#i say this constantly but he’s just!!!! so weird. beloved. need to observe him like a bug in a terrarium or something

[ectoplasmer]

"he prefers games to girls by far" siiigh don't they all…

[sixeyescurseuser]

part 2

“Satoru? What color are your eyes?” Geto asks one day, when they’re sprawled on the couch together. Gojo’s head is pillowed on Geto’s chest, where the snakes happily nestle in Gojo’s fluffy hair. 

“Hm, blue.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Geto is silent for a long moment. 

“I bet they’re magnificent,” Geto says, then startles when Gojo lifts up slightly, one hand tugging underneath the blindfold. “Satoru, whatever you’re planning to do, stop it.”

“Darling, I’ll keep my eyes closed, I promise,” Gojo solemnly swears. He waits until Geto gives his consent before lifting the blindfold off, diligently keeping his eyes glued shut.

Geto observes the shape of his lover’s closed lids, how his eyes contribute to his facial structure, and the white color of his lashes. 

“Pretty, right?”

Geto nods. “Hn.”

Geto still doesn’t trust himself without the trusty barrier of the blindfold.

Thus, he brings a hand up to cover Gojo’s closed eyes, and leans in for a kiss.

***

Gojo buys Geto a pair of his own special-grade glasses that block Geto’s entire field of vision, ensuring he can see perfectly fine while others will never make direct eye contact with him. 

It’s certainly an adjustment for Geto because the glasses, shaped like visors, feel very restricting. His snakes hiss at the glasses because they don’t don’t like not being able to see Geto’s eyes. 

But the glasses do give Geto more confidence in leaving the cottage to prevent him from freezing any innocent bypassers. 

***

Once, when Geto is out on his own, he spots a couple kids wearing the same style uniform as Gojo often does. Jujutsu Tech!

Geto decides to watch over them. 

Thank fucking god he did, because there’s no way in hell whoever the fuck is in charge just let these kids walk straight into a curse’s domain. 

Before Yuji switches with Sukuna, Geto intercepts and annihilates the other special grade, even without the powers of his eyes. Once the job is done, Yuji jogs up to his side.

Yuji: “Hey, thank you so much-GAH?“

At the speed of light, Geto pulls Yuji out of the crumbling domain and disappears.

The first years are completely bamboozled by what happened!

(Yuji: “Gojo-sensei, that special curse showed up again today! Well it didn’t need to help because Kugisaki and Fushiguro and I had everything handled, but I could feel it watching. Isn’t that weird?”

Gojo: “Huh, that is strange indeed.”)

Afterward, Geto presents Sukuna’s finger to Gojo. Gojo realizes Geto was looking after his students, and falls even deeper in love with him. 

***

Yuuta learned early on who Geto was because once Geto was watching over him but Rika was not having it! 😭

She was like “Who is this beetch?” and tries to off Geto, who flees and never looks back. 

The snakes want to pick a fight with Rika so badly, but Geto has to shush them because he’s not sure even HE could take on this kid’s curse. 

Also, Geto is technically supposed to be exorcized. That’s what Gojo told the higher-ups, that he had successfully defeated the infamous curse Geto Suguru. 

Gojo has to do damage control, of course. 

“You have Rika, and I have Suguru,” Gojo says with a shrug. “Simple as that.”

Beside him, Geto’s jaw drops open from the total lack of explanation by the fool that owns his heart. From behind his glasses, Geto pities the way the wheels furiously turn in Yuuta’s mind. 

Rika pops out jus to growl at Geto. 

Great. Good talk everyone. 

Yuuta: “You’re telling me you’re in love with THE special grade, Geto Suguru, who’s been alive for centuries and has been constantly compared to the king of curses, SUKUNA??”

Gojo gives him a thumbs up while Geto smiles with sharp teeth. 

***

Gojo Satoru is known as the strongest sorcerer alive, but that doesn’t stop Geto from being incredibly protective of him. While out on a date, Geto brings up the higher ups that clearly do not give a shit about overworking his beloved.

“Say the word and I’ll kill them.”

“I thought you didn't like killing?” Gojo asks with a cheeky smile. He takes a sip of his milkshake, then bumps his foot against Geto’s under the table. 

“Satoru, I’m a curse and they are assholes. It’s the natural order of things,” Geto sniffs. His snakes hiss in agreement, very excited at the prospect of killing for Gojo. 

Gojo extends his hand out, palm facing up. Geto slides his hand on top. Interlocking their fingers, Gojo conveys all the adoration he can through his uncovered eyes, hoping it penetrates through the special-grade glasses Geto wears.

“I love you too. My one and only.”

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@chillin-at-partys-bar

Ikkaku had a strong sense that the well-meaning advice she was offering had fallen on deaf ears. It was similar to when Law ignored her attempts to get him to sleep and eat properly. A person can only be helped when they want to be helped, and Ikkaku already knew this would be a losing battle.

But the engineer was stubborn and didn't always know when to quit. Plus, considering how she actually knew the guy Cherise was enamored with, she felt some obligation to at least try to get the other woman to see a little bit of sense, or at least have slightly more realistic expectations. For Zoro's sake more than hers.

"Uh, 'clear, strong sense of direction?' I hope you mean in the figurative sense and not the literal," Ikkaku replied, a sweatdrop hanging behind her head. "He and some of his crew traveled with mine for a bit and I can tell ya, the man couldn't follow direction for shit. Was constantly getting lost in my submarine." She couldn't help but chuckle in amusement. More than a few times Zoro had claimed Law was messing with him and moving parts of the ship around. While Law wasn't above messing with their allies, he absolutely had been innocent of that particular crime. "But he is a determined guy who knows what he wants in life, so you're right about that. Just...he doesn't know you, so you can't claim that you're what he wants just because you've got 'a feeling' or whatever."

Then came the shilling of merchandise, and Ikkaku could wholeheartedly confirm she was dealing with a fangirl. And fangirls, if Ikkaku's experience with some of Law's was anything to go by, were a field of landmines to deal with. So she'd need to tread carefully.

"Zoro's...an interesting guy. I'm at least invested in seeing him achieve his dream." After all, he'd been the one to help Ikkaku learn two-sword style so she could better protect her captain. She owed him a lot for that. Without him, she would have felt useless in the raid on Onigashima. She never wanted to feel that way again.

Cautiously, Ikkaku observed the earrings and coin purse. She could genuinely say that the craftsmanship was high-quality. Cherise likely had lots of practice. "I'll admit, that is a gorgeous necklace, and the coin purse is pretty adorable. And hell, I'll take a t-shirt. How much do you want for them?" An idea was already forming in her head. "My crew and I might cross paths with the Straw Hats again, so I can show them to your, ah, beloved so he'll know you're out there looking for him. Show him how strong your devotion is."

And warn him he's got a crazy fangirl out there, Ikkaku thought, sweating. Though, maybe he'd be into that? So hell, this could be the kind of weird love story she's imagining.

Two people staying faithfully in love despite time and fate pushing them apart? That sounded like the kind of love story she yearned for, and was one that she was busy making for herself. It also sounded like the love story her mother hand. Sailing around as a pirate while her father did… something, she wasn’t sure. She never met that man. But she was sure since they weren’t together that probably he was yearning for her again. Ouriana never yearned for others. Except for her, her daughter. Cherise knew that for a fact because her mother said it to her every time she came by with new little trinkets.

And when Cherise set sail herself she made sure to leave a lovely note for her mother detailing her former lover’s betrayal and her new quest. The quest to find her own happy ending whatever he may look like. Or she. Maybe. She had thought about that future for herself but she had a few requirements. Mostly that whomever it was had green hair and swords and a frightening scowl that spoke of someone with deeper thoughts.

The other woman was speaking some sort of advice about love, but Cherise was pretty sure she knew what she was doing. So while she was listening with her nods and her gentle ‘mhm’s’ her mind was relatively absent of thought. She knew plenty of being in love. And she also knew that being with someone constantly wasn’t an indicator of love either, as last time she had done such a thing she had ended up learning that there had hardly been any love at all – and the man she had thought she knew was no more a stranger than the man she now decided she loved.

“Why did I fall in love with him?” She thought a moment, that being really the only sentence she fully comprehended at the end of the other’s speech. “Hm, it’s just a feeling. You know?” And it wasn’t that she was going simply on her emotions. She had seen the way his bounty rose, the way the crew stayed in the news, the way people murmured about him, his reputation, how he was skyrocketing in a way that would make anyone proud to be his soulmate.

“It just seems he has a very clear, strong sense of direction.”

In his life, for his goals. She could admire that. But then it also brought up another important aspect. “And because of that he wouldn’t dare cheat on me. Never fall for a man who seems to not know what he wants. That’s my advice. Because while he might say he wants you he doesn’t and instead he wants the other and then he ends up without a leg and you have to go somewhere else.”

Really it was all so difficult.  

“But you sound as though you too have an interest in the swordsman?” That was not the same as cheating, nor was it sign of concern for her. People could admire other people. “I’ve got some things if you’d like.”

She pulled out from under her shirt’s neckline a golden chain. On it were three drooping golden charms with green gems, mimicking both the man’s earrings and his hair color. “This is my latest that I made. I’d part with it if you truly wish for it.” She then reached into her back pocket and took out a coin purse. On it a painted depiction of his face. “I have a few of these, I sell them quite often.” But her latest creation – a shirt with his bounty poster on it – was tucked away into the folds of her bed’s wrinkled comforter. So she had no sample to show, but surely the other would believe her. Why wouldn’t she? “I also have shirts I can part with.”

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2021

day 1- glances

title: I see you

summary: high school AU— they’re in the middle of biology class when Uchiha Sasuke realizes that there are way more interesting things that deserve his full attention. [Ao3] [ffnet]

.

.

.

He’s doing it again.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see as she eagerly writes down her notes on her biology book. She uses her small fingers to tug a stubborn strand of her pink hair that has been falling forward since first period, and he watches as the sunlight highlights her soft skin. An absent smile graces her lips, and he supposes it’s because she’s enjoying whatever it is that their teacher is saying. He hasn’t been paying attention to the class for a while now, his concentration completely switched to the girl sitting next to him. Last time he checked, though, they were discussing genetics. Or could it be fungus? He doesn’t know.

Lately, he’s been doing that a lot— the whole staring thing, that is. Though unaware, at first, now he knows exactly when his attention drifts towards her. It happens when he’s at ease or when anxiety is starting to grow inside him. When he’s calm and relaxed; or when he finds himself in need of a familiar face not to blow it all away.

Sakura has this effect on him. Even without really saying or doing anything, her sole presence is enough to warm his chest. It’s as natural as the clouds floating in the sky, and sometimes, when they’re not in the same room, he finds himself missing her figure. With her green eyes and pink hair, she has become a constant presence in his life, and if anything, Sasuke likes constant. Always has.

He also likes her, but that’s not been questioned right now.

He’s acknowledged his feelings for her for almost three months now, and he figures he’s still trying to get used to the idea of seeing her as more than just his best friend. It’s not that their relationship has changed that much from what it was before, but everything around her just feels different ever since Naruto pointed out the obvious. Sasuke has accepted this new side of him, and perhaps, the biggest change in his young life is the fact that he has to constantly remind himself that he no longer needs silly excuses to hide his feelings for her. He has to keep telling himself that it’s not an absurd for a boy like him to consider making a move in a girl like her. He can dare to reach out for her hand or— if he’s feeling bold enough, and the situation calls for it— kiss her lips.

It’s weird to even think about doing that to the girl who has been by his side since they were in dippers. She‘s still the same Sakura, but now that he has allowed himself to picture them together, she’s just different. He’s different, too, and he can’t really say he hates it. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And right now, while he’s still trapped in his thoughts, he also has to remind himself that staring at her is not as creepy as it would be if he was just a stranger.

It isn’t, right?

Perhaps he should stop, then. Or maybe—

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted as a folded piece of white paper shows up on his desk. He quirks his right brow in confusion, and without thinking twice, his eyes drift to Naruto because— well— who else would’ve thrown that at him in the middle of the class, right? However, much to his surprise, his blonde best friend couldn’t have done such a thing, no. He’s fast asleep on his desk across the classroom, and the Uchiha is almost sure he can see drool sliding down his open mouth.

That loser, he thinks. If he’s not going to pay attention to the class, he might as well try to pretend otherwise in order to avoid a future lecture. Maybe he really deserves it, after all.

Still, if the idiot didn’t throw the folded paper, then who did it?

He arcs his brows again, and before trying to reach another conclusion based solely on his speculations, Sasuke decides to read the hidden note. Carefully, then, he unfolds the paper, only to be surprised by the familiar and delicate handwriting in it.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the class?”

A smirk crosses his lips as he reads those words, and he knows he’s been busted. Dark eyes, then, turn to his right only to find green ones already staring back at him. She offers him a teasing smile, using her index finger to point towards the blackboard, to which he simply shrugs. Apparently, Sakura has caught him staring for a little too long, and if he were to be honest, he’s glad she did because now he has an excuse to silently flirt with her.

Now, he has an excuse to observe and to be observed by her emerald eyes.

If he had to pick, that’s probably one of his favorite activities of the day now that he has decided to build up some courage to make a move. He likes to tease her without using words just to see all of her unique reactions flourishing. He likes to see the many shades of red that tinge her cheeks whenever she’s embarrassed and the way she sometimes has to cover her mouth to suppress a loud laugh. He likes when she bites her lower lip whenever she’s thinking about something, and he sure as hell loves it when he sees one of her soft smiles slowly making its way up to her bright eyes.

She really is the cutest girl he knows. Not that he will ever admit that to her.

Without thinking twice then, he grabs his black pen and rips a piece of paper from his notebook. He scribbles around, folds it and expertly throws it so their secret lands on her desk. She spares him a knowing look before unfolding it, and he watches as she silently grows embarrassed at his written words. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and the pout that takes over her lips is enough to tell him his silly message worked. It was just a regular compliment, but he knows she’s never been good with those ever since he called her annoying on second grade.

One would say he’s to be blamed for her complex, but he likes to think he has only helped her develop one of her unique traits.

Sakura shakes her pink head, then, and he watches as she rips another piece of paper so they can continue their sneaky conversation. They certainly look like children right now, especially since they both know they can just pick their phones from their pockets and text each other. It would be easier, sure, but not half as fun.

“Very charming. Still, you’ll need more than, that if you want my notes!” is her answer, with an exclamation mark written with a big dot on the bottom, and he pretends to be taken aback by those words. She’s still blushing, he can tell, and he feels oddly proud for that. Maybe he shouldn’t, though, because he knows she dreams of becoming a great doctor someday and she just loves biology so so much that, perhaps, he should really just leave her to her studies.

But it’s stronger than him. Having her reactions and her attention all to himself makes him selfish, and even if he hates to act differently than what he’s used to, he doesn’t complain one bit when he does that for her.

It’s all for her. All because of her.

He’s but a teenager living his first love, and that alone should give him the right to enjoy this fleeting phase next to her. People say it’s the best moment of life, and even if he doesn’t know wether it’s true or not, he’s ready to, at least, try to make the best of it.

So, yes, Sasuke is going to keep sending her notes during her favorite class if they make her smile. He’s going to keep choosing the right words to make her blush and he’s going to keep stealing glances, hoping to be caught, until the day comes when he doesn’t really have to steal anymore.

fin

——-—

a/n: okay, first of all, HAPPY SASUSAKU MONTH, y’all! Here’s to another wonderful month filled with love and sasusaku! Let’s all have fun and celebrate our beloved ship! Now, to the story... honestly, I hate it so much. I think this is one of the worst things I’ve ever written, but at least, it’s over now. Nothing came to me when working with this theme and I really just wanted to move on with this already. I thought about writing something about Sasuke making amends with his newfound love for Sakura in a high school setting, but it’s just meh. Sorry for that. It’ll get better, I promise XD Still, hope you have fun!

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 3

In which: Danny getting yeeted into the Lazarus Pit yields anticlimactic consequences and Bruce Wayne converses with a fruit loop.

AO3 | Prologue | 2 | [ 3 ] | 4 |

DANIEL BARELY HAD TIME TO SCREAM before he’s plunged into the green depths of the Lazarus pit, primeval waves crashing against the walls of the pool. Talia flicked her wrist, signaling the ten League members hidden in the shadows to approach. Each one spaced equally apart around the pit with smoke pellets synthesized from blood blossoms held in their hands, ready to drop at a moment’s notice.

Pit madness rendered the majority of the living uncontrollable, with even the weakest of humans imbued with a strength that could only be induced by the purest of rage. The League was not taking chances as to how a being like her son would react to it.

The waters stilled.

Then—

A bright flash of light. Then, faster than the eyes could follow, a figure erupted from the waters. Bone white hair that twisted and curled as if it were still underwater. Skin lightly tinged frostbitten blue and clad in a suit of black and white and shrouded in an aura of blinding light. Phantom appeared from the depths, floating above the pit like a god reborn.

His eyes burned a toxic green.

“What the fuck was that?”

But not pit madness green.

Talia ordered her assassins to at ease with a raise of her hand. She slowly walked to her father’s side just as her son—Phantom—landed at the edge of the pool. Idly, Talia noticed how different Phantom seemed in comparison to her son. Physical attributes aside, Daniel tended to make himself smaller. What venom that may coat his words and the vitriol in his glares dampened by the way he held himself. Shoulders hunched and head tilted down. Non-threatening. Hands always needing to do something, whether it be holding his arms or shoved inside his pockets or constantly brushing it through his hair. No matter how she and his instructors taught him how to hold himself like a warrior, like a soldier, he still tended to present himself as a skittering little animal.

Phantom was different. He squared his soldiers and lifted his chin high, unafraid to stretch out to his fullest height and use his defiance of gravity to make himself look bigger. Stronger. His arms held steady at his sides, curled into tight fists. Green eyes—green as the Lazarus pit yet without that spark of madness that so consumed everyone else—burning with righteous fury.

“You fucking threw me into the weird green pool. What even—who does that?”

Ra’s tilted his head. “Fascinating. It seems you have a resistance to the pit madness.”

Phantom blinked, caught off guard. “Pit…madness,” he echoed. A statement, though from the wrinkle in his brows and the look he shoots Talia, it was more a question than anything else.

“It is one of the side effects of the Lazarus pits.” Talia approached her son with caution, holding his face with both hands and inspecting for any differences. “While the waters rejuvenate, restore, and even temporarily imbue one with supernatural strength, it also tends to inflict users with temporary insanity.”

“Insanity?” His eyes widened, trembling hands coming up to hold her wrists. Strangely, Daniel did not pull away from her touch. “I could have gone insane?”

Those bright eyes of his looked so frightened. Haunted. Pupils dilated to mere pinpricks of blackness, lost in a sea of Lazarus green. “Oh habeebi, only temporarily.”

“Like that’s better!” He yelled. “Even temporarily, I’m—” He staggered back, breaking out of her hold. Harmless Danny Fenton bleeding into proud Phantom as he ran his hands through his hair, unwilling to look at anyone.

Ra’s continued to watch, his arms crossed beneath his sternum, muttering to himself. Her father had prided himself on being one of the most knowledgeable about the Lazarus pits and its effects. Now, faced with a new mystery, the scholar within the Demon’s Head emerged as he observed his grandson.

