of course, nothing ever goes according to plan. They manage to find and fight their way to Madame Rouge and the General, and they do manage to learn that they barely recall the events of that night. It's all a blur to them, almost as though someone was dictating their actions…

But before either of them can say any more on the subject, General Zahl drops dead from a heart attack, and Madame Rouge turns into mist and fades away in front of their very eyes. Nobody knows what's going on, but they realize they have to flee before anyone gets suspicious of them and thinks they killed these people. So they flee in a helicopter and begin heading back to the US.

In case anyone was wondering what did happen to Zahl and Rouge, by the way: it's Mister Nobody. He used these two as pawns to strike back at the Doom Patrol years ago, and he can't have them leaking his secrets. So he used his powers to kill Zahl and abduct Rouge. And now he realizes the Doom Patrol is slowly figuring out the truth, too. They're so close to finding his trail. So now he has to deal with them…

Issue #5: Mister Nobody needs to get rid of the Doom Patrol fast, and he's found a very weak willed pawn, capable of doing exactly what he needs. Specifically, he manages to use his sanity draining powers to short circuit Mento's helmet, and make him think the New Doom Patrol are the ones who actually killed Rita, Larry and The Chief. Now that the insane but powerful delusion has been placed into his brain, Mento turns on them and starts using his strength and his telekinetic helmet to try and force the others out of the helicopter.

A struggle ensues, a violent struggle on the very thin battleground that is the helicopter. And as can be expected from a battle in the skies over the atlantic ocean, it goes very poorly for our heroes. Mento successfully manages to push them off the helicopter, and then he flies back to his estate on the mainland, all alone. In the meantime, Cliff, Valentina, Josh and Arani all fall into the ocean; hitting the water hard enough to knock all of them unconscious (besides cliff, who was powered down by mento's helmet). And then they drift out to sea, all in different directions…

[fairykazu]

never be the one to lose - same side of the same coin༉‧₊˚.

EONS ADRIFT: scaramouche x gn! reader

masterlist

you have been thinking for a while. that even though you know he returned your feelings, and you’ve noticed when he looks at you differently. not a murderous glint he usually has and certainly not, the annoyed look he always gave you when you pester him. but you can’t bring yourself to point it out because then everything would change. your content for the relationship you has with scaramouche anyway. even so, you would be shunned in your family for dating someone in the fatui. not just someone, the sixth fatui harbinger.

you experienced a bunch of love before. platonic, attraction and familial. but romantic? you have never experienced it right. not sure why but maybe your parents’ treatment of you is to blame. but when you befriended scaramouche, it is as if your brain chemistry was changed. not exactly changed. just different than you've ever known.

but scaramouche was able to slither the cracks of your heart. even though you had plenty of lovers before, none of them were able to go beyond the surface. beyond the bubbly performance you played and they always leave when your facade’s curtains close. they only enjoyed the show, never the actor.

you’re sure that scaramouche has experienced more than you with decades of experience behind him. you only have roughly twenty years. he must have known someone better than you. in every way. you prayed that he would stop loving you and move on. he deserves someone so much better than someone so insecure. insecure of the way they love.

he has big dreams of being a god, but he hasn’t told you the reason why he wanted to be a god. he’s immortal, isn’t he? wouldn’t that be enough? if you were immortal, you would try to make the best of it but then again, you think you wouldn’t make it if you’re immortal. seeing everyone die around you– you winced. yeah, no. if his feelings or your feelings developed into something more, something established. you’ll never know how it would even happen or work. therefore, you will never be the one to confess nor will he.

but he’s in your lap, sleeping blissfully. you might’ve broken down his walls, but he hasn’t to you. you tucked a strand of hair behind his ear as he shifted in his sleep. you smiled as he tucked himself closer to you. maybe trying to get more warmth from you. reaching from the other side of the couch, you pulled a teal blanket over him. it's a blanket you bought for home, but it became the designated scaramouche blanket whenever he came over. wait, isn’t this the opposite of what i intended to do? you paused.

you tried to convince yourself, but it was hardly working anymore. no, it’s not me indulging. this is platonic. as you stated before, you're incapable of loving and scaramouche is lightyears beyond you. as a god or whatever being, he wanted to be. you're unable to assist him or anything he want in that nearby future. but as you looked at his lips, thumb hovering above it. before your train of thoughts could reach you, you swiped on his lips. yep... so platonic. scaramouche shifted in your lap as his eyes fluttered open, “what happened?” his hand lingered on his lip as you looked the other direction.

he tugged the blanket over him more so you could only see his purple irises looking at you. “there was a fly on your lip. i tried to get it off.” you tried to persuade him with your weak excuse. even though, the twitch on his brow showed that he knew you were lying. he didn’t say anything about it,

his voice muffled due to the blanket over him. “okay, just shoo it off next time." the sixth harbinger laid asleep on your lap like as if he was a housecat. not a murderer who has slaughtered millions. not that you mind though. he needs mora, right? the alarming thoughts of you crossing the promise you made to yourself came back. you tried to soothe yourself as scaramouche's hand was placed over yours. as if he knew this would happen. like how you tried to persuade scaramouche with a weak excuse, you tried to excuse yourself with your own.

i’m not indulging in this. you told yourself.

but as always, you were lying every time.