“No,” Ra’s said, mostly to himself. “Perhaps less of a ‘resistance’ and more of an ‘immunity’ to it, given how both Daniel and the Lazarus pit have similar compositions. It would be a fascinating tangent to follow.” He chuckled to himself. “How droll. The life-restoring Lazarus pit holding a connection to the land of the dead.”

Talia turned to her father. “So, Daniel will not feel any of the pit’s side effects, then?”

Daniel perked up at the sound of his name, halting in his pacing. “I…might not go insane?”

“Perhaps, though it is too soon to tell. You have the waters of the Lazarus pit flowing through your veins, Daniel.” Ra’s smiled; eyes gleaming with the sparks of pride. “You and it are made of the same chemicals, the same reality-defying compounds that can bring the dead back to life.”

“Well, great. I have the same chemical makeup as a glowing hot tub, what else is new—” Her son staggered, and she caught him. Impossibly bright rings formed at his abdomen and then split, transforming Phantom back into a human. Mortal. His face haggard and sweating from the temples, eyes back to her beloved’s pale blues.

Her father did not bat an eye. “The pit’s healing effects are slowed down, then? Or perhaps it is because he has no wounds to heal?” Ra’s hummed; chin cradled in his hand. “Set him back into the pits, Talia. I believe young Daniel has yet to absorb all his needed energy.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s fine. Put me back in the crazy water, why not?” Daniel tugged at her shoulders. “Just…gently, please?”

Talia smoothed down his dark hair with a smile. “Of course, habeebi. I will even stay with you as well.”

When he looked at her, it was something almost akin to gratefulness.

------

In Gotham City, the upper echelons of society gather together at the Gotham Expo Center. The shining halls, which had been used as the site of a week-long exhibition of new scientific research, was reoutfitted to serve as the venue for the exhibition’s final event.

A gala. The hunting ground of the nouveau riche and old money families. Corporate moguls and debutants made their rounds across the floor, chatting with heirs and politicians and the who’s who of the upper class.

Scientists and researchers attempted to step out of their shells and dazzle the crowds. Wanting to fish a willing patron with deep pockets to fund their next project. Reporters huddled together like schools of fish, warily approaching the predators in their midst for a question or a photo. Both things many of the wealthy and affluent are easily ready to give, as long as it only showed off their best side in tomorrow’s society papers.

Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, and society’s darling observed everything as he always did, in that most people believed he barely noticed anything beyond what’s right in front of him. He raised the flute glass of champagne to his lips, pretending to take a sip as he listened to the chatter of sycophants around him. A few were even some promising researchers of which he made a mental note to pass along to Lucius.

Two nights ago, Bruce received a tip of unusual movements from the League of Assassins. The organization had been quiet as of late, and while Bruce had been very carefully monitoring their activities in the background, the sudden tightening of their security prompted him to take a closer look.

There had been sightings of the League of Assassins centered around a small town in Illinois—Amity Park. A rural tourist trap championing itself as the most haunted place in America. Something that Bruce would normally scoff at or zealously research about if not for John Constantine’s warning to “never go within a ten-mile radius of that hellhole.” With similar sentiments from others in the occult community, the Justice League decided to take that warning to heart. Bruce’s curiosity may have been piqued, but even he was tactful enough to avoid courting more trouble.

Suffice to say, Bruce—and especially Batman—could not afford to ignore Ra’s al Ghul’s movements. Whatever his plans were involved whatever anomalies were going on in Amity Park. And wasn’t it simply serendipitous that one of the guest lists for tonight’s gala was Vlad Masters, the mayor of Amity Park?

“Vlad Masters, is that you?” Bruce, slapping on his signature Brucie smile, masterfully detached himself from his previous group, quickly heading towards the nearby bar where he spotted Vlad getting another drink.

“Why, Bruce Wayne, it’s been so long!” The two shook hands, of which Bruce was slightly surprised at how cold to the touch Vlad was. A health condition, perhaps. Then again, there was something in Vlad’s appearance and stature that spoke of a deeper reason.

“It’s been, what, two years? What brings you to Gotham?”

“Business; the usual really.” Despite whatever friendly aura they’re projecting, Bruce Wayne and Vlad Masters weren’t friends. More acquaintances that have been forced to mingle a few times because of the nature of their business and the demands of high society. From what Bruce knows, Vlad is a business tycoon that’s as blindingly charismatic as he was infamous for his quick rise to wealth and a few rather shady dealings.

Bruce stuck his hand in his pocket. “Well Vlad, last we all heard was you dipping your toes into politics. You’re a, uh, what, a governor?”

Vlad let out an obviously fake chuckle. “Oh nothing as grand as that. I’m only a small-town mayor, really.”

“Right!” Bruce snapped his fingers. “So, what’s that like?”

“Oh dreadful work, really. So much paperwork, so many things to do or oversee, but rewarding in its own way.” He puffed out his chest. “Many of the people in Amity Park do rely on me, you know. Though I’m afraid my schedule’s busy enough that I barely have time to go home!”

“Well, we’re very happy that you made room enough to visit us here in Gotham.”

Bruce sensed Damian coming to stand beside him and instinctually placed a hand around his shoulder. Though his youngest had been steadily adjusting to his new life here in Gotham, he still preferred to stick to his father’s shadow than mingle with those of his own age groups at galas. (Then again, Bruce was very similar when he was younger so perhaps it was a genetic thing).

He smiled down at Damian—frowning as he’d rather be patrolling the streets in uniform as opposed to schmoozing with people he hardly cared about. “Have you met my son, Vlad? Damian, this is Vlad Masters, a business partner and a, uh—” He scrunched his face, pretending to remember what Vlad’s current occupation is. “Mayor of some small town out west.”

Bruce turned to look at Vlad, expecting to see some variation of ‘insulted but trying to keep up a polite façade’—only to freeze.

Vlad’s face paled considerably. His beady eyes comically wide as he looked at Damian, the fingers curled around the stem of his flute glass bone white. Damian, unnerved, steadied his stance but shifted minutely closer to Bruce.

Well, this was interesting. “You alright, Vlad? You looked like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Vlad jerked his head towards Bruce. Surprise—and fear? —contorted his features for a brief moment before smoothed back down into a proper mask. “Mayor of Amity Park, yes. My apologies,” he chuckled. “Young—Damian, was it? —only reminded me of someone I knew once.” He shifted his gaze back to Damian. “The resemblance is actually quite uncanny.”

Damian furrowed his brows. “Amity Park?”

“You’ve heard of it, Damian?”

“I would be surprised if you did.” Vlad masters took a small ship of his champagne. “Then again, it should be expected that you might have heard of it. The town does love it’s ghosts.”

Bruce laughed. “What, like Casper?”

“Something like that, yes.” There’s a tightness to Vlad’s voice. “Amity Park is its own breed of strange. We’ve handled things well enough on our own in the past, and quite honestly you get used to all of the spooks eventually. Though I must say the shadows are quite new—I’d often ask myself if I should petition your city’s vigilante and put him on the case.

“Shadows?”

Vlad easy smile shifted into a faint grimace. “They have a rather nasty habit of snooping.”

------

Despite Bruce and Damian’s attempt at plying Vlad for more answers, Vlad kept his mouth shut, evading questions and changing topics skillfully. Something that only raised Bruce’s alarm that something was going on.

“So,” Bruce unbuttoned his suit as he stepped into the car, “How did you hear of Amity, Damian? Ghosts and ghouls don’t exactly seem like something you’d be interested in.”

He waited for Damian to buckle his seatbelt before shifting the Bentley into drive and pulling out of the Expo. They had stayed at the gala long enough, making their rounds and giving the media enough for a headline in the society pages.

Damian rested his hand against the window. His face scrunched as he watched the looming facades of Gotham’s architecture pass by. “Mother mentioned the name once or twice,” he said. “I was not…privy to every operation that happened in the League, so I don’t know anything despite that my grandfather took an interest in Amity.”

“And I’m sure that from Masters’ odd phrasing, Ra’s didn’t just magically lose that interest either.” He narrowed his eyes. “Contact Oracle and have her dig up everything we need to know about the situation in Amity Park. I think it’s time Batman made his introductions to some out-of-town guests.”

[crocworkships]

Reconnaissance Mission

(A/N: Part three to this and this little series. How is Illumi dealing with this weird Hunter woman? Not especially well! :D)

In the days after she snapped at him, Illumi found himself thinking more and more often of the strange Hunter that dared stand between himself and his dearest little brother. Her indignation and her stubborn drive to protect those children (even from things they needn’t be protected from, like their own family) stuck in his mind. It also bothered him that his Kill seemed to care for her as well.

He started keeping an eye on the Hunter once in awhile, in-between jobs. He told himself that he was simply watching over Kill at first, since she accompanied him and the other boy, Gon, fairly often, like a mother hen. Then he decided that he was watching the Hunter to figure out the opportune moment and way to get rid of her, so she would stop interfering with his family. Then, he simply watched her out of habit. She was so odd, in a completely different way than most other people he knew; she flipped constantly between maternal caring for the two young boys, to a sort of childlike giddiness whenever she talked to a friend (he observed that she spent a lot of time in a retired Hunter’s curio shop) about recent acquisitions as a Hunter, to that same pique she had showed him when she felt one of her own was threatened – though he also observed that this happened relatively infrequently.

Illumi was unaware how much he had been thinking of this Hunter, trying to establish a pattern in her behaviour and discover her combative prowess, until Hisoka brought it up to him, to his slight embarrassment.

“You look troubled, my friend. Thinking about that girl again?” Illumi could hear the smirk in the magician’s voice without needing to look.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’ve seen how much you watch her. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were smitten,” Hisoka said, leaning in too close to Illumi’s face. He did things like this often, and Illumi immediately schooled his expression into one of smooth indifference perfected after years of practice.

“I need to know how to cleanly get rid of her. She is interfering with Zoldyck family business, but I don’t want my brother to be too upset when she disappears.” He said quietly, calmly. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Hisoka, but he knew his companion was always looking for cracks in everyone’s armor. This woman would not be one in his.

“I’m surprised you haven’t taken her out already,” Hisoka purred, “she isn’t a very experienced fighter. You could take her out easily. She can barely keep her aura under control with the intensity of her emotions.” His voice was right in Illumi’s ear, like a snake. Illumi finally deigned to look at Hisoka, turning his eyes, but not his head. He wasn’t sure what to say here; a part of him balked at the idea of killing the Hunter-woman, but he couldn’t articulate why.

“I know what I’m doing, Hisoka,” Illumi said, unsure if he were assuring the magician or himself, “don’t worry about it.”

Hisoka shrugged playfully, backing off. Illumi returned his gaze to a spot on the wall opposite him and concluded that he would have to do something about the Hunter before Hisoka did.

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

Two weeks after that exchange, Illumi covertly followed the Hunter on one of her quests, as he had been doing increasingly often. He was not especially worried about her safety; the things she Hunted for she typically did not have to fight others to acquire. He watched her glide through forests, consulting ancient maps, and finally arrive at what looked like the ruins of a temple. His Hunter approached the ruins slowly, reverently, her eyes shining in awe. There was something fascinating about that, he thought. Seeing her eyes all wide and bright captivated him, somehow. Perhaps this is her nen style? Was she a Manipulator, like him?

Before he could ponder it too long, there was a sudden movement as five men leapt out of their hiding spots to surround his Hunter before she could reach the ruins. Illumi leaned forward, observing more closely now. He had been looking forward to this. He knew that his Hunter was being followed, and now he would have an opportunity to see how she fought. Then he would know how best to neutralize her, and she would not have her claws in his Kill anymore.

His Hunter jumped, frightened. She clearly had not known she was followed. Her first mistake.

Reacting quickly, she looked around for possible escapes. Apparently finding none (though Illumi could spot a few), she lowered her stance and said something to the brigand directly in front of her. Naïvely demanding answers or trying to buy herself time? Either way, a waste of precious time to fight or escape. Her second mistake.

Fortune must have been in her favour, though, because the apparent leader of the brigands laughed and began delivering what must have been some sort of monologue; the other four men politely waited for him to finish, rather than rushing her while she was distracted.

Suddenly, a shout: “ASĊUFE!” and the leader was sent flying back a few feet. His Hunter did not appear to have moved, but that was clearly a use of her nen. She must be an Emitter, then. That would account for her short temper. He leaned in closer, intent on learning exactly how she fought.

Not waiting for the leader to get back up, she rushed forward, aiming for the entrance of the ruined temple. But she was not quite quick enough as the leader grabbed her leg and dragged her down. Then the four other brigands rushed in, some recoiling with shouts of pain when she shouted another word, “Forseċe!” and as she inexpertly slashed at her attackers with a knife. But they were all larger than she, and clearly trained to fight together, and Illumi began to worry that she might not make it out of this fight.

No.

He dashed toward the melee, keeping himself concealed, and threw a needle at each brigand. With practiced effortlessness, he hit his mark each time and a round-headed needle embedded itself into the neck of four of the men, and the eye of the leader, still under his Hunter. Ignoring his screams, Illumi sat back in his hiding place in the forest canopy as he realized what he had just done. His Hunter rolled away in a panic and ducked for cover – that’s better, Illumi thought absently – and he tried to decide how to proceed from here.

Why had he done that? It was reflexive, he did it the moment his Hunter looked to be in real danger. Well, I need to be the one who kills her, I can’t let some nobody thugs do it before I’ve made her pay, he thought. But was that really the reason? Why did the idea of someone else hurting her twist his gut so unpleasantly? The only time they had spoken, she had snapped at him for talking to his own beloved little brother. Why was he being like this?

He didn’t understand this strange protectiveness. This Hunter had a dangerous hold on him now, not just his Kill. This was a problem he would need to give some serious thought to now. He needed to deal with her – the sooner the better.

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

Trying to muffle her panicked breaths, the Hunter waited in her hiding spot for what felt like an eternity under the cover of the ruins, in case whatever had suddenly killed the mercs was still there. Eventually, when listening and searching for an aura still indicated that she was alone, she crawled slowly out of her hiding place and examined the nearest body, Mad Dog, the leader. There was something in his eye, and looked deep enough to have gotten to his brain. The screaming as he died had been horrible, and she had to turn away and take some deep breaths to keep herself from puking. Turning back to look again, she finally recognized what the weapon was: a needle, with a big, round, golden head. She had seen these once before, and she couldn’t imagine who else could use them to so effectively kill someone. An icy hand clenched around her heart.

Illumi’s been following me.

[damienthepious]

hello tuesday i’m predictable and perpetually obsessed with these nerds and their soft lizrrd kissin <3 

kiss it better

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, Mild Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling

Summary: Sir Damien wears a tapestry of scars, new and old.

Notes: just another weird exploration of their relationship told mostly through soft touching. i'm predictable, what can i say? also i didn't have time to edit as thoroughly as i'd like, so forgive any obvious typos or grammar weirdness.

~

There is a certain sense that Amaryllis and Sir Damien make together: the doctor alongside the knight who cannot seem to stop himself from falling headfirst into injury. They fit together in this way as they do in many, many others.

(Arum, monstrous lord of a monstrous land, is still trying to work out precisely how he fits, within their already perfect embrace)

Arum pretends not to linger, pretends not to watch as Amaryllis disinfects Damien's most recent injury, a set of friction burns on his hands from an ill-advised tug-of-war with an unfortunately stubborn ogre, and a related bruise (contusion, Amaryllis says) on his ribs. She is careful, focused, apparently oblivious to the way that Damien watches her work, moon-eyed and nearly too loving to bear. Arum does not quite understand how she may ignore such attention; he is certain that if Damien aimed such a gaze at him, he might, perhaps, bolt from the room lest he respond to such intensity in foolishness.

Damien winces as Amaryllis puts away the disinfectant and instead begins working one of her healing salves into his battered palms, and Arum-

Doesn't mean to make a small noise of sympathy, but Damien glances up, then, blinking and seeming to remember Arum's presence, observing them. The knight's cheeks darken, but- he does not look away, after he meets Arum's eyes.

"I'm alright," he says quietly, after a moment, and Arum ducks his head with a skeptical growl.

"It should heal up fine," Amaryllis adds, her voice practical and a little distant with her focus. "It's just bound to hurt because there's a concentration of nerves in the hands."

"It is nothing that I cannot bear," Damien says, more gently, and then he quirks his lips into a small sort of smile in Arum's direction, tilting his head, something odd and yearning in his eyes. Arum flicks his tail, resisting the urge to look away or step closer or whine softly in sympathy, or something else equally embarrassing, and after another moment Damien's chin lifts a little higher. "Why... why do you stand so far apart, my lily?"

Arum opens his mouth, hesitates, and then allows himself to take an uncertain step forward. "I shouldn't like to get in the way," he says, shrugging. "Far be it from me to interfere with the doctor's skillful work."

"Honestly I'd be grateful if you'd come cuddle him so he can stop staring at me for a second or two. Not that I don't appreciate the attention, Damien," she adds, conciliatory as Damien pouts, "but when you look at me like that I mostly just wanna stick my tongue in your mouth and I can't exactly do that until you're all bandaged up, can I?"

Arum laughs as Damien flushes even darker, ducking his head with a pleased little breath, and then the poet raises his eyes again, and Arum wonders if Damien knows how compelling and inarguable he looks, pleading up at Arum through his lashes like that. Absurd creature.

Well. If Amaryllis would like him to come closer, would like for him to embrace Damien as she works...

He seats himself behind the poet, out of the way of Amaryllis as she winds her bandages slowly over Damien's palms, and after a moment he sighs, dropping his chin to rest on Damien's shoulder, pressing his snout into the crook of Damien's neck.

"Better, honeysuckle?"

Damien hums, tipping his head to rest against Arum's and pressing a sideways kiss to his brow. "Hmm, yes, it certainly seems so."

Arum pauses, then growls a light warning, his frill fluttering out on one side and trapped against Damien's neck on the other. "You are the injured one, honeysuckle," he mutters. "Again. Don't-"

"I know, love." Damien presses another kiss to his cheek, then one beside his eye, and then over his forehead again. "Only teasing. You know I don't mean to make you worry."

Arum growls again, a little lower, a little more weakly, and he finally relents, reaching to caress Damien's arms, obviously not hugging him close as he wishes to, considering that Amaryllis has shifted focus to the bruise on the poet's ribs, now.

"Not much to do for this one," she says, narrowing her eyes and pressing the tips of her fingers to the skin on either side of the purpling mark. "I'll make a cold pack for it, bring down the swelling, but the best way to treat that one is for you to take it easy, and I know getting you to do that is gonna be more of a battle than the actual battle, so."

Damien gasps, a wordless indignant denial. Arum chuckles against his skin, and watches over his shoulder as Amaryllis replaces her supplies in her bag.

"Whatever would he do without you, Amaryllis?" he whispers, his intended teasing tone failing entirely when his voice wavers.

Amaryllis twists her lips into a wry sort of smirk, and then she reaches to grip Damien's wrist above the bandaging. "I shudder to think," she says, and Damien pouts again with his eyes gone even more pleading, turning in Arum's arms to face him, using Amaryllis' grip on his arm to tug her closer as well.

"Come now, loves, I am not so terribly fragile as all that-"

"Not fragile," Arum agrees, readjusting his grip as Damien twists in his arms. He swallows, and then helplessly drops his forehead, pressing his face against Damien's bare shoulder with a sigh. "A fact which you seem determined to prove by constantly testing yourself against foes that should break you."

Damien makes a noise so small that Arum feels it more than hears it, and then the poet leans even closer and lifts one arm, curling almost protectively around Arum. As if Arum is the one in need of protection, ridiculous little knight-

Arum tilts his head, then flicks his tongue to tickle at a long scar high on Damien's bicep. He presses an almost-kiss to the shadow of an old claw mark on his shoulder, then nuzzles gently against a splash of a burn over his collarbone, and then he turns to another mark, and another-

It is a part of Damien's beauty, in a strange, vaguely terrifying way. The subtle mapping of scars, layers of new marks over older remnants, pale lines like constellations and inkwell spills of old burns, raised bumps of lingering punctures, bites, and, most vivid of all to Arum's eyes, one long, shallow, deliberate silvery slash on Damien's arm, the mirror of his own.

An archive of injury, a tableau of every attempt this world has made on Sir Damien's life.

(As Damien sleeps through some measure of his exhaustion after the Terminus, Amaryllis traces these lines and pools and patterns of silver in the dimness of their newly shared bed, whispering memories old and new over Damien's gently resting body, quietly murmuring needed to poke himself awake so the gorgon wouldn't kill him, took days and I was furious when he finally came home, and a leopard, nonmagical even, just sick and starving and desperate, and an accident from a sparring practice in his training days, and terrible reaction to a Viper-Rose bite, it took weeks for the rash to respond to treatment, and Lord Arum does not sleep a single moment, that night, for the thought of all the ways he could have lost Sir Damien long before they ever had the opportunity to meet.)

Thank every single speck of magic in the Universe that Damien had Amaryllis, that they had each other. Thank Damien's Saints too, if there is even a chance they had a hand in any of it.

Arum draws his tongue soothingly over a long-healed slash on Damien's chest, then presses his snout against a raised ridge of scar tissue on his other shoulder, then lifts his face to flick his tongue against a thin, subtle line on his chin, and the poet makes a soft noise, a sighing noise.

Amaryllis cups his chin, tilting his face towards her and pulling him into a warm, lingering kiss.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you're trying to outshine my bedside manner," she breathes against his mouth, and Arum gives a helpless gust of laughter. "You are so- Saints-"

"Amaryllis-"

Damien coughs politely, one arm still wrapped around Arum's shoulder, and then he smiles very shyly when they both glance towards him again. "The both of you, my loves, my flowers, you make me feel... you make me feel as treasured as a relic, as beloved as- as-"

"As beloved as you are, I should hope," Arum murmurs, looking away reflexively, but Amaryllis tugs his face closer again for another kiss, humming her agreement against his lips. Arum sighs as she releases him, his nerves settling, and then he turns in Damien's arms, kissing him just as soft.

Damien is not fragile, not truly. He is resilient, headstrong, brave in spite of his fear. Damien is not fragile, but-

He has endured more than his fair share of harm. Arum cannot soothe that harm as Amaryllis can, cannot help him heal, but that does not mean that Arum can do nothing. He can still hold him safe, he can still smooth his fingers over those ridges and lines and marks, can still kiss him across every beautiful inch of his body. He may love Damien's scars, for all that they prove that Damien has survived.

Damien is not fragile, but Arum and Amaryllis may still treat their brave, headstrong, resilient knight gently, may treat him delicately.

As delicately, perhaps, as honeysuckle.

[nanamisflowerfield]

HELLO!I hope you are healthy! Make sure to eat veggies and drink a lot of water! I dunno if I'm doing it right but How about Finnian or Sebastian with a future!Phantomhive reader? Like reader is Ciel's decendant( look like the female version of him) and vert important to the Quenn and England( *cough and almost every other country *cough) They were hunting some witch maybe but teleported back to past. With her cousin who is Elizabeth's male version, constantly asks her to marry her and etc. They landed right inside of the manor and a fight begins( Maybe reader is kinda half demon half human or half angel half human) She uses every kind of weapons but she is especially good at swords. Ciel doesn't believe of course so she basically tells the whole family history and shows him the ring.Oh and also maybe the same things that happened to him also happened to her as well. When she sees Sebastian she is like " Dude you didn't even bother changing yourself?" Before she kills the witch, the witches puts a spell on her, saying that as long as she doesn't fix her ancestor's mistakes, she cannot go back and won't have a future.So reader is stuck in past eith her annoying cousin I would like to see their times together, you know liking then blushing, trying to confess, their first kiss and just some fluff!

Thank you in advance sweetie and take care!

Omg, thanks for the request!!❤️ it sounded very interesting and I just had to write it as fast as possible! (*^ω^*) I had so much fun!~ Thanks again! I coudln’t decide who I should choose... It was pretty hard to decide...

So this is a Finnian x Reader HC... Unfortunately I had work and a every important exam and couldn‘t write it fast, sorry about it! And so sorry for waiting so long for it!!

And thanks!~ I hope that you (and everybody else of course) is taking care of themselves, wears their masks, be healthy and happy!~ ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Gender: I wanted to write it gender-neutral but it I wrote sometimes she/her in it.... Sorry!

words: 2058

warnings: fluffyyyy! And death

Requests: Open

If somebody ever wants to read a Sebastian Michaelis x Reader with this plot, just ask me! I would write it, because I loved the plot-idea! It was very great! Thanks again, hun!

And some last words: Stay healthy, drink enough water, wear your masks and yes, it is a hard time for everybody but I hope that you all will be happy!~

🗡  “Come on! Go and get that, stupid witch!” You yelled over to your group of colleagues and friends. You all runed as fast as possible to hunt down a strong witch, who wanted to kill the Queen of England and as a good-hearted and well paid Phantomhive, you tried to help her. Unfortunately for you, the emphasis was on the word tried, because the witch was too fast.

🗡  “Sooo…. When is going to be our wedding?” You heard a too familiar voice asking you by your side. “This is no the time to joke around, Elijah! We need to hurry!”

🗡 Thanks to the gods above, you surrendered the witch. But she started to laugh like a frickin’ maniac! “Ohh, you know why I did so many things? Hahaha… I did it for a reason! So many people did so many mistakes and nobody ever tried to help them out or to fix their big problems … So… Why don’t you be a dear and fix the mistakes your beloved ancestors did!”

🗡 Suddenly a light dazzled you and when you opened your (e/c) eyes. No! The witch can’t escape her again! So you did the only intelligent thing and killed her.

🗡 But that damn light came again and out of the sudden your group was gone…

🗡  “Wow… That was strange.” But not Elijah. Your cousin. He stood up and walked to your direction, looking over your body to see, if you have any bruises or wounds. At least one of your group members were there.

🗡  “Yes, indeed. But not as weird as this place here.” You said and looked around you. The surroundings looked like London, the city you used to live in, but everything was so… old? What’s up with the furniture and this crappy paintings? You were to 100% sure that you were in your home. The Phantomhive Manor. But everything was so… weird!!

🗡 Before you could have asked your cousin about his little wound the witch inflicted him with, knives were thrown into your direction!

🗡 Fortunately, you were a skilled fighter. You could practically use every weapon if you wanted to! So you used your great skills and blocked the attacks of some strangers.

🗡 Some of them shot at you, some threw knives but then… You saw something weird. A tree!?

🗡 Elijah pushed you away in time, but only got stretched but a branch of it.

🗡 How in the world, could somebody throw trees around!? That was not possible for any human being!

🗡 Now, when you two were on the ground, you heard footsteps.

🗡  “Who are you?” - “Uhh… If I’m not wrong, people usually introduced themselves before they asked others.” – “You are inside my home. I’m pretty sure, that you know who I am, assassin.”

🗡 Assassin? That was new…

🗡  “What the hell? Hey, kiddo. This place belongs to (y/n)! Afterall this is her home for she is a Phantomhive!”

🗡  “Phantomhive?” The young blue-haired boy raised his eyebrow and did not believed any word Elijah had said.

🗡 So, it was your turn to explain your situation. Who you are, why you are here and so on and on. But the young boy still didn’t believe a word. His household even looked at you in confusion. Until you showed them your ring. The ring of the Phantomhives.

🗡 His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw it and immediately glanced to his finger. It was the same one! How could it be possible? A young woman with blueish hair, the same ring as his and not to forget a similar past… Is she mayhaps from another world? But no. You retold him everything again.

🗡 When your eyes glanced around, you saw very familiar red eyes. The red eyes of a demon. Sebastian Michaelis. “Ohhh my gosh. Are you kidding me, Sebastian!? Did you really… REALLY attacked ME!? What the hell! I thought that you wouldn’t do such a thing except if we had our training sessions, but this is just…. Oh god, I am really mad right now. And what the hell is wrong with your clothes?” Sigh. “Dude… you didn’t even bother changing yourself? Unbelievable.”

🗡 Everybody was just very confused…. Even Elijah.

🗡 And who knows. Maybe you were unfortunate or maybe not, but you were stuck in the past. At first you though it was your bad luck, but now… Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Afterall… he was here. With you.

 💐 At the beginning you started to count the days since you were stuck in the past or… present day(?)

💐 And Elijah was there nonstop. He would never leave your side, even when you wanted to sleep in one of the guest rooms, you’ve got from your ancestor Ciel Phantomhive. Your cousin just followed you like a lost little puppy, but it was pretty normal.

💐 Everybody thought at first, that he was your fiancée, until you’ve told them that you would never marry him. He was more like a brother figure to you than husband material… (I feel sorry for Elijah D: )

💐 You loved to look around and observe watch everybody.

💐 It was kinda funny how Mey-Rin always slipped and tripped around or how the kitchen nearly exploded whenever Baldroy tried to cook for the head of the household. It never got boring.

💐 But you loved liked to watch one person particular.

💐 “Good day, Finnian.” You smiled at the gardener, who always seems to be happy, whenever he worked with the flowers.

💐 How could somebody so sweet be so strong? I mean… He threw a tree at you!!

💐 “Ohhh… Lady (y/n). H-Hello!” And like always the young blond boy blushed when he saw you. Some might say that he got a small little crush on you, which was so cute.

💐 He was so different and special.

💐 “Oh, stop it with this whole lady-crap, please.” Of course you didn’t wanted to be called as lady by some guy who you were interested in. And that was all. You were just interested in him for his strength and not his cute blushing face… Or how he always seems to bet happy… How he always tries to help you…

💐 Sometimes, you were sitting under a tree, reading a book boringly. When are you going to be in your time and see your friends???

💐 Whenever this happened, Finnian looked worriedly at you. You always looked so sad. So, he went to his friends and asked how he could cheer you up! They of course have told him how he could cheer you up with different ideas!

💐 Mission Number 1 by Baldroy: Show her your strength. Women love strong people!

💐 When you tried to help him with the weed in the garden, you tried to pull some out but it was kind of stuck in there next to the beautiful flowers you loved. The sterling roses. Finnian, the sweet-like angel, walked to your side to help you out. But then… He got so awkward by the closeness of you two, that he accidently pulled the rose bush out of the ground rather than the weed. “OH NO!” – “Oh gosh, Finnian…. Why?” – “I-I… I didn’t… I… NO!” And the blond gardener ran away, leaving a confused but smiling phantomhive alone in the garden.

💐 Mission Number 1: Failed.

💐 Mission Number 2 by Mey-Rin: Bring her something she likes. Like tea! Yes~ She always drinks tea!

💐 Nervously, Finnian walked to you, hearing the voice of Elijah who talked about who knows what until he saw the gardener. “H-Hello… Do you want some tea…? It’s Earl Grey tea… Here…” He said blushing and coming near to the one he fancied so much. But who could have known that there was a small stone in front of the awkward blond. Small enough to be hidden, but large enough to trip over it, which is what the gardener did. He tripped and the tea he prepared for you, spilled over you, making a big mess. Shocked, he ran away after he apologized to you, not hearing a small laugh of yours and the loud yelling of Elijah.

💐 Mission Number 2: Failed.

💐 When Finnian read a romance book to get a few plans, he thought about giving up completely, but he couldn’t do such a thing. The only thing that matters right now is to make you happy… He couldn’t give up! No! So, he did more researches, not realizing that his beloved crush was nearby, smiling at the blonde.

💐  “Okay… What if I-“ – “Finnian!” He looked over his shoulder to see you running to him. “Oh… Is something wrong? You were running… Do you need help?” He asked immediately. “No, silly.” You laughed. “You looked so nervous again and…. You were thinking about something, right? I thought that you might have been upset with something. Maybe the flowers you accidently ruined.” He gulped. Oh no… You remembered it.

“Sooo… Here. It’s for you.” You said and shoved a bouquet of sterling roses and sunflowers into his hands with the brightest smile you could ever give somebody and would make a certain someone very furious and jealous.

💐 That was the day, you both realized that you weren’t just interested in somebody or fancied that one… No. It was a stronger feeling. It was like… love. Yeah, maybe you loved him.

💐 Now, he wanted to confess to you, after that one day, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to do this. Elijah would be mad and you were a phantomhive! That was a big no-no! But you were the only thing that makes him super happy…

💐 You might not have the power of mind-reading, but you sure have a great sense in reading people’s emotions, which is why you were certain, that he had the same feelings you had.

💐 It was time to confess your feelings! But… how?

💐 “Ohh nooo!” You dramatically laid your arm on your head and glanced down. “I am stuck here. I can’t get dooooown! What should I doooo?~ Ohhh, I wish for a strong one to save me!~” – “Here, I am!”

“NO! ELIJAH GO AWAY!! NOT YOU! GOOO!” – “But you need help, (y/n)!” – “Elijah, I don’t need your help!”

And that little argument went back and forth for a while, until he came to you two. “You two are having many arguments…” – “Oh, that is very normal for us. Many say that we are like a married couple, right my beloved?~ Ouch! Why are you throwing your shoes at me!? Stop it, please!”

“But you said, that you needed help!” – “NOT YOURS!! I can come down ALONE! Here!”

And that is what you tried to do. Usually, you were like a cat. Perfect at climbing trees and landing on your feet, but this time, the phantomhive-bad luck hit you hard in your face, which resulted in you making a wrong step and falling down.

💐 And here you were. In the arms of the one you wanted to help you. Finnian. He was fast enough (and strong enough to shove Elijah away) to save you in time. “Ohhh, my hero!~” You laughed and threw your arms around his shoulders, smiling at the still shocked gardener.

“Let me give my sweet knight in the dirty armor a reward!~” That’s what you did. You gave him a surprise kiss-attack on his lips!

💐 Oh gosh…. He looked like a tomato! Totally blushing and asking if it was okay to kiss.

💐 “But of course! I might be stuck here in your time… But maybe it is a good thing I am here… I’ve got to meet you and finally love somebody… It was a long time since I ever trusted somebody… But know I can… I have you. I love you, Finnian.”

💐 Finni being a blushing mess and nearly yelling his reply of “I LOVE YOU!” too loud.

  Bonus:

💐 “…. WHAT!? BUT (Y/N)!! I thought we were going to marry!” – “No! She is mine!” – “Pff…. In your dreams! From now on, you will be my rival!”

“Uh…. I already chose Finnian, Elijah… Gosh, what the hell is wrong with you….”

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 02 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (01)

Next part (03)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Confessions:

You're up when Bruce comes, a tray in his hand, resting your back against the headboard, playing with your hair.

“Aren't you scared?” You ask him as he locks the door and puts the keys in his pocket.

“Scared of what? You?”

“Of the information I have now. Do you have any idea how many people would pay me to know who's the man behind the bat's mask?” As you speak, Bruce puts the tray on the nightstand. A sandwich and orange juice. You can't remember the last time you ate something so... Normal.

“What? Don't you like orange juice?”

“No, I...” The memories fill your head, like a flood. Tied up to the bed, people hovering over you. But you push it all back. You're a criminal, as dangerous as the Joker or Harley, your beloved sister. You're used to such treatments, and you don't care. “Won't you put all of it in a blender, then feed it to me through a straw? Put it on my nose and push it all the way down to my stomach.” You can't help but laugh at Bruce's face. Disgust, perplexity. “Oh, chill. That's nothing I can't deal with.”

“Haven't you noticed it yet? That I won't hurt you? Or treat you like an animal?”

“Well, you are keeping me here. Against my will. A golden prison is still a prison.” You're trying not to let the food get your attention, but you're starving. And the fact that it's real food makes it even harder.

“I'm only keeping you here because I know that if I set you free, you'll go back to your old life. And will probably end up in Belle Reve again.” Bruce gestures at the tray. “Eat, please.”

“If you ask so nicely.” Taking the tray, you place it on your lap, leaving the glass on the nightstand. Controlling yourself, you take a small bite, trying not to let it show how good it tastes. It feels weird to chew again, almost unnatural.

“I have to say a few things, so pay attention.” Bruce starts, eyes on you. “I'm aware they had you... Sedated... in Belle Reve. And from now on you won't be taking anything else then what I judge necessary. So you'll feel the reactions of the detoxification.”

“I will need painkillers. Heavy stuff.” You tell him in between bites.

“Are you hurt?”

Laying half of the sandwich down, you put the tray away, getting on your knees. “Wanna see how's the skin of a Belle Reve's intern?” Smiling, you lift your shirt, showing him your belly, stomach and ribs. You look down too, eyes observing the pattern of purple bruises, all over your skin. When you look at Bruce again, you don't understand the his expression. It looks like he cares, but there is no reason for him to do so. He's a hero, and you're the villain, his only job is to put you down. He's not supposed to care. “Don't look so surprised, Bruce. I'm used to it. I'm constantly high, so the pain is distant, numbed. Without what they give me... It will hurt.”

“Finish your sandwich.” He simply says, looking away and pacing around.

You decide to obey him just because it does taste good. The juice too. When you're done, you lay the tray back on the nightstand. “So... What now?”

He seems troubled, nervous. “Come and sit here.” He gestures at the armchair. Rolling your eyes, you do as he says. He's seated before you, and you feel like you're in a therapy session.

“May the interrogation begin,” you mutter, crossing your legs and arms.

“I want you to be honest. I just want to understand you.”

“What do you think you can get from that?” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean forward. You try to read him, to understand why is he doing this. Then you remember that he wants to prove a point. “Oh, I just remembered. I'm your project. Your lab rat.” What else could you be in the house of one of the heroes?

“Wouldn't you like to be able to have a normal life? A job you like, your own place, coming and going as you please?”

“I had all that before being thrown into hell on Earth.” As you speak, you feel your head spinning. Is it the detox working on already? You feel a fog in the back of your mind, and you feel your muscles relaxing. Taking a deep breath, you run a hand through your hair. This is not detoxification, this is something else. “What did you gave me?”

“Just something to make you tell me the truth.”

Laughing, you bite your lip. “You're amazing, I have to say.” Your mind is slower, you feel it. You wonder if your body is slower too, or if you could try to escape again. But Bruce is on high alert, you can see it. His eyes never leave you, watching your every move.

“How was your life? Childhood.”

“I know you read my files, Bruce Wayne. Ask something you don't know.” You hate feeling numb. Hugging your knees, you close your eyes shut, trying to shake away the feeling.

“I want to hear it from you.” His voice is distant, like an echo. Is it too much to ask to be left alone? To be awake, fully in control of yourself, your words and feelings... “I'm just trying to help you, and to do that, I need you to be honest. And since I didn't know if you'd cooperate, I had to give you-”

“You're only giving me what you judge necessary, right?” You hiss, face hidden on your knees. “Ask away, Batman. My life is an open book to you and to anyone who thinks to be better than me just because they have the upper hand.”

“Both my parents were killed in front of me when I was a kid.” Bruce bursts out, and it makes you look at him immediately. “I saw their dead bodies, the blood... That night is still a vivid memory, it never leaves me.”

You don't know what he expects you to say. You don't have good memories with your parents to say that you know how he feels. “Bad mother. Dead father, never met him. Harley left home early so I was left alone to deal with a drug addict mother. High School was nice, but that was when I started going out with Harley. Late night parties, dangerous people. I started to learn things, to enjoy those things... Then I knew I wanted that life. It was easy money, easy fun, and people respected me because I was under Harley's protection and she was under the Joker's protection.” It comes out, it doesn't matter if you want it or not. “The story of my life.”

“In the first two years of High School, your grades were high. In senior year, they started to drop. Was that because of your sister?”

“Yeah. I just wanted it to be over, and when I managed to graduate, I left home to be with Harley. But soon enough I built my own place, my own empire, and I didn't need her anymore.” This thing he gave you really works because you're not saying the words you want to.

“Why did you enjoy doing what your sister did?”

“It was so fun... So... Dangerous. The adrenaline is addicting and I never really... I never really...” You bite your tongue, holding it back. You tell yourself to be strong, to get a grip of reality, that you can beat whatever is affecting your mind.

“You never really what?”

You're breathing fast, wondering how long until this damn drug is out of your system.

“You never really what?" Bruce repeat, his voice soft and low.

“I never really had anything else. Anyone else.” It comes out, fast and heavy. “My father died when I was a baby, my mother was a damn drug dealer who made the mistake of tasting her product and I had to keep the few friends I had away from my messed up life and the only way to do that was to push them the hell away.” You feel dizzy, covering your head with both hands. “The more time I spent with Harley and her crew, the more I learned, the more fearless I became and the more they respect me. They feared me.” Why can't you stop talking? Your body isn't trying to get rid of the drug, but it's still absorbing it, making it run through your veins to fulfill its purpose. “I didn't need their kindness, their love, their affection because I could have their fear. I had them do as I said when I said it because they were scared of me. That's the only thing I know!” You're yelling, leaning forward to face Bruce. “I can't be rehabilitated because I don't even know what it's supposed to be like. People don't care about me and I don't care about them. People don't love me, and I don't love them. People aren't kind to me so I won't ever be kind to them. They only do something for me because I have a gun pointed at their faces or because they know I can snap my fingers and have them hurt. This is who I am! This is the mess, the chaos that I am and you're an idiot if you think you can fix me!”

You don't care anymore. You just need to get the hell out of this place. The key is in his pocket, so you attack him. You aim a punch to his face knowing he'll grab your wrist, and when he does, you use the opening to his stomach to kick him hard. You're thrown away, colliding to the side of the bed, but you don't stop to pay attention to the sharp pain on your side. Bruce is standing up now, but his size doesn't scare you. You've fought men like him before. You're used to have a gun, but being unarmed won't make you step down.

Using all your strength, you push his chest hard, succeeding to place a punch in his jaw. He doesn't move much, but it's enough to give you the opportunity to kick his crotch. But Bruce sees what's coming, kicking your leg away and from under you, what sends you hard to the ground. You lay on your arm, and a sharp pain spreads through your left shoulder. Your body isn't working as it usually does. It's slower, it's hurting... The damn drugs they gave you are wearing off. You need to get out of here before they're out of your system.

When Bruce steps closer, you move up to grab his arm, pulling him down as you kick both his legs with all the strength you still have. He collapses the floor beside you, and you take the chance to punch his face again.

“That's enough.” He yells, grabbing both your wrists with one hand, and a groan escapes your lips when he squeezes them to push them away from his face. You're moving to kick his ribs with your knee, but you're lifted up suddenly. You feel pure agony as you violently try to set free. Bruce uses his free hand to grab your legs and throw you on the bed. You're ready to set in motion again, but you're caught off guard by a wave of pain.

You start counting mentally. This is the second day here. It means three days ago you were in your cell, and you remember them injecting the medication. They still wanted you to sleep. But you also remember the slight discomfort that you started feeling a week ago. As if your body was more awaken then usual. It's not like they don't want you to be in pain, they just want you to keep functional, so you can endure more pain without being motionless in a bed for days.

“How long... How long did you have them reduce my drugs?” You ask him, catching your breath.

“Nine days.” He simply answers, fixing his clothes.

“I need something for the pain.” You touch your left shoulder with the right hand, closing your eyes shut. “Shit.”

“Let me see it.” Bruce comes closer, and you open your eyes to see if he'll try anything. He bends over, pulling the arm away from your body. You wince, biting back a groan. “A subluxation.” He pushes your shoulder back, and you hear a crack before a new wave of pain spreads through your arm.

“What the hell?” You exclaim, pushing him away with the other arm.

“It was just a partial dislocation of the shoulder joint. But it's back on its place now, you will be fine.”

“I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me,” you mumble, breathing fast, still holding your shoulder.

“Are you kidding me? Am I supposed to be let you beat me? Because I know what you're capable of.”

“Are you scared of me? You. Six feet tall, a mountain of muscles. What? Can't you take a beating from me?” He can. “I can take a beating from you, hero. I've been taking beatings for a year now, on a regular basis.” You have to push the memories away before they flood your mind. The numbness from the medication makes it worse since you're awake to feel the hit, but the body isn't. You know it hurts, that it'll hurt later, but you keep being hurt. Over and over again, non stop. “I asked them to stop once, during my first week there. Do you know why they were beating me that day?” You stand on your knees, holding your left arm close to your body. Your stomach burns and you feel tears in your eyes, but you hold them back. Tears won't get you anywhere, anger will.

“Because you attacked someone." Bruce seems so sure of it, that it makes you laugh.

“I demanded a coat. A damn coat because it was cold!” You're yelling, fighting back the tears, laughing instead. “I asked them to stop, big mistake. It only made it worse. From that day on I decided to just take it. To endure it because that's what I deserve.” Lifting your shirt to show him the bruises, you feel one single tear rolling down. “See this? I survived through every single one of these.” Why are you crying? You don't cry. Clenching your fist, you bring it against your ribs hard, and the pain that follows is greater than you expected. You gasp, falling forward.

“Stop it." Bruce takes both your wrists, pushing you to lie down “If you do this again, I'll chain you up.”

“Don't worry about me,” you mutter, smiling. “I can take this.”

“I don't care if you can take this, I don't want you hurting yourself.”

“I don't need to hurt myself, everyone else does it for me.” Your voice is weak, and you look away from him. Bruce let's go of your wrists but doesn't move. He's seated on the bed, right beside you.

“I know it's hard for you to understand it, but as long as you're here, nobody will hurt you. I won't hurt you.”

With a hand on your forehead, you avoid his stare. “If it was the other way around... If I kidnapped and kept you in a room, locked... You'd be scared too. You would know I was going to hurt you.”

“It's true. But I didn't kidnap you.” You feel when he stands up, watching as he pulls the armchairs back to their places. “I choose you because I want to help you. If this works, I might get you a pardon. You would be free.”

“I admire your hope, Bruce Wayne, but you just don't understand. I don't know how to deal with people anymore. The only relationship I know is the ones where I give an order and it is obeyed. Anything other than that doesn't exist. Not for me. I'm a criminal, I meant to be hated.” You're not proud of this, not now. There's a part of you, deep down inside, that wish it could change. If only you could go back in time and change things... But now it's too late. You are who you are, the person you built yourself to be. “Give up. Throw me back into Belle Reve before I get used to nice baths and comfortable beds.”

“I'll see you tonight.” He says before leaving the room, and you sigh to hear the door locking.

You're used to the loneliness. Turning off the lights and closing the curtains, you lay in the darkness. You follow the logic of Belle Reve. Since there's nothing to do, there's no reason to keep the lights on. Darkness is where you belong, they say, then live in it. And so you do.

You have a good notion of the time passing, so you count the minutes, one by one. There's no way to know where you'll be tomorrow, if Bruce will accept the fact that this is stupid and send you back. But maybe it's for the best.

No, you have to focus. An opportunity. This is an opportunity to escape, and you need to take it. You can't let anything else get your attention, or distract you. You have to use this chance to go back home. To the only dirty, cold place you can call that.

×

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21

[lurkingleighbee]

Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising (Chapter One - Chapter Four)

Heavy spoilers below! 

Chapter One

Space outside Chiss borders is known as “the Chaos”

Space is very difficult to navigate due to (according to legends within the text itself) a “series of chained supernova explosions” that sent a massive, chaotic chain reaction throughout the region, resulting “in the constantly changing hyperlanes,” hence the need for sky-walkers. 

The Chaos also holds “dangers... hidden worlds and tyrants who sought conquest and destruction.” Dun dun dun! 

General Ba’kif seems to be on the same level, intelligence wise, as Thrawn. It is a good pairing thus far. Zahn gets to show Thrawn being super smart and observant without it being too much. 

Excellent summation of Thrawn:

loves chasing down enigmas and working through puzzles

sees connection where others can’t/couldn’t

higher-ups don’t want him anywhere near them 

only sees the surface situation and misses the political subtleties

I like this Samakro guy. No-nonsense and straight to the point. 

Thrawn really is the only Chiss, really the only person, who talks the way he does. Making him stick out all the more. Who taught him to talk like that? Where did he learn how to talk like that? I need some more background on lil’ Thrawn! 

“subsequent death of Syndic Mitth’ras’safis and the loss of valuable alien technology.” 

don’t do that to us Zahn, damn 

Outbound Flight slowly coming back into canon, piece by painful piece (Thrass!! Lorana! C’baoth!?... we will have to wait and see)

Memories II

So, my first impression of sky-walkers is that they are like children caught in a messy, contentious divorce. At least in the case of Ali’astov, she is used like a pawn between fighting parties and kind of neglected until deemed useful again. 

world-building: sky-walkers abilities typically last until they are age 14

Thrawn is genuinely nice to kids/tweens and connects with them so well. That is really sweet. 

Al’iastov comes across as pessimistic and sulky but to be fair to her - she was taken from her home at a young age, lost her Third Sight ability, and is now being shunted to a new family. That is a lot for a 13-year-old. 

Chapter Two

Thalias joined the Mitth family because one person from that family showed her a bit of kindness. Yikes. 

Her early life suggests it was unstable at best - got punted around to different caregivers. 

And does Thalias have a crush on Thrawn or just a strong attachment? 

Good to see there is plenty of bureaucratic bullshit within the Ascendancy (I say, sarcastically) on top of the politics. 

who alerted Thurfian he needed to help Thalias? I have to assume they have systems in place for detecting this, but he came in at just the right time. 

So it had been two decades since Thalias “had to even read a military timetable”... so is she 33-ish? 

Thalias finds the sky-walker playing some sort of “tap-click game on her questis.”

Is that some sort of Chiss version of Angry Birds or Candy Crush?

Does this mean there are app/game developers within the Chiss workforce? Interesting... 

Che’ri - means “beloved,” “cherished,” “darling”, “sweetheart” in French

nearly 10 years old

odd comment: “sky-walkers tended to be on the short side.” What does that mean? 

had eight caregivers before Thalias shows up?! Dang. 

cute quote: “I am not supposed to talk like that about people.”

Yeah, just not in public! 

nut-paste sandwiches are now canon!

Thrawn must have been a cat in a past life because:

he is sneaky

he is quiet 

he has a hard time relating to actual people with few exceptions 

he needs constant care because if not, he will inevitably mess something up 

Ar’alani: Thrawn, what in the flying fuck do you think you’re doing?! Get back into formation!

Thrawn: reads the message, does not respond

this jerkwad. I love him. And poor Ar’alani, she has been dealing with him for years, if not decades! 

Ar’alani: Mind keeping me in the loop going forward?

Thrawn: mmmm... maybe. 

Thrawn: “I’ve had the protocols concerning preemptive attacks carefully and specifically laid out for me.”

Yeah, I bet you have. 

Samakro thoughts: “Just because the protocols had been laid out for him didn’t necessarily mean he’d listen.”

Protect Samakro.  

Memories III

Irizi’ar’alani - her full name. :) Had to give it up when she joined the military. 

Mitth family cannot be bothered to show up for their adopted son’s hearing. Eesh. 

Ar’alani has literally been saving Thrawn’s neck since their school days.

Ar’alani is good at reading a room, calling for backup when needed, and condensing/explaining information. No wonder she is a good leader. No wonder Thrawn relies on her! 

Chapter Three

Senior Captain Wutroow: “bogus. Totally bogus. Bogus to the ninth, factorial.”

I love her already

She and Ar’alani make a solid team. Ar’alani comes across more by-the-book and stately, whereas Wutroow seems a bit more loose and crafty. 

I am really enjoying getting to learn more about Ar’alani. Zahn wrote her so well. 

Again, the Mitth family letting Thrawn out to dry. Why adopt him then?! You can’t even help out your adopted son!?

Thrawn is known for being that fucking guy who loves art all the way up to the higher echelons of power. He is an outcast and the butt of a joke to his own kind. It’s funny and a bit sad (but mostly funny). 

Chapter Four

It makes me so uncomfortable that sky-walkers are told/encouraged to push on and on and on some more, despite the heavy toll on them. Reminds me a bit of America’s grind till you die approach to work and of the Soviet Union’s hard push to make everyone perform at impossibly high standards. These are little kids and tweens. Cut them some slack. 

Zahn really nailed down the sad/pathetic narcissism kids/tweens have at that age - everything is her fault, everything happens because of her. 

Get the girl some therapy, STAT. 

A bit weird that a 10-year-old girl needs a bath drawn for her, but maybe the overload spell is akin to a really bad hangover or the flu. You cannot function properly and need some help. 

Samakro got some sass. 

the chapter ending is so gold:

“You think there’ll be combat at the other end of this trip?”

“Thrawn’s there,” Ar’alani reminded her. “So, yes, I’d say that’s pretty much guaranteed.” 

Wince Count

I have noticed Zahn really likes to use the word wince, so I’m going to count all the times the word is used throughout this novel for sh*ts and giggles. Thus far: 5 cumulative uses of the word. 

[lia-jones]

Growing Stronger - Chapter Thirty-Six - Preview of What's to Come

It was the day before the big day! Saturday, March 21st. In twenty-four hours my last name would no longer be Jones, and I would officially belong to a new family, one Victor and I were creating for ourselves. A dream come true. I had butterflies in my stomach since I woke up that morning, I could only imagine how I would be on my wedding day.

Victor and I spent most of the day packing and making the last arrangements for our honeymoon. Our conjugal expedition would last a total of two weeks, which I thought was very ambitious, given LFG would be minus a CEO, but Victor was adamant that we took the time to ourselves, since we had been so busy the last few months.

“We need to learn to take time to ourselves.” Victor pointed out once again later that evening, while we drove to Aunt Terry’s ranch for the wedding rehearsal. “I don’t mean just you, me too. I have been solely focused on work for way too long. Our lives are changing, so should we.”

“You are not wrong, but I still think your no phone policy won’t last long. Eventually, Goldman will need something from you. Two weeks is a long time.” I frowned at him.

“At least just for the first three days. I want those to be just for us.” He turned down the familiar dirt road that led to his aunt’s property, stopping the car right at the entrance. “Ready?” He smiled tenderly. I took a deep breath, my heart starting to beat faster.

“Yes.” I nodded with conviction.

The dusky sky was getting darker, the fiery hues being replaced with dark ones, as we drove down the dirt road. It was like I was entering a fairytale. Every tree lining the road was covered in beautiful colored ribbons, and from them hung jars with flickering candles, lighting our way to the mansion. By the gates, two huge golden letters, V and A, signed the place of what would be called by the media the most important event of the year: our wedding. The gates and the walls by them were adorned with beautiful white roses and peonies, and huge lit candles were strategically placed by them, giving the whole area a whimsical atmosphere. The child in me was expecting to see fairies floating about,  like I was watching one of those Tinkerbell movies.

“I think it’s safe to assume you like it.” Victor gave me a smug smile. “You’re yet to say a word.”

I had helped plan some of the wedding, but the big plans were in Victor’s and the wedding planner’s hands, and Victor insisted on keeping some of it a surprise for me. When I looked at the man I loved, my eyes were brimming with tears of joy.

“It’s perfect.” I couldn’t help my wide grin. I was so happy. And seeing him grin back just as wide made things even more perfect.

As we entered the gates and I observed the garden, perfectly illuminated in the now darkening night, I felt my heart fill with joy and love. I was so distracted with my professional life, only awakening slightly to my personal one, that I completely forgot how romantic and magical Victor could be. This was clearly an ode to our love. It had the care and the tenderness I felt from him every day times a million. It was dazzling.

“This weekend, I want you to be surrounded by nothing but joy, beauty, and love.” He spoke with tender eyes looking at me, containing a million emotions, most of which I couldn’t decipher, but one was very clear.

Bernard met us at the door and we strolled around in the garden for a while, admiring in detail what we were sure we wouldn’t be able to the following day, while he showed us every aspect of the decorations. After spending some time with him, his English was starting to sound more normal to me, although peonies were still a serious trigger for my laughter. Noticing that it was getting late, we headed for the wedding venue. The officiant was already expecting us at the gazebo, along with my family and some of Victor’s family, which included his father, some of his aunts and uncles, aunt Terry and her partner, Susan. Gregory didn’t look happy.

The rehearsal was pretty simple, as we assume our positions, my father walking me down the aisle and taking me to Victor, and the usual exchange of vows that we chose to memorize instead of repeat. It was pretty uneventful, but of course, no wedding is a true wedding without a story to tell. And although this was a Lee wedding, held to the highest of standards, ours wouldn’t be an exception.

After we said our vows and pretended to exchange our rings, the officiant made the dreaded declaration that is always so popular in movies: If anyone has reason to be against this wedding, speak now, or forever hold your peace.

This part was so useless nobody was actually paying much attention. That is, until we heard a loud NOOOOOOOOOO coming from the end of the aisle. It turns out, it was Mia’s assistant, Minor, who was playing something on his cellphone and apparently was not having a great game. But that wasn’t actually the funniest part. Gavin, who was sitting by his side, got up ready to fall on him like a boulder, but not before Mia, red as a tomato, got up from Gavin’s side, smacked Minor hard in the stomach, making him double over and let out a loud ooofff.

Victor witnessed it with an expression that screamed What are these idiots doing now? To me, it was the funniest thing I had ever seen since blue penises. I stifled a laugh, noticing Greg watching us closely with judgemental eyes. But, truth be told, I knew what was coming, and I wouldn’t be able to hold it in. Pretending to show affection to my beloved future husband, I leaned my face against his chest, letting myself laugh a little. Noticing it, Victor rubbed my back.

“Quit it, Andrea.” He whispered between clenched teeth. I was lost. Victor’s reprimand only made me laugh more.

“Is she crying?” I heard Terry ask. “Oh, honey, there’s no reason to cry.”

“No.” I heard Victor’s voice, flat as a board. “She’s laughing.” He turned to me. “Ok, enough already. It wasn’t that funny.”

But it was. I replayed the entire scene again in my mind, picturing Minor’s face getting slightly purple with embarrassment and surprise, and tears started to come.

“The little woman…” I heard the officiant’s voice, strained as he tried not to laugh. “For someone so little she sure does pack a punch!” He let out a hearty laugh.

“Just like the bride!” My brother chimed in, laughing, and soon I could hear my parents laugh too.

They say there is nothing as contagious as laughter. One by one, all the guests present started laughing in unison. Even Victor, who was trying to keep it together, threw composure to the wind and was laughing too, his chest rumbling against my cheeks.

When, after some very long minutes, the laughter stopped and I was able to lift my face from Victor’s shirt, Gavin, Mia and Minor were nowhere to be seen, and Gregory was shooting daggers in my direction, a look of disgust on his face. The officiant was still wiping tears from his cheeks, trying to catch a breath.

“I have to say, in 10 years of practice, I have never heard a single objection, let alone such a heartfelt one!” He chuckled. “Well, let’s finish this practice. Does anyone else object to this wedding? If that’s the case, I think we can summon the little woman again!”.

I laughed loudly and the room followed me again. Victor gave the officiant a stern look.

“Skip that part tomorrow.” Victor instructed the officiant.

There is definitely no cleansing power like laughter. We left the rehearsal in good spirits, Victor particularly excited for the next activity.

It is customary for the groom to plan a dinner with all his favorite things before the wedding, usually during rehearsal dinner. My father and Victor were planning this for weeks, constantly talking on the phone or via Skype, constructing the perfect wine tasting dinner. Victor hired three renowned chefs to cook for us that night, one of them being his teacher Guy Sauvant, and some sommeliers to explain the wines and the pairings to the guests.

The decoration of the tent was truly Victor’s taste, and it somehow reminded me of old cellars and antique parlor rooms, intricate iron candle holders and dark velvet sofas and chairs, images of paintings everywhere, decorating the menus, hanging on the walls or in the background of the bars.

We sat and ate, and I noticed how relaxed Victor seemed to be around my family. Although we were trying to give both families the same attention, we would naturally gravitate towards mine, and Victor seemed to enjoy himself more in their presence, either engaging in light conversations with my parents, or laughing at some joke Joshua had made, or simply holding Ana on his lap when she demanded attention. He had clearly been adopted by the Jones, but it seemed he had adopted them too.

Gregory walked up to us while we were laughing about a story my father was telling from one of his trips.

“Greetings to the happy couple. It seems like my son has such a busy life nowadays that he doesn’t  have time to greet his own father.” Gregory shook our hands, his expression as dry as the desert.

“I was waiting for you to finish your meal.” I noticed Victor’s shoulder’s tense as he shook his father’s hand. “I hope everything was to your liking.”

“I can’t say I’m terribly impressed so far.” Gregory gave me a weird look and turned to Victor. “Make sure your fiancée shows a little more restraint tomorrow. We don’t want that ridiculous scene in front of our guests.”

“You mean your guests.” Victor kept his poker face but his ears became red, revealing his anger. “The people I know nothing about and yet you insisted I’d invite.” He gave Gregory a defiant look. “Moreso, please remind yourself that this is Andrea’s wedding too, and she is allowed to laugh as much as she wants, even if that is disagreeable to your guests.”

Gregory took a step further, ready to charge with some venomous words. I held Victor’s hand tight, anticipating a confrontation.

“Gregory!” My mother touched Gregory’s arm amicably. He looked at his arm and then at her, as if he was considering if he had been infected by something. “Have you tried the cherry wine my husband brought? Come, I’ll serve you some while we chat, I would love to know the father that raised this remarkable young man.”

Wise as always, my mother knew that a stroke of Gregory’s ego would be enough to divert his attention. The flattery made him quickly conclude she was worthy of his attention, and both walked away to get the cherry wine. Sitting by my side, Victor was fuming.

“It’s ok, let it go.” I rubbed his upper arm lovingly.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t want him here.” He mumbled, turning at me after. “How are you not angry? He basically implied you were some idiot I should control.”

“I don’t care what he says.” I shrugged. “Besides, he’s the real idiot if he thinks he’s going to ruin my night. You shouldn’t let him ruin yours either.”

Victor nodded, coming closer for a short sweet kiss. We heard a soft clink from afar. It was my brother, in the center of the room, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Good evening, everyone. For those who don’t know me, my name is Joshua, and I’m Andrea’s twin brother. If you are wondering if that is actually true, because I’m taller and better looking, yes we are twins, no, I didn’t steal all the food in the womb, and yes, despite being the second born, I am the best twin.”

Everybody, especially my family laughed, while I playfully stuck out my tongue to my brother, Victor chuckling with the both of us.

“Hmmm… So what can I say about the bride and the groom? I’ll start with the bride, since I know her since we were two fertilized eggs inside my mother's womb.” Josh continued. ”Growing up, Andrea was a tomboy, refusing to live up to her gender role, always defying the rules and sticking true to what she believed in. I remember at a relative’s wedding, we were eight at the time, she tore her dress trying to show some ‘snotty boy,’” he used air quotes, “that girls could climb trees just as well as boys. The dress caught up in one of the branches and ripped apart, as Andrea dangled happily in one of the branches, her underwear showing.” There was another wave of laughter in the room. “My mother was livid but didn’t ground her, because she did climb the tree faster than the boy, even with her dress tearing apart. And even though she now is a respectable lady of the elite, and such dress ripping habits are frowned upon, I am sure she will still be the Andrea I’ve always known, a small yet concentrated force of nature, defying everyone that tries to put her down and showing us all there can be incredible strength in adversity.” Joshua’s throat caught up with emotion. “I’m so incredibly proud of you, sis.” He turned to Victor. “Now what can we say about our CEO.”

“This should be good.” Victor spoke to me, his flat voice not matching the smile he had in his eyes.

“Perhaps our groom doesn’t know this, but we had heard of him way before the two started dating. The truth was, Andy originally didn’t like Victor very much. Well, that’s an understatement. Every time she referred to him, she used some very original terms. My two favorite still are “Lord Victor, King of Highhorseland” and “Victor Lee, the Slayer of Souls and Destroyer of Joy”.

Again, everybody laughed, including Victor, but he still gave me a dirty look. I could feel myself seriously blush.

“That was before I knew the real you, you know that.” I defended myself. He simply smiled and softly rubbed his nose against mine.

“But the mighty King of Highhorseland must’ve done something right and somehow convince damsel Andrea to ride with him because, to our surprise, he flew across the ocean for about twelve hours just to see Andy defend her thesis and… they seemed pretty intimate, if you know what I mean. And that’s when I found out three undeniable truths about my future brother in law: one, he is persistent, because I bet it was no picnic trying to woo this one.”

Victor shook his head and everybody laughed. Thank you, dear brother.

“Two, he is caring and extremely giving. He flew from a distant country, ready to face our family and Dr. Mariana’s thorough interrogation, just to make my sister happy. And by the way they held each other, the way she looked at him, she was. It’s obvious you make my sister very happy Victor, and I have to thank you for that. Thank you for taking such good care of her.” Joshua was misty-eyed again. “And three!” Joshua cleared his throat. “Victor is a very strong man. Not only did he date hurricane Andrea, he’s marrying her. Now seriously, I wish the best to both of you! Victor, welcome to the family!”

Everybody clapped and we nodded, thanking them for the applause and the best wishes, although it was more of a roast than a best wish speech. Either way, it was the way my brother would say I love you , through comedy and sarcasm, a mask not very different from the one Victor wore with his poker face. Goldman stood up, and took the mic from Joshua.

“Victor, Andrea, it is with great joy that I come here to witness your commitment, and what I believe is the beginning of a lifetime of happiness. I still remember the first day Andy came to LFG and thinking she wouldn’t last a day there. But she was a pleasant surprise, manning the desk in no time and impressing us all. Apart from some minor mishaps with a fountain pen.”

I looked at Victor with wide eyes, feeling like a burglar caught red-handed. Way back when, when I started my internship at LFG and was moved to Victor’s office, I accidentally broke his favorite fountain pen. It was a stupid accident, I unwittingly threw it to the ground while getting some documents from his desk and stepped on it. As I saw the ink spread on what seemed to be a brand new rug, my heart nearly stopped. Fortunately, Goldman entered the room, and, seeing the panic in my eyes, he swiftly exchanged the broken pen with a new one from his front pocket, and spilled coffee on the ink stain to hide my crime. And soon we were partners in crime, joined in a secret that, if revealed, would make Victor have my head.

It looked like it was time for my punishment. I just hoped the wedding would reduce my sentence.

“Stop acting so nervous.” He smiled at me. “I knew it was  you all along.”

“YOU DID?!” I was appalled. “How? Why didn’t you say anything?” He kept quiet this whole time, letting me live with the guilt?

“Unless Goldman was trying to poison me, coffee isn’t blue. And I could tell the pen I was using was brand new. After that, it was a matter of finding out who truly did it. The guilty look on your face the next morning was the final clue.” He came closer, pecking the tip of my nose. “I knew that if I mentioned you would feel bad, and most likely want to leave LFG again. I couldn’t allow that.”

I smiled at him, my heart warm for knowing he wanted me close to him since the very start. We turned to Goldman, who was still giving his speech.

“... a good man, with a heart made of gold. Yes, he may sometimes be demanding, but he is that way for the good of the company and to allow us to keep our jobs. And Andy has changed him deeply in that department as well, he’s very different from what he used to be. I mean, when I started seeing him so happy I started tasting all his drinks, fearing she was putting something in them.”

“WHAT?” I heard Victor shout by my side, making me laugh hard when I saw his disgusted expression.

“And I should probably finish my speech, if I still want to keep my job. Let’s hear it for the happy couple! A happy life for you two!” Goldman rushed to finish. Needless to say, everybody laughed.

After a few more shorts speeches, with guests wishing us a happy life, gushing about how Victor and I looked cute together, some more lively music started playing. Victor and I sat in one of the sofa’s bantering with my parents, his hand on my waist, holding me lovingly, while I occasionally nudged his chest with my head. Eventually, Terry and Susan came to sit with us.

“Are you enjoying yourselves?” Victor asked.

“Actually, I would like to thank you both for inviting me to the wedding.” Susan spoke. “It means a lot to us.”

“No need.” Victor answered with a frank smile. “My pleasure.”

“I’m just sorry I was so oblivious before.” I chimed in, slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t even invite Susan to my bachelor party.”

“It’s alright.” Terry took my hand, turning it. “I can predict a double date in the near future, after you are done honeymooning.”

“That will take a while.” Victor joked.

“What is this I’m hearing now? Terry’s assistant is invited? Is it the theme of this wedding to display the stains of this family for the whole world to see?” We heard Victor’s father say, behind us.

“I have invited them.” I stood up, facing him. “If she’s with your sister, she’s part of the family.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Gregory spat. “You are definitely unfit to be a Lee. You lack the decorum, the finesse-”

“Ok, enough.” My mother approached us, trying to lighten the mood. “We don’t want to start a fight here, Gregory, our kids are getting married tomorrow.” She paused, holding her hands up, urging us all to calm down. “Let’s all get some sleep, tomorrow we’ll all have a big day. Agreed?”

“Either she goes, or I go. You choose.” Gregory warned Victor. Victor was about to retort when my mother intervened again.

“Please, no need to choose.” She looked at Gregory warmly. “This isn’t about any of us, it’s about Victor and Andrea. Let’s get some sleep, come on. Off you go, guys.”

“Do you still think it was a good idea to invite him?” Victor sighed, frustrated, as we walked towards the house.

“Hey, stop worrying about it.” I held his bicep, squeezing it tight. “Tomorrow we will have the wedding and we will be too busy to even know he’s there, and he won’t dare misbehave with all the media around him. And after that, we will only deal with him if we want to. It’ll be over soon.”

“You are right. He will forget all about us the moment all of this ends.” He smiled at me as we walked in, heading to my bedroom. “Go get your things and come sleep with me.”

“No, we should spend this night apart.” I smiled, stroking his chest lovingly. “To make it more special the night after the wedding.”

“We’ll spend the night after the wedding on a plane to Paris.” He grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, luring me in. “Come sleep with me, I can’t sleep without you.” He kissed my neck softly, teasing me.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lee, but my answer is no.” I pushed him away playfully, only to get a sigh in response. “I’m saving myself for marriage.”

“You can’t even say that with a straight face.” He gave me a flat expression, which only made me laugh.

“I bid you goodnight.” I pecked him on the cheek. “Sleep well.”

Obviously, I wouldn’t get away with it. He pulled me against him once more, kissing me so passionately I had no choice but to melt in his arms.

“Fine.” He broke the kiss and let me go, chuckling when I slightly whimpered. “No, no, don't complain. My fiancée wants to sleep away from me and her wishes are my command. She shall sleep alone tonight.”

Later that night, alone in my bed, I was tossing and turning. Not only did I miss my bed, but mostly I missed Victor, his touch, his smell, his warmth. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. With a heavy sigh of resignation, I opened my bedroom door and left, taking my pillow with me. Time to get some sleep.

[geraltcirilla]

Your latest daisy/sousa gifset ? Gorgeous, is the quote you used from a showrunner chloe or is it like from someone in the fandom also ie agent carter, everyone was white like the two main female characters were right and so was everyone else, and I don't think it had anything to do with the time period there are shows set way before that are 1000% more inclusive like anne with an e or black sails also no lgbtq characters although that's an issue aos had as well

Thank you!! :’) The quote I used is from Maurissa Tancharoen from this interview with Hypable. I’ll go ahead and give you the entire Daisy portion of that interview because it’s filled with gold.

On the romantic side of things, Chloe Bennet (and several of her co-stars) couldn’t be happier with Daisy’s choice of Daniel Sousa as her partner.

“He’s so stable, and so supportive, and so willing, and so understanding of who she is,” Bennet says. “[Daisy needs] that kind of stability in her life, and that support. And I think it doesn’t hurt that he’s a strapping young man!”

“She has become such a kind of a power house, physically,” Bennet continues. “I love that he kind of brings her down to Earth a little bit.”

For Enver Gjokaj, Sousa’s relationship to Daisy’s power was a crucial factor in their developing bond.

“They don’t seem to have a lot of [things] in common,” he notes, “But the fact that he’s attracted to strong women, and that he’s worked with strong women in his past, and that’s who he is — I think that becomes the foundation for a relationship. The fact [that Daisy’s power is] not threatening to him at all, that that’s actually a positive, that… made total sense to me.”

“And [Gjokaj] played it with such a quiet confidence, and just you’re so grounded,” Bennet continues. “Sousa is so grounded in himself, and he’s not threatened by her as an entity and by Quake, and it actually finds it slightly amusing. which I think is really sweet, actually.”

Clark Gregg also expressed a certain relief at Daisy’s choice, which he feels reflects maturity on the part of friend and castmate Bennet.

“One of the things that happens, especially when you do play a character for 200 years as I have… is that the life and art blend together,” he says, noting that it was challenging to repeatedly “watch Chloe/Daisy go through these various things and get her heart broken, and have people die.”

So “to have Enver show up and create — recreate — the new version [of Sousa], dealing with different kinds of stuff, was just cool!” Gregg says. The character’s new incarnation on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was “tough. Not calling attention to himself. It felt so real, and I love so much what he did, and the way that [he and Chloe] just kind of quietly backed into this thing that everybody has been rooting for. [It’s] such a testament to their work in the chaotic final season, and how lucky we were to get Enver. It’s just facts!”

For their part, showrunners Jeff Bell, Maurissa Tancharoen, and Jed Whedon felt it was critical that their cast of female characters be seen as much more than partners in relationships, regardless of how matters concluded.

“They’ve had relationships [but] we never defined them by that,” says Bell. “But Daisy hasn’t had great luck in the past, bad things that happened or it hasn’t worked out. And so when Enver showed up, it was more than we could have imagined. We’d hoped that they would have chemistry, and the fact that it worked so well was great.”

Bell also observes that even more significant than the romantic developments was Daisy’s re-formation of a new kind of family for herself.

It was important, he says to let Daisy’s sister “Kora come over at the end and [give] Daisy family to continue. So it wasn’t just ‘Now I have a boyfriend!’ It was like she had a new unit. I think that was something that happened organically through the force of the storytelling that was a nice thing that we hadn’t foreseen.”

“The whole drive of Daisy’s character arc was, she was in search for her identity. She was in search for her family and where she came from,” agrees Tancharon. “And what she stumbled upon was new one, and so at the end, it’s very clear that she is actually starting her own little family in space, with the man she loves and her actual sister.”

I really love this interview and I’ve loved EVERY interview the cast has done post-series. I don’t think I’ve ever shipped a couple quite so beloved by every single cast member, even people totally uninvolved like Clarke Gregg and Elizabeth Henstridge. This interview was especially sweet because Maurissa confirmed that Sousa and Daisy are in love, which we all though but it’s nice to get the showrunners backing that.

//

Re: Agent Carter, even when it comes to the female characters Peggy Carter was the only one listed as main cast. Peggy, Jarvis, Jack, Sousa, and Dooley are main cast, Angie, Dottie, and Ana are credited as reoccurring. And Angie was only in s1 (she made a brief cameo in s2 in a dream sequence), and Ana was only in s2. Only Dottie was in both seasons 1 and 2 and she was a villain. So I don’t think I can even give Agent Carter credit for having white women in the show. It’s really bad if you can’t even have white women in your main cast.

Agent Carter had an issue with lack of women, lack of BIPOC cast, and lack of LGBT characters (like you said AOS also has that last issue). The writers of the show actually claimed at the time (because even back then people were calling them out for this) that they were just being “truthful to the time period”, which we all know is a crock of shit. As you said BIPOC and LGBT didn’t suddenly spring into existence in the 2000s and lots of other period piece shows include them as characters. 

Also as I said in my previous post, the writers have this unsettling need to woobify and coddle bigots because “they’re a product of their time” and the writers are constantly justifying their behavior and actions and trying to make them seem sympathetic. 

But not only that, the feminism felt incredibly shallow and performative.

For example, one of the famous “feminist” lines of the show was “I know my worth. Anyone else’s opinion doesn’t really matter.” Peggy said this after Jack Thompson took all the credit for her work and effort in s1. I remember at the time people were livid because that was a terrible message to be sending women and girls. It’s okay if a man steals your work so long as you believe in yourself...? No. Hell no. That’s not how society progresses forward. Peggy should NOT have accepted that outcome and should have FOUGHT Jack to demand he give her her proper credit. But she didn’t. She rolled over and took it, and we as an audience were supposed to applaud her for it.

Another “feminist moment” is when Sousa catches Peggy helping Howard Stark and the SSR think that she’s a terrorist. So after they arrest her they all take turns interviewing her and she calls them out, saying: “I conducted my own investigation because no one listens to me. I got away with it because no one looks at me, because unless I have your reports, your coffee, or your lunch, I’m invisible.” Except this isn’t exactly true. She wasn’t invisible to Sousa and she didn’t get away with it because he literally caught her. Since episode one Sousa was investigating a strange blonde-haired woman with a scar on her right shoulder who he believed was helping Howard Stark. That woman was Peggy. And he actually figured that out in episode 1x05 and tried to arrest in her 1x06. Given that this is only an 8 episode season Sousa knew about Peggy for almost half the season, but was hunting her for technically the whole season. How is that you being invisible? How is that you getting away with it? How?? 

Peggy continues and says: “You think you know me, but I've never been more than what each of you has created. [At Dooley] To you, I'm the stray kitten, left on your doorstep to be protected. [At Jack] The secretary turned damsel in distress. [At Sousa] The girl on the pedestal, transformed into some daft whore." This statement was also weird as fuck to me because Sousa never thought she was a whore, never called her a whore, and never accused her of being a whore, etc. When the SSR found out Peggy was helping Howard Stark they were trying to figure out why she would do it. A working theory was she was in love with him (a fair theory given Howard’s a bit of a womanizer and actually has hit on Peggy in the past). So Sousa (along with literally everyone else interviewing her) accused her of having an affair with Howard. But somehow only Sousa received that scalding drag, when technically it was true of everyone. Also how was he viewing her on a pedestal when he called her out all the time (during their “quirky banter”) and once again, investigated her for terrorism. Some pedestal huh. (This quote actually bugs me a lot because some people to this day will reference it as a reason to hate Sousa - “He was obsessed with her and then when he thought she was with Howard he called her a whore!” That never happened, that’s Peggy’s false version of events. I have eyes and a working brain and I watched the season myself and it’s simply untrue.)

Peggy will just say stuff that sound Cool and Empowering but if you break it down and analyze it, make no sense and mean absolutely nothing. It’s just cringey.

And let’s not even get in to the ableist implications of Peggy fantasizing about Sousa suddenly having two legs and being able to walk perfectly. That was her romantic vision of him. A version that could not only walk, but dance. Who throws aside his cane like it was just an accessory. Okay.

I really did not like Agent Carter at all (problematic stuff aside the actual plot sucked) but I watched the whole thing because I was a fan of Peggy Carter and Jarvis and I really wanted to make it work. When it was cancelled I didn’t cry about it, I was actually relieved I wouldn’t have to watch a third season. That show was just such a cringey, embarrassing mess.

Sorry for the long rant about it. It’s been a long time since I talked about this show and it still bothers me to this day because people reflect on the show so fondly and are still making petitions to bring it back as if it’s wasn’t a heaping mess.

Thank God Sousa was saved from that show. lol

Disclaimer to anyone reading this: Me hating the Agenter Carter show is not me hating Peggy Carter. Obviously I love my mans Sousa, and I also love Jarvis and Angie. I loved a lot of the characters and my issues with the show has to do with the showrunners and the writing.

[foolgobi65]

Lois/Clark + travel au + fake dating + “are you sure this is legal?”

again, its kind of a fake marriage and...also again....this is kind of the set up for the fake marriage scenario? i basically used this as an opportunity to write down a bunch of my lois headcanons for a period after superman reveal but before the get together lmao but i hope you still like it!! thank you so much for sending the prompt, i love lois sm and this was i think the first time i’ve really written from her (or actually written out lois and clark lol) so everyone please send feedback re: lois and clark characterizations!!!!

love u to the moon and back!!!!

---

“Clark, what does legal really mean, other than the things our government arbitrarily decided we’re allowed to do?”

Next to her, Clark rolls his eyes and Lois tries not to show the awe that briefly floods her body when she remembers that Superman is Clark is Superman is Clark, which means that when he responds to her quip, it’s not only as Smallville but as Kal-El, who she once named ‘the Man of Tomorrow.’ 

“Nice to see Libertarian Lois make an appearance,” Clark-El quips, and Lois nearly melts. It’s been about a month since what she, agnosto-sympathetic as she’s always been, termed in her own mind as the Revelation. Clark is Superman is Clark, she reminds herself as she always has to, to keep herself from running in as many directions as she can, vainly trying to outrun the fastest man alive. 

Being, maybe. Because he’s not really a man, is he?

Clark, Lois thinks again. Clark Kent from Smallville, Kansas. Son of Martha. Man, man, man. Lois is no fool to think that he could really be anyone else -- Clark, for all that he’s apparently lied to her, couldn’t possibly have lied about this. Superman had always seemed so aloof, so removed from the daily grind of humanity’s issues: sure, he’s saved plenty of cats up trees, but Lois had always wondered if he understood why those cats were so beloved, or worse if he saw humanity as the perennial cat constantly stuck up in trees of its own making. But she hadn’t known Superman, really, hadn’t thought she would be able to. 

Not like she’d known Clark. Clark, of the long-form article following the production of a single plaid shirt he’d been wearing on Monday during the week’s pitch meeting. Clark, who was always falling into step right next to Lois no matter where she was, or who she was up against, his heart the only one that burned like Lois when confronted with the nastiness of the world. 

Clark, who Lois has always considered the most human man she ever met. Clark who is somehow biologically, the least human man in the universe.

“Lois?” Clark’s voice is just slightly strained as if he can hear the thoughts scurrying round and round Lois’s mind, but no Lois had asked about that during those first few terrifying days when up had seemed like down and she’d felt like the shittiest investigative reporter since Arnab Goswami. Clark couldn’t read minds, not really, he’d said -- he could at most see the neurons firing (and wasn’t that a horrifying thought?) but he hadn’t tried to figure out a pattern. 

“But I don’t watch your neurons,” he’d said with what then-Lois had recognized as a hint of human-Clark, who she later realized was just-Clark’s shit-eating grin. “Your mind makes me dizzy enough when I’m just observing from the outside. Can’t imagine what would happen if I was trying to follow your thought process in real-time.” 

Now-Lois shakes her head slightly, unattractive like a wet dog. “Sure it’s illegal to impersonate a pair of massage therapists, but you’re an extraterrestrial traveler, Clark. Do the mighty dictums of the United States really mean that much to you?” 

She knows almost as soon as the last half of the sentence leaves her lips that it’s the wrong thing to say. Clark’s from Kansas, just like he always said. He was raised in Kansas, with Kansas values whatever the hell that means. Christ, she thinks, she’s never been so insensitive to an adoptee in her life. 

A month ago, Clark’s face might have crumpled. Two weeks ago, he might have thrown Lois’s insensitivity right back in her face. Today, though, his eyes only go wide for a second, right before Lois sees them glint with what she can only label as sheer Clarkness. It’s a near cousin of his shit-eating grin, that’s for sure, and if it makes her heart race with a little anticipation that between her, the universe and, if he’s listening, Sup--

Shit. 

But maybe Clark isn’t listening, too focused on what he’s about to say, because he plows on despite her heart rate. “Lois,” he drawls, “I don’t ignore the dictates of the United States because I'm an alien.”  

Oh for fuckssake. “Clark now is not the time to crib off of your much cooler mom’s actual anarchist credentials. You can talk as much theory as you want, but you were the one who just asked if we should continue our pursuit of justice based on legality.” 

Clark scoffs. “Perry suspended us for two weeks, and on day two you called me up and asked if I wanted to go on a vacation.” 

Sometimes, Clark’s whole Clark-shtick makes it so that Lois can’t tell if he’s actually hurt, or if he’s just fucking with her emotions, the ones everyone told him she’d long shot dead and buried behind the house, for his own amusement. She squints, leaning in a little closer to check for his usual tells, and there! Just at the corner of his lip, a slight twitch, so minuscule that no one but Lois could have found it. 

“You asshole! You were bored too!” Lois crosses her arms. “C’mon, would you really have been happy with a normal cruise, just floating on the ocean and wearing Hawaiian shirts while eating shrimp, no care in the world?” She raises her eyebrows, grinning like she’s trying to sell Clark a tub of Crisco. “Isn’t taking down the Mob just so much more exciting?” 

According to her therapist, Lois was never really in love with Superman. Lois was in love with the idea Superman represented -- a good man, powerful without the corruption she saw infesting those with power every day, a man so far above humanity that he was safe from the trainwreck that was Lois’ interior self. He could never really love her back, so Lois was safe loving him, never had to worry about her job putting him in danger or her tongue slicing him up during an argument until there was nothing left but his torn up suit. 

Clark, though, Clark was very real, her therapist said. Says, though Lois hasn’t been responding to her calls since the Revelation. She doesn’t know how quite to say “hey Doc, remember how we’ve been talking on and on about Clark and Superman, and how I have to ‘give up my illusion of safety in order to take a real leap of faith?’ Well, do I have a doozy for you!”  

But anyway, the point her therapist was making was that Clark actually knows Lois, inside and out. Probably better than Lois knows herself, at this point, and he loves her for it anyway. Because he does love her, Lois knows. Just like Jimmy knows, and Perry, and Lucy, and hell the guy at her corner bodega too who thinks that “that nice plaid-shirt guy you’re seeing, who comes in to buy you a whole dozen maple donuts before he picks you up, he’s gonna pop the question any day now Miss Lane!” 

Clark has loved Lois for a long time but never told her because Lois has spent almost the entirety of their partnership pretending to love Superman, afraid of being judged wanting by the only person in the world who could actually make that judgment in the first place. Clark loves her now, but Lois’ parents loved each other too once, and that relationship ended with her mom being just a little grateful that the cancer was actually going to kill her so that she wouldn’t have to put up with the General anymore. Lois knows that Clark thinks she doesn’t love him, that he thinks her love for Superman died in the fire of knowing that Superman was actually her bumpkin friend Clark, but for once she’s too afraid to report the truth. 

The truth, that all those parts Lois’ mother hated in the General -- his stubbornness, his arrogance, his inability to see anything outside of the scope of his gun -- Mad-Dog Lane has too, probably in equal measure. Clark isn’t her mom, but he too is kind, and gentle. Soft sometimes, in ways that Lois can’t believe he manages when faced with the horrors of humanity twice over. He’s her best friend, her partner, but if they added another step to their weird dance wouldn’t it finally be too much? Clark has parents who love him, makes friends easier than Lois can breathe, but Lois has only Clark. Maybe Perry, but even then who knows -- Clark might get Perry in the divorce since he can actually spell. 

“Hmm?” Lois shakes herself again, finally seeing Clark’s hand wave in front of her face. “Sorry, Clark.” 

He laughs. “It’s fine Lois, I was just saying something you’d probably have liked to hear so it’s probably best that you didn’t.” 

Lois clicks her tongue, rounding on Clark. “Well if it’s that I was right about you being bored after an entire two days off, then I don’t need to hear it. I already know I’m right and that’s good enough for me.” 

Clark rolls his eyes. “One of the precious few times you are, since this idea of yours is all sorts of wrong. Beyond the legal thing, which I will remind you, is a matter of having a massage therapy license that neither of us has and as such, cannot in good faith offer massages as part of our jobs as massage therapists.” Funny that Clark seems to have no comment on the whole “fake marriage” part of Lois’ plan. 

Lois brushes off his concern with what she thinks is aplomb. “See that would have been a problem for the Lois-of-a-month-ago, but today-Lois knows something that you apparently haven’t thought about!” 

“Oh?”

Lois beckons Clark closer, and because he loves her, he humors her by leaning in close. “See,” she whispers into his ear, “Today-Lois knows that her partner Clark has super-vision, and can see all those pesky muscle groupings neither of us knows about. Just talk to me in a language we know but the client doesn’t, and we’ll be all good!” 

Clark chokes. “You want me to...use my powers to aid in our...subterfuge?” 

Lois raises an eyebrow. “Are you seriously telling me that you haven’t used them on a story before?” That would be very Clark-like of him, she supposes, but on the other hand, the Clark she knows would never not use a resource to help break a story. And, just like she thought--

“No,” Clark says, flushing beet red -- I made Superman blush! Lois thinks and tamps down -- “No I have, but just not so....” 

“Planned?” 

“No,” Clark admits, “it was definitely planned.” He laughs softly. “Honestly, I think it’s that no one else has ever planned to use my powers, at least not as Clark.” Superman, of course, helps build millions of homes and launches nuclear waste into space: there’re entire forums where top scientists compete to see which of their ideas Superman can help them fulfill. And here Lois is, asking him to use those same powers so that they can fake being massage therapists to coax out leads from horny couples with connections to the Mob. 

She bites her lip, insecure in only the way Superman and Clark have been able to make her feel. Just figures that they were the same person the whole time. “Is..,” Lois swallows, “Is that ok? That I planned it?” Her eyes widen, sudden panic suffusing her body. “Ohmygod Clark, I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, or anything, I mean I definitely think your powers are cool but I love you for your mind first and fore--” 

Everything inside and out of Lois’s brain shuts off. Did she just--

Clark’s jaw drops, wild hope Lois doesn’t even think he realizes creeping into the corners of his eyes. “Did you just--” 

“I..” Lois’ brain is now entirely composed of those moments when your CD skips, no words, no feelings, just skips. 

And then, like the greatest gift and curse the Universe could possibly bestow at once, the Cruise Director’s door opens. “Hello,” she says, glancing down at the names on her clipboard and doing a double-take. “Bumpo and Geraldine McTungus?” 

[mysticmylifeisamess-enger]

As Regular As Clockwork

Pairing: Jumin/Reader

Word count: 3,365

Summary: Jumin is a man of many talents. Though saying no to you wasn't one of them.

A/N: So here was an art trade for someone since they mentioned on twitter wanting a fic of MC teasing Jumin with the cameras in his penthouse bc there’s plenty for Seven but not enough for him and my horny ass jumped at the opportunity because who am I if not a slut for Jumin Han

It should also be worth mentioning that this would be a good example of what you’d be receiving if you commission me ^^ here’s the info on that

Not safe for kiddos below the cut

When it came to work, Jumin was much like a clock. Precise in every action and gesture, punctual to any meeting he attended, and methodical, as if his every movement was timed. He’s often compared to a robot, but not even a robot, no matter how advanced it is, could be as meticulous as him.

He was also predictable to those that would observe closely. Anyone that sat down and watched long enough would pick up on just how he worked. Though there were very few people in his life who took the time to truly understand this pattern; a less than handful amount that truly understood the way he worked in, and even out, the office.

You, on the other hand, not only took the time to observe, but to even put to memory these patterns. He welcomed you into every aspect of his life and you took this as an opportunity to get know him beyond the things even he wouldn’t notice. At any given moment of the day, you could tell anyone what Jumin must be doing with almost perfect accuracy. Though the moments that always intrigued you were the ones where his attention was turned somewhere else.

From your observations, he’d look over the documents on his desk, mark down any revisions, place it in the outbox on the corner of his desk, and repeat the process for a few hours. At exactly 2:32 pm, in the midst of his work and 13 minutes short of his scheduled daily meeting, his eyes would glance over the monitor on his desk— open to the CCTV in his penthouse— and smile to himself to see the white coat of his beloved pet before he continued onto his pile.

It made you wonder just how he looked at the screen when you weren’t around and instead on the other side of it. Did his gaze linger just a bit longer? Was his smile just a bit wider at the thought of seeing his loving partner? Or would he even look at all, considering the original intent of this camera was to watch after Elizabeth? But what you really wanted to know was whether you could use it to break that precious, commendable concentration of his.

His greatest gift, what truly made him the heir extraordinaire that he is, was how steady his focus could be. It was a little shaken up at your arrival, but he was able to manage after a while, finding you to be the new center of his focal point. You always admired this about him, a trait that he fully used to learn everything about you in no time, especially when it only seemed to heighten once you two became intimate.

But to find a weak spot, a vulnerability in his everyday flow that you could easily pervade proved to be your hardest task as a spouse yet. Weeks on end and you had yet to see an opportunity.

Until one morning. One morning that you woke up to find his grasp on you just a bit tighter than usual. His every word as you two had breakfast together had an underlying need to it. And the usual goodbye kiss you sent him out the door with seemed much more covetous, tugging at your bottom lip as he pulled away and leaving you weak in the knees at his departure.

‘Bingo,’ you thought to yourself, biting back the devious smile that threatened to spread.

~

The end of his pen tapped against the desk incessantly, fidgeting with it between his fingers every once in a while before they signed away at a document and repeating the process. It was unlike him to be so restless, as if his hands couldn’t stay still and needed to find some sort of occupancy to them.

His usual three-piece suit felt much more restricting than usual, shifting uncomfortably in his seat every so often. His hand constantly found its way to the tie around his neck, loosening it just a bit every time. It made him wonder whether they were dry-cleaned correctly or if he had hit some sudden growth spurt at 28.

Every sound behind the closed doors of his office seemed much louder than they actually were, testing at his patience at every little tick. In particular, the wall clock that hung above the door sounded as if it was right in his ear, ticking continuously with no end in sight.

And in all these subtle nuances, you happened to sit on the forefront of his mind. With every thought, every scenario his imagination would drift into, and every bit of semblance he’d fixate on, his restlessness would only get worse.

It started innocently, wishing he could have convinced you to come along for the day. Your presence sitting patiently on his office couch, getting up occasionally to plop on his lap and give him a quick kiss. Your fingers carding through his locks as they always did. Lips moving from his to the corner of his mouth, pressing along his cheek slowly until it was just under his jawline. Lingering for a second until your tongue darted out to press a wet kiss on his neck, shifting to straddle him between your legs.

The pen in his hand snapped in half, bringing him out of his thoughts. Luckily, it was a simple bik pen— plastic and disposable compared to the others that sat on his desk. A frustrated sigh passed his lips, throwing the pen away as he noticed the time on the clock. 2:31 pm, 14 minutes before his scheduled group meeting and right on time to glancing at the CCTV for a quick revival in energy.

Sure enough, he saw his lovely cat perched on the cat-tree and sleeping soundly, smiling softly at the sight. His eyes then went to scanning the rest of the room for your presence only to see nothing, demeanor falling just a bit at that. He had hoped to see you, to sate this need of his with simply knowing that you were home and waiting for him.

Just as he was about to close it, he saw you walk into sight. Slow, precise steps as you walked through the space, silk robe lazily draped over your figure and coming off your shoulder. Intrigued, he continued to eye you as you sat yourself on the living room couch, getting comfortable right within view. Your hands went to the tie around your waist, undoing it to reveal the lingerie you had on underneath— a lacy two piece he carefully chose for you— and he felt his breathing hitch at the sight.

He pondered whether he should be spying on you like this, but his eyes just couldn’t seem to tear from the screen; absolutely enamored by every curve and dip of your skin he could see. Before he could even think to close out, your legs spread apart in plain sight of the lens and your eyes flicked between the phone on your side and up to meet his own.

Your hand slid between your thighs and rubbed tight circles over your panties, the other hand coming up to your chest and pinching the pert bud over your lacy fabric. You were clearly moaning, head thrown back in pleasure. He could only imagine the sounds you were making, his hand moving down to palm over his pants at the growing erection.

His other hand moved to the phone on his desk, quickly dialing your number and pressing it to his ear. Leaning back in his seat, he could see your phone light up and the small smile on your features as you went to pick it up.

“Hi honey,” your voice answered on the other side, punctuating your words with a breathy moan. He could see the sly grin on your face deepen as your hands still clearly rubbed over your panties, biting your lip before you continued, “Weird of you to call in the middle of work, what’s going on?”

He knew your teasing tone all too well, smirking to himself at your faux innocence. It was endearing to see you act so ingenue when your actions were so contradictory. Though he decided to play along, wondering just how long you could keep up this front.

“I thought I’d check up on my dearest,” his voice low and sultry “Make sure that you’re behaving.”

“Well,” you paused, emphasizing the silence with a drawn out gasp as he watched your fingers drag over your sensitive nub, “I can assure you that I’m being very good.”

“Is that so?” he asked, though you could hear the upturn of his lip, “And what exactly are you doing?”

“Thinking about you.”

At that, he couldn’t fight the low, breathy chuckle that reverberated in his chest, his hand moving from his clothed shaft to the buckle on his belt. Just as he tugged on it, a knock at the door startled him up straight, coughing between a ‘yes?’ to hide his previous tone. To hear how flustered he was only encouraged you to moan against his ear throughout.

He quickly composed himself, putting on a poker face as the door opened slightly only for Jaehee to pop her head in. The only evidence of his previous actions was a flushed face that only grew deeper to hear your lewd sounds on the other side.

“Mr. Han, I apologize for interrupting, but you have a meeting in 10 minutes.”

“Assistant Kang,” he started, steely gaze moving between the monitor and door, “I’m taking care of an urgent matter at the moment. If I’m not out in time, apologize on my behalf and assure them that I’ll be there soon.”

From his peripheral, he could see you stripping the layer you had, baring yourself to the camera as you continued your ministrations. His cheeks deepened in color at this dirty little secret and he was thankful that only he could see.

“Alright, I will, just please don’t keep them waiting long,” she said simply before closing the door behind her.

“Yeah Mr. Han, don’t keep them waiting,” you teased, drawing out your words and eliciting a low groan from him.

“Then you’re going to have to do exactly as I say,” his voice as commanding as it was deep, hand moving to undo his belt in one fluid motion.

“Oh,” you mused, “And who said you could take the lead on this?”

He let out another small laugh, amused at this change in character.

“Am I supposed to ask for permission?” his words sturdy in their silent demand, but hitching as his member met the cool air. You couldn’t see it, but you could imagine the smug smile on his face.

“Well no, but I thought it’d be nice to have the upper hand for once,” he could see the pouty expression on your lips and he couldn’t resist, not when you looked so enticing.

“Alright,” he finally said, “Whatever it is you desire of me, I will gladly do it.”

“Good,” you said just above a whisper, watching as your expression shifted to a sly smile, “Take a picture for me.”

“A picture? Of what exactly?” he questioned, obviously baiting for a specific response.

“Well I don’t think it’s fair that you can see all of me so clearly,” you continued, emphasizing your words with a drag of your fingers over your thigh, “Shouldn’t I get a peak too?”

“If that’s truly what you want,” his grin deepening, “Then your wish is my command.”

To see your simper smile and body writhe slightly at his words made him bold. He found it all too entertaining, not only that you were able to get him to do something so lewd and so out of his character, but that he would hand the world over to you on a silver platter if he could and that this was what you wanted. You wanted to see him, to have an intimate reminder of just what you do to him. And he was more than happy to indulge you.

He moved the phone against his ear to navigate to his camera, pointing it towards his view. One hand holding the base of his shaft while the other snapped a picture and sent it your way. The tinge of embarrassment would have taken over had he not heard your impressed gasp, seeing you smile as you gazed at your phone.

The picture itself wasn’t entirely steady in true Jumin fashion, but you could see every little detail that practically made you water at the mouth. The precum glistening and dripping from his tip, plump and reddened head you knew had to be sensitive to the touch, and every ridge and vein taut and outlined perfectly. Though the most impressive had to be his length— long, thick, and sturdy as it stood fully erect. Your digits truly couldn’t compare, thrusting them into yourself as you imagined his cock in its place.

“I’ll assume you’re pleased with the photo,” he said watching you closely, though you could pick up the hint of smugness in his tone. To see you trying to find purchase, uttering his name between gasps, he felt a bit of pride swell in his chest. The hand around his base gripped and slowly stroked, letting out a low moan to let you know exactly what he was doing.

“Very,” you teased back, “You have a lot to be proud of, Mr. Director.”

“Really?” he purred, thumb circling his tip and spreading his precum, “I could say the same about you.”

“The only thing I’m truly proud of is how hard I’ve made you,” your words practically dripped like honey as he hung on to every syllable, languid strokes timed with your own movements.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” you asked, catching him off guard, but that didn’t stop him. You could hear his labored breathing, the small moans that rippled out at your words, followed by a small, confident chuckle.

“And if I was?”

His words almost seemed like a challenge. A test to see how long you could keep up this act, to see how long it would take until you handed control back over to him as he desired. But that wasn’t something you could easily give up, especially not now and especially not when you practically had him at the palm of your hand.

“Well I just didn’t take you for someone that would do that in your own office,” you offered, a faux shock in your words.

“It just makes me wonder what you would do if I was there. If I just happened to be under that desk right now.”

At your words, his mind quickly went to the vision of you on your knees below his desk. Letting out a low groan, he couldn’t help but imagine your hand taking his place. And to hear your name under his breath had you biting back a wide grin.

“If only I could be right there, between your legs,” your words egging him on to increase his pace, breathy moans accentuating your pauses, “Tasting every bit of your cock, tongue sliding up from base to head until I’m taking it all in, gagging at your every thrust. And lapping up every bit of your cum once you finish.”

His head lulled back at your graphic descriptions, relishing in every little detail with a low groan. You truly had a talent for riling him up like you were and using something as simple as his imagination to drive him wild.

“But what I truly want is to be sprawled on your desk, completely on display for you. Having your way with me the way you always do, my nails raking down your back as you thrust into me over and over,” your eyes closing shut as if you were just imagining it, “Your hands pinning me down in place until I’m begging to touch you again.”

The pumping of his hand increased to a brutal pace, hips jerking up meet it. He tried to suppress his moans, but it was no use, letting them slip much like his restraint.

“And to call out your name, loud enough for the entire office to hear so they know just who is pleasing me so well, who I truly belong to,” you half-whispered, following it with a small laugh to hear just how ready he was to collapse with every gasp he sucked in through gritted teeth.

All the images you painted in his mind had him reeling, thinking of how truly unfair this current situation was. He could only watch as you touched yourself from afar, unable to provide the touch and feel he was longing for. And all while your voice teased him from the opposite end of the line. When agreeing to this, he gave you an inch and you took a mile before he could even realize.

“MC, you’re walking a fine line,” he cautioned, though the broken moans that followed his words had made you dauntless. You knew exactly what he meant by that, but it didn’t stop your almost taunting demeanor.

“And here I thought that you’d do anything I desired,” you pouted, feigning an innocence he could see right through. He knew you had a point, he did hand power over to you, but he didn’t realize just what it would do to him. How incessantly you planned to bait him or how badly he wanted to see you wriggle under his own control.

But he couldn’t quite deny how much he loved it. And all he wanted right now was a release; entirely deprived of your touch but needing just that bit of release.

And there was something incredibly pleasing about hearing just how desperate he was for you. The coveted heir-to-be on the other line—  a successful, educated, and completely composed man who is constantly commended for his strong will and unwavering focus— was a complete moaning mess that found himself aroused with your every word and every action. He was practically subservient to anything you asked of him and you wanted nothing more than to give into just what he wanted, knowing he was so close.

“Come for me,” your words just above a whisper, but firm in their command.

His eyes squeezed shut, feeling the coil in him tighten with every unrelenting stroke. His body jerked forward a bit at the oncoming release, writhing in pleasure as he called your name breathlessly. The internal clock he solely depended on had practically stopped without a care, instead focusing wholly on you.

It didn’t take long for him to unravel, letting out a strangled moan as the warmth in the pit of his stomach burst. His cum spilling and collecting in his hand, body in tremors as he came down from his high and leaving him a disheveled mess. His shallow, ragged breathing the only sound between you two.

Your own movements had slowed down, almost coming to a halt as soon as you noticed that he had reached his breaking point. Looking back up at the monitor, he could see the sly smile form on your face before you broke the silence.

“Look at that, 2:44. Right on time for your meeting, looks like I’ll have to leave you here. Good luck dear, I love you,” you practically chimed, a complete 180 from the previous few minutes. And before he could find the words to respond, you quickly hung up. From the camera, he could see you throw your robe back on, blow a kiss to the camera, and saunter off and out of sight.

He sat at his desk, completely dumbfounded and mouth hanging in confusion. You had practically left him a mess, both physically and mentally, and he loved every second of it. Though it left him completely depraved without truly sating his previous need for you. In fact, it made him much more worked up. And the only thought running through his mind was just how he was going to punish you for this as soon as he gets home.

[stormhawksplanb]

Alphabet Headcannon With Nova and Stork!

(I know I said I wasn’t gonna turn this blog into a romance between Nova and Stork but people are requesting me to do Alphabet challenges so here- List created by @houndofjustice-imagines​ <3 )

A for Arguments - How often do you two argue? Who apologies first? How do they make up? etc

They rarely Argue unless it’s over something that was miscommunication. Who ever misunderstood is usually the one to apologize first. But Stork has a bad habit of avoiding, and giving Nova the silent treatment when he’s mad, or thinks she’s done something that hurts him. This usually ends in her having a break down, and him feeling guilty. The after effect of this can continue for a couple days, and it makes everyone on the ship concerned.

B for Bedtime Routine - Do they prefer to be the big spoon or little spoon? Favorite sleeping position? etc

Nova likes to curl up and cuddle his side, usually with one leg over his waist. This is usually what happens when stork wants to have a personal furnace since she gives off a lot of heat. He will sometimes pull her closer onto him and surround them in blankets. If it’s too hot stork will get on top of her with his arms tucked under her back.

C for Cook - Do they cook? Can they cook? What type of food do they like to cook for their partner?

Nova is trying to teach him to cook, and it’s not going well. She winds up doing most of the cooking, and he’s doing the cleaning up part. Stork will also try and eat the food in the process. Even if it’s something like cookie dough. Nova tried to stop him by pointing out how he could get sick from eating raw eggs and he’ll shrug it off. “At least I’ll die happy” or a “It’s slightly romantic and twisted if I die from you’re cooking.” is usually his retort. Stork can’t cook. But he can kind of bake, or make french toast.

D for DIY - Do they like to make gifts for their partner? Are they good at general DIY around the house? Do they enjoy doing it?

100% They both do it, but not all the time. Usually if one or the other is upset or depressed they’ll make something silly, or charming to cheer the other up. Stork tries to teach Nova about mechanical stuff, but it usually doesn’t stick, word wise. She can do the thing, but can not explain it nor keep the technical terms. They both enjoy it and stork likes the sensation of being proud whenever she randomly pulls his little tricks out of her hat and shows off. They both have a habit of buying random junk to try and fix anything broken. It’s ‘quality’ time for them, but it’s really just an excuse for them to be together without drawing too much teasing from the others.

E for Effort - How much effort do they put into their relationship?

It’s 100% give and take. They’ve both been in pretty rough relationships with other people, friends and/or potential lovers, and they both have trust issues. Even though they seemingly get along like their already married, they made a rule to be honest with each other. The only one who struggles with it is Nova. She likes to keep things bottled up because she thinks her high energy will scare him off. Stork on the other hand is sensitive to this and thinks it’s because she doesn’t want to put in the effort. They eventually clear this up and things start to go smoother than before. Every now and then one of the other storm hawks will catch them sobbing or consoling each other, and will let the others know to give the couple some space for a bit.

F for First Date - Where do you go on your first date? How does it go etc?

They didn’t have an official date until they became official, which was a really weird, slow, conversion of just silently accepting each other. It just kind of happened, but once it was agreed they’d be official, and tell everyone, Stork woke Nova up in the middle of the night to show her the migration of the shimmering locus (a locus that’s wings are covered in colorful crystal dust) that was feeding on the flowers on Terra Fauna. He also brought with him a late night snack. Nova declared it, be accident, as “The best date I’ve ever been on” while slowly falling asleep again. Stork silently agreed and that’s what they considered their very first date. It was a quiet, and soft date.

G for Gifts - What kind of gifts do they gift their partner? What kind of gifts do they receive? etc

Stork recently build a glass case for her gifts, and has sacrificed space on his wall for her drawings. He’s even got a few of her doodles he’s stolen from her sticky note pads and stuck them to the fridge. Nova has a jewelry box contained of the little gadgets and chokers stork makes her. Jewelry is her biggest weakness, and he 100% knows if it’s got little moving parts or shiny things she can fiddle with, she’ll be over the moon about it. There is the occasional buying of the gifts, but that’s usually books, or something they other really wants, or needs. Examples are: Nova hunting down and buying stork that Brain worm helmet, or stork catching glimpses of dud crystals or crafty related things he finds at a cheap price since Nova already has enough time making profit off of commissions.

H for Honeymoon - Where do they go on Honeymoon? Details on the honeymoon etc.

They spent their Honey moon during one of Terra Merbia’s Blackout Festivals. Once a year the Terra’s storms stop completely and the sky becomes engulfed in colorful rays from the crystal energies, and it covered everything in saturated blended colors. Stork never got to see it due to the damage caused by war, and him running off into the waste lands. Both Stork and Nova cried that night, but it was happy tears. The rest of the week they spent just being together. One day they almost forgot to eat breakfast because they were both physically, and emotionally tired, but in a good way. They were just in a lazy mindset.

I for Intimacy - What do like they like? Where do they like to be intimate? Are they experienced etc?

Both virgins, and when it comes down to where and when, it’s in privacy and with no one around, and as little chance of getting caught. On the rare occasion they can’t get ‘alone time’ on the ship they will go camping, or out to a Bed and breakfast to get away. They will also take the opportunity as soon as the others fly off for training or a mission. When they do have intimate moments it’s usually planned, and sometimes it has nothing to do with sex/making love. Most of the time it’s them just being in the same room reading, or being goofy. Stork and Nova have the most fun when they act out old fashion plays.

J for Jealously - How jealous are they? How often do they get jealous? How they react? etc

Stork is a long distance jealousy guy. Nova becomes unwanted pray. He’ll observe his dark beloved from afar. If he sees anything he doesn’t like, or if Nova seems uncomfortable he’ll swoop by and come up with some bizarre excuse to take Nova away from the situation. Nova is the type of jealous that will wait to be alone and breakdown and cry if she thinks she’s endanger of losing stork. This usually ends when stork realizes she’s been avoiding her. She gets better about expressing it after a while.

K for Kink - Do they have any particular kinks?

Yes. Funny thing is it’s constantly changing. Neither of them like lewd kinks, it’s usually just small things that make it more sensual. It could be the way one of them moans, or wiggles. Nova, however, enjoys sensitive play after her climax, and it’s especially a turn on when Stork holds her wrists above her head. He does it so firm, but loose enough to where she knows she can stop him if needed. Storks kink is the aftermath of their passion. He likes it when she twirls his piercings or lightly scratches behind his neck, and ears. He has one kink he’ll never admit to her about, but it flips a switch in him when she snorts, so yes, he tries to get her to laugh during sex, and knows exactly how to do it. And if he times it just right with her release it’s his favorite sound in the world.

L for Long Distance - How do they cope with Long Distance? How they prefer to keep in contact? etc

They don’t keep in contact when they’re apart. They are both really good when it comes to being on time when leaving, and coming back. They love each other dearly, but they aren't dependent on one another. They can still live their lives so long they know they’re ok and safe. They might send a carrier pigeon to be like “I made it, but there’s a chicken and it wants to eat my noodles” Usually light hearted letters. Stork keeps those in a box under his bed to read when he does miss her. Nova is usually so busy when she leaves the condor she usually forgets, but she makes sure to carry something to cuddle when she gets lonely. When they return, it’s over the top and dramatic. Mostly to annoy anyone within ear shot. A few attempts of foreplay, or reunion sex is attempted, but it’s rather quick, and they try to be as silent as possible about it. The others, of course, don’t know where they went for those handful of minutes.

M for Marriage - Do they want to get married? Their wedding etc.

They never really thought of getting married until one day a letter from Terra Merbia came saying stork was to marry someone else. It was just a miscommunication, stork never told Nova, and then proceeded to give her a heart attack after proposing to her once he realized he ‘Didn’t want to give any other person the chance to taker her away. Even if that makes him selfish- he’s only selfish for her’. It was a traditional Merbian marriage. Yet with Nova around there was a few tweaks. Stork was grateful of the whole ‘The groom’s outfit is practically a dress, and that ain’t happening’ edit Nova made. The ceremony usually starts out with announcements of the soon to be married lives, written by their family or friends. There’s also, a rather potent, drink they both take a sip from, to signify their willingness to sacrifice and share in hard times. Nova cringed at the taste and it made everyone giggle. The thing that ties the knot is the drawn lines painted on their wrists, to signify their unity as one and their effects on each other. No two symbols are the same since it’s a one time, improvised moment. Stork gave Nova a heart with a sideways infinity symbol, and Nova drew a tight swirl that had A large dot leading to a smaller dot going out towards the end. Merbs are not an outwardly intimate species, all that stuff is saved for in the bedroom just because Merbs are the type to be quiet and keep to themselves to avoid conflict. So any kissing or anything too ‘show offy’ is out of the ceremony, but not unwelcomed. Merbs are also pretty understanding and relaxed about their won rules, given it won’t get anyone hurt, or killed.

N for Night’s Out - Where do they take their partner on nights out? How often do nights out happen?

Night outs happen whenever they get the chance. The others leave for a week to screw around- I mean train with the Absolute Zeros? Let’s take a much needed nap, and drink coffee out on the deck. Stork will have something planned for them as soon as he catches whiff of a vacation. they travel off during vacations and the others just know better to not go looking for them.

O for Often - How often do you see each other? How many times a week? etc

Well they live on the condor together, but know full well not to be too clingy or else they get bored and wind up doing whatever. It’s actually pretty simple the way they function. Eventually it just all becomes a comfy habit to do what they want when they want, and if either wants attention they are more than allowed to seek each other out.

P for Public Displays of Affection - Do they like PDA? Do they have boundaries etc.

Stork surprisingly shows more PDA than Nova. Mostly due to the fact he enjoys embarrassing her when ever he gets the chance. Much play fighting btw. Nova is more spontaneous, and usually only shows her PDA if he’s been close to death, Stork gifts her with something neat, or get excited, and uses him as an outlet. Other than that it’s a game of who can sneak more kisses with out anyone seeing. This makes for some interesting teasing when caught. Stork is currently winning, 32 to 12. The count starts over when wolf whistles are heard, or the “aawwwww” comment is made. Stork has a high score of 456 kisses.

Q for Quiet - Why do they get quiet? How does their partner solve it?

Nova gets quiet when she get depressed or over stressed. Stork kind of just, suddenly realizes it and doesn’t care how long it’s been, he just wants his overly excited, bouncy nova back. This will probably end in a sob session if it’s something close to heart, and if not a cuddle session or a mini nap. When stork get’s quiet it’s usually because of frustration, or if he decides to overwork himself. He will also go quiet all day if he has flashbacks, or night terrors from the war. No one else realizes this, but Nova suffers from those things as well, but get’s over it as soon as it comes. Stork likes to beat himself up. And these always end in sob sessions because he’s so sensitive. Thankfully all it takes is a few minutes of back rubs, and ear kisses to get him back to where he needs to be. Nova’s narcissistic, pessimistic, oddball self.

R for Reunion - How they like to reunite with their partner?

Dramatic. Very dramatic. They do it to annoy the others, and Nova gets the most kicks out of it. But later on there will be lots of cuddling, and kissing. Sometimes they go further than that, but keep it on the down low. Stork will 100% try and break Nova at least once in the more intimate moments. He’ll only stop once he gets at least, one sound from her.

S for Surprise - Do they like surprises? What kind of surprises do they like to get etc?

Nova loves it, and stork only likes it in the form of food. Fried Merb cabbage and mushrooms is his favorite. Nova likes it when stork comes from behind her and hugs her, those are the best surprises. It’s even better with a light bite of her upper cartilage ear piercing. so long there’s no earring. Stork choked on one of her backings once so he’s more careful about it.

T for Texts - How often do they text? How do they react when they receive texts from their partner?

Changing this to messages, but Nova likes to paper air plane drawings and little “You did an awesome job! Show the enemy no mercy!” notes for stork to chuckle at. Stork, on the other hand, loves leaving her poetry. Dark, sexual, playful, romantic or ironic poems. Stork has her wrapped around his finger in whatever mood he wants to see from her with his writing and takes 100% pride in it. If he wants something specific from her he knows how to get it. But doesn’t care if she says no.

U for Unity - How well do they work with their partner? Do they make a good team?

Deadly team. Don’t be at the wrong side of the dagger if you piss off , or hurt, either of them. They have that stupid, unspoken understanding with each other. It’s more of a “do you have an idea” look, followed by who ever nods first is the leader, while the other is the back up to make sure the ‘leader’ stays unharmed. There was one time Dark ace fucked stork up pretty badly and if it wasn’t for The others showing up, and accidentally giving him an escape route, Nova would have killed him.

V for Vacation - Favorite vacation spot to take their partner?

Nova likes being taken to Terra Neon, but mostly for the games and plays at the theater , which they both enjoy. Stork also showed off his skill on the bull ride to Nova, and it was one looong night after that. Stork likes going to Terra Fauna for a vacation. Simply because it’s a nice refreshing place to just be lazy with Nova. They have a wicked nice hiding spot when ever they wanna ‘get it on’. It’s a little cave that has glowing water that shimmers when the moon hits it, and they try and go there when ever they pass by the Terra. Needless to say the spot was picked out because Nova really likes the reflection of the colors, and will get distracted, giving stork the opportunity to give her little nibbles and surprises.

W for When - At what point do they move into together? What kind of place? etc

Welp- Nova was originally just bumming a ride from the storm hawks but due to wanting to learn to be a sky knight ‘from the best squad ever’ she got stuck with them. It started to become more and more permanent when Nova learned that her home Terra was slowly becoming inhabitable. She was then slowly taken on as a storm hawks because no one wanted to say goodbye. Nova even saved Aerrow a few times and got major points for it. Stork was happy, and it showed, when she was written down in the books at Terra Atmosia. He even cried a bit, and then she started up.

X for X-ray - What is their favorite body part on their partner?

Stork loves Nova’s hands, and feet. Not like as in a fetish, it’s just she’s so small, and her hands and feet are just as tiny. also he sometimes does this weird ‘foot holding’ with his feet and hers when they play footsie. It’s not ever really discussed, and it just happens. It mostly happens because her feet are her tickle spot, and he loves her silly snorting. Nova is over the moon about storks ears. If his ears twitch, or droop, chances are you will get a verbal response from her. Stork doesn’t get the obsession about it, but enjoys the foreplay, and piercing twirls.

Y for you - A random head canon about your relationship.

They can’t take a bath alone. Stork started this habit waaay before they got married, and it was really relaxing, and now they can’t relax without each other. Same thing with sleeping, but Nova got stork into the habit of sleeping naked. Not for sexual reasons but because she has silk bedding and they both really like the feeling of sleeping in pure silk.

Z for Zoom - Zoom into the future, what does your future look like?

Nova eventually is taught everything she needs, and these two become makeshift monster hunters. Nova is stork’s damage control, and they’re a force to mess with. Nova even knows how to navigate all of storks traps on the condor. They eventually move into one room together. They never have kids, but they do wind up adopting a ‘guard dog’ for the condor.Nova cries when the other storm hawks hit the ‘official’ minimum age to be a squadron. Stork has no problem leaving the condor, and eventually actually sells it for scrap, and nova and him make the ultimate Ship they dub the Vulture. Stork says it’s his proudest work and makes Nova his first mate. Slowly but surely they separate from the rest of the storm hawks as Aerrow, Piper, Finn, and Junko return to live on their home Terra that Cyclonis took at the start of it all. Stork and Nova stayed for the ceremony of the newly Raised flag, and they rename their Home Terra, Terra Argonia, after Nova’s destroyed Terra. Stork and Nova don’t leave the team, it’s just now that everything is where it should be, and everyone is learning how to fully defend themselves, and rebuild their lives, there’s no major need for the storm hawks. Terra Argonia is now the home base of the team, but Nova and Stork still have a whole world to explore, and they do so. Piper and Raddar eventually get a second ship in case Stork and Nova are gone, and the others want to head out on an adventure. Every now and then the team fully assembles to fight against retaliation, but in the end the world of Atmos is left in capable hands. Especially now that Piper is the head leader of teaching the future fighters, along with the skills taught by the others. Nothing could have prepared them for the end as life is given a steady pace.

(FUCK- THE LAST ONE MADE ME CRY A BIT FUUUUUUCK- Please! ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS LIKE THIS, I’M HAVING FUN WITH THISIIIISISISIS~~~)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 186: Lunch and Then Some Light Noumu Battling

Previously on BnHA: The New JP Hero Billboard Chart Top 10 rankings were announced and the heroes each gave a short little speech. My new adult bird son Can You Smell What The Hawk Is Cooking stole the spotlight by basically saying, “y’all need to stop being such bummers, we’re the best that the world’s got now so let’s fucking act like it.” We learned that Hawks is basically a hero prodigy, having started his own hero agency at the tender young age of 18, and now having risen all the way to #2 at age 22. Anyway, he then handed the mic over to Endeavor who went with the short and sweet “just watch me” route, for better or worse. Afterwards Endeav throttled Hawks a little bit in the privacy of his dressing room, and Hawks apologized and then said he actually needed Endeavor’s help for something. “Do you remember the Noumus?” I then proceeded to lose my shit, as we transitioned to some unknown location where an unknown figure was talking to an unknown Noumu with a Kurogiri face (!) who could TALK BACK (!!!!). Then I really lost my shit omg.

Today on BnHA: Endeavor and Hawks go for a stroll on their lunch break. Hawks casually saves like 15 random people and attracts a crowd of fans seeking autographs and selfies. Meanwhile Endeavor attracts one (1) fan, and tries to offer an autograph of his own only to send the kid running off in tears because Endeavor’s aloof attitude is apparently what makes him cool lol. So as Endeav tries to sort all of that out, he sits down with Hawks in some fancy high-rise restaurant. Hawks tells him about some rumored Noumu sightings that he’s been investigating all across the country. He says he flew out to the locations, but couldn’t find any evidence. He theorizes that someone might be purposely spreading rumors in order to sow fear among the general populace. And he says he wants Endeavor, the newly crowned number one here, to be the one to put the people at ease. Meanwhile he himself just wants to chill out, and he would like nothing better than an ideal world so peaceful that heroes can just relax. Anyway, so then that Talking Noumu from the last chapter comes flying at them from out of nowhere and smashes through the glass and is all “WHICH ONE OF YOU IS STRONGEST.” So Endeavor goes to fight him.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 208 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

omg

I think this might be my favorite SJ cover like, ever?? is that a huge overreaction? but like, Deku looks so cool. and I fucking love the colors so much. and don’t think I didn’t notice the distinct BakuDeku theme of this green and orange aesthetic, Horikoshi. because I did! notice! gosh these colors look so good together don’t y’all agree. okay fine I’ll shut the fuck up

lmao

this was such a badass cover and then it’s just. completely ruined by the text in the background being all “TOAST ‘EM”

(ETA: that text was so distracting that I honestly didn’t even notice the Noumu in the background. completely missed that. so observant lol. I probably would have noticed in Mangastream’s version, which says “seething!” but that’s pretty funny too tbh)

jesus Endeavor calm the fuck down and put yourself out already. why are you always so fucking angry

holy shit

well now, that’s one hell of an opening hook

the text is all “ever since I could remember, I’ve lived at the whim of others.” and apparently this dude found it suffocating

so here we have a disgruntled office worker about to shoot the place up, presumably? or like, the quirk equivalent of that. how fucking creepy

oh my GOD

IS HE STRIPPING NAKED TO GAIN MORE EMBARRASSMENT POWER

what the fucking fuck oh my lord. every so often Horikoshi is just like “lol I thought of a really weird thing. let’s just roll with it and see where it takes us”

so this man with his weird humiliation kink thinks he’s all that, but!

did Hawks just shoot fucking feathers to cover this man’s R-rated parts

also if Endeavor is even 1% like his youngest son, his favorite food will be soba. moment of truth!

goddammit, Endeavor’s just completely ignoring the question, and he’s actually focusing on stopping the flasher guy while Hawks continues to talk about food

lmao now this stupid fucking dog is running out into traffic

don’t worry kids, Hawks fired off more wings to spirit sweet, stupid Schwartz away to safety

you had me until “chicken liver” Hawks but I guess I could keep an open mind

does Hawks ever actually make eye contact with anyone

I’m starting to feel like he’s the type who would deliberately turn around if he ever did happen to be facing the same direction as whoever he was rescuing. he only does casual rescues

oddly enough I’m liking him less than I did before. Too Cool For That Shit is just not my type. I prefer Too Grumpy For That Shit and/or Actually Fully Enthusiastic And Earnest And Will Do The Uncool Thing Without Hesitation

but I have a feeling that what we see might not be what we get here, so let’s just wait a bit. idk just a feeling about him. because he sure as heck didn’t have that meteoric rise by not giving a damn

(ETA: okay so! needless to say my fears were unfounded as it turns out Hawks’s thing is not Too Cool For That Shit, but actually Too Tired For That Shit, which is actually one of my favorite types. Too Cool is just the persona he puts on because it’s what’s expected of him. but in actuality the reason he seems so nonchalant is because his heart isn’t really in it. this was never something he wanted to do; it was something he was more or less forced into because he was so talented and With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility, and so it didn’t really matter what he personally wanted or didn’t want. in other words, Hawks is the very first Reluctant Hero I think we’ve had in this series. he’s someone who is more or less trapped in his role, and by now he’s become very, very good at what he does, but more than anything he would like to one day not have to do it anymore.

but of course not only does he not have that option, he’s somehow managed to get himself in way deeper than most of his peers will ever have to worry about. not only does he have to contend with the everyday stresses of hero life, but he also has a fun undercover double agent mission to worry about! so add in the fear of being caught and the stress of having to play both sides, while all the while trying his best to make sure no innocents get hurt! and having to think about all of this constantly!

basically, up until now I wouldn’t have thought that anyone could come along and actually contend with Aizawa for the title of Most Exhausted Character in the series. but not only does Hawks contend, I think it’s actually no contest. and yet he does it anyway. without complaint. well with a little bit of complaining, but under the guise of being a lackadaisical young twenty-something who isn’t particularly concerned about anything. 

he actually ends up confessing more to Endeavor than I would have expected, given all this. like he was straight up confiding in him. that all turned out to be completely true. but because he says it with that carefree smile, you don’t realize at first how much he’s just kind of quietly suffering underneath it all. like that dog in the house on fire saying this is fine. like, no it fucking isn’t, but he puts on such a good act of being completely unconcerned. it’s astounding in hindsight.

my god I have so many fucking feelings about Hawks apparently. I didn’t mean to essay this much and there are probably more essays on the way too lol. I love my tired bird son too damn much and I hope to god he doesn’t get himself killed fffff.)

anyways he’s signing autographs and giving interviews and shit, and meanwhile Endeavor is just completely being ignored

okay now they’re acknowledging him, but it’s the usual “man, he’s scary!”

(ETA: CAN’T YOU SEE-KUNNNNN)

this kid knows what’s what. Inasa was fucked up for years because of his I Asked Endeavor For An Autograph trauma

now Endeavor is silently and intimidatingly turning his head toward the kids and walking over

by the way these children are fucking adorable and I want take them all home and give them sandwiches and juice boxes

(ETA: I’m so glad Can’t You See-kun is even acknowledged in-universe as the most adorable child on the face of the earth. if anyone ever deserved to become a beloved meme it’s him)

oh shit Endeavor’s making an effort!!

he’s really trying to fix that image omg

but it’s not working!

oh snap. it’s just like All Might said, huh. remember he told you not to try to copy him and to do your own thing, Endeavor

the kid is having a meltdown now and saying that Endeavor doesn’t need fanservice and that the lone wolf attitude is what makes him cool

okay but you can be a lone wolf and still be Not A Dick, though

now the kid is running away crying. jesus christ. well so much for those juice boxes then. maybe I’ll just give them to your shark-looking friend

Endeav’s just staring in confusion and wondering where he went wrong

where you went wrong is being a dick for 40 years. change isn’t just going to come overnight. but you need to keep at it! if you want to be nicer just be nicer, and eventually either your fans will warm up to the change, or you’ll get new fans

(ETA: I stand by this, for the record. I know this arc is doing a whole thing of showing how Endeavor can be a different type of hero than All Might and still be someone that people rely on. but in addition to this I think that if he genuinely wants to be more approachable than he should just keep working at it even if people are naturally going to be really confused by it at first)

anyways so now we’re cutting to some fancy high-rise restaurant and Endeav and Hawks are eating in what seems to be a private room

or more accurately, Hawks is eating, and Endeavor is just sitting there with his arms crossed same as always

are you sure Shouto isn’t adopted? that kid loves stuffing his face during serious discussions

(ETA: lmao and he even does it yet again at the end of this arc. I don’t know why I’m always so tickled by this but I just love it)

anyway, so Hawks is replying that when he wants something he just goes for it. “it’s just my nature”

he apparently tried to draft Shouto after the sports festival! interesting

but he says he’s glad that he ended up with Tokoyami in the end

wow but kind of a dick reason -- “Shouto-kun’s brand took a hit after he failed his provisional license exam”

is he just trying to rile up Endeavor here? interesting

Endeavor says Hawks knows a lot for someone who never went to U.A.

which we kind of already knew (that he’s not a U.A. alum), because otherwise he would have been involved in the Kamino mission. but I wonder where he did graduate from. is he a Shiketsu alum?

how mysterious

(ETA: in the Mangastream version he says “I’ve always been a good observer, you see,” which is something that gets called back to later)

anyway, now Endeavor’s getting impatient and demanding to get to the point

ahasfhkhlkj

yesssss more info about them omgggg. how are there even Noumus anymore with AFO locked up??

okay so Hawks is reiterating the stuff we already know, that “scores” of Noumus were captured along with All for One at Kamino. and that since then, even though the League has been active, they haven’t been able to confirm any new appearances of Noumus

hmm, I see, so it’s going to turn out that it was B

(ETA: actually now I’m wondering if there might be a C and this is purposely trying to mislead us! because everyone always assumed that AFO was the only one capable of producing Noumus, but what if that isn’t the case though?)

Endeavor says that since Hawks wants to team up, that must mean he’s actually found proof of this so-called “rumor”

oh my god Endeavor. why couldn’t we have had you during the last arc. you would have had us out of that bullshit basement in no time flat

(ETA: for real, this arc is only what, nine chapters? the man knows how to move things along)

okay now Hawks is saying that this isn’t the only place where Noumus have been sighted, and that there are rumors all around the country -- though not in the news -- and people have been gossiping

oh for fuck’s sake could you get to the point already Hawks. stop dramatically building up to it

blah blah he heard it from locals when he went on a business trip, and he did a secret investigation at that time but wasn’t able to turn anything up

so he says he got interested after that, and flew around the country to investigate further

so apparently there were similar rumors cropping up in completely unrelated parts of the country, with slight variations

but in the end he wasn’t able to validate any of the rumors

so then if this is all true, how many of these Noumu 2.0s are there??

(ETA: and is any of it actually true? it’s hard to say at this point. I’m learning toward “yes”, or else why bring it up in the first place. there’s gonna be a Noumu arc coming up in the future at some point I think. Noumu Wars)

so Hawks is continuing to munch on his yakitori and he says that ever since the incidents at U.A., Hosu, and Kamino, everyone knows about the Noumus now, and he wonders if it’s just “some asshole with a motive to spread unease” who’s spreading rumors throughout the country

okay but we the readers know for a fact it’s not! and you wouldn’t have called Endeavor to team up if you really thought it was just rumors. so when are you going to get to your point

...no way he’s talking about All for One, is he? "a criminal from a long time ago.” someone who wanted ability users to be free. was AFO the Magneto of his day once upon a time?

(ETA: actually, thinking about this more I think maybe it was the mysterious Destro who was mentioned by Gentle not too long ago and who I’m still hoping to learn more about. he was the leader of the Quirk Liberation Army or something along those lines wasn’t he? definitely sounds like a Magneto type)

he says that the more fear a society has, the more these kind of delusions sell and spread

Endeavor is again telling him to stop being a dramatic fuck and to just get to the point

wha

seriously?? you invited him to lunch just to ask him that?

Endeavor’s asking him what his angle is

did fucking Hawks just admit he wants to 420 blaze it. in my good Christian manga. which takes place and is published in Japan where weed will get you thrown in fucking prison for the better part of a decade. something tells me this is Jaimini’s Box taking certain liberties lol

(ETA: yeah, in Mangastream’s version he says “sit back with a nice cold one” which is much more in line with Japanese culture lol. still, Hawks does give off that stoner vibe a bit, can’t deny)

aww, but this part is sweet

though you do know you’ll end up putting a lot of heroes out of a job lol. safer world = no need for heroes. I’m sure most heroes would take that trade-off any day though

so now Endeavor is being all quiet and seemingly thoughtful

and he’s looking out the window

and... whaaaat is this

...do not fucking tell me this is a Noumu

holy fuck it’s a Noumu

um, what? can we back up just a sec? we just had a whole long discussion all about how there have been no verified Noumu sightings since AFO was locked up, and now one just happens to show up the instant the #1 and #2 heroes are done having their little talk?

lmao and now the hostess is coming with the check

maybe this Noumu’s uncannily good timing was cancelled out by this lady who has the worst timing that any human person has ever had in the history of existence

holy shit look how dramatic this is!?

“HELLO MY NAME IS TALKING NOUMU. WHICH IS THE STRONGEST ONE. RARRRR”

Endeavor is telling Hawks to lead the evacuation

Hawks is asking “what about you?” as if that part wasn’t obvious

RIGHT? suspiciously good timing if you ask me. I don’t have any real clue what’s going on yet, but damned if this is a coincidence

anyways now Endeavor is showing us just why he’s the current number one!

TAKE THAT, SUSPICIOUS TALKING NOUMU

and next chapter we’ll apparently get a whole Endeavor battle. well I hope it’s interesting! this arc is off to a bit of a weird start for me, but I think it’s because several of the pieces have yet to fall into place completely. there are a lot of weird coincidences and things that seem Just A Little Bit Off, and I feel like once we learn why, I’m going to be like, “ohhhhhhh!!”

(ETA: yeah, needless to say there were a lot of “ohhhhhh!!” moments and this arc is incredibly dense on a reread. so much going on here omg. this is good stuff)

no bonus today! I almost ran out of time to even put tags. anyways, toast ‘em Endeavor