#i decided to try realism one last time

[anormalf1sh]

OCs

[kedsandtubesocks]

all the trouble we’ve seen

Max Phillips x Witch!Reader

written for the PPCU x MCR WRITING CHALLENGE | prompt song: You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison

summary: Max is in trouble, real deep shit after what he did at the office. So what’s gonna happen when you’re stuck baby sitting the most annoying (and handsome) vampire you’ve ever met?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Canon divergent AU (Max doesn’t die) enemies to lovers, forced proximity, magical realism, supernatural themes, Bi!Max, imprisonment, blood imagery, death mention & discussion, asshole but kinda sweet!Max, angst angst angst, scent kink, vampire moments with blood drinking, dry humping, smutty themes & heavy smutty implied, use of pet names

word count: 4.1k

a/n: thank you to @sp00kymulderr for hosting this challenge I’m so happy I could participate & I’m incredibly sorry this is getting posted later than expected!! This fic try wouldn’t be here without @perotovar @hauntedhowlett & @pedgito who let me cry/scream & gave me the guidance I need, i love each of you & I owe y’all my life lol and to you, if you decide to read this - know I’m thanking you a million times

The last time you saw Max Phillips was over five years ago, and you had threatened to hex his ass to hell.

You just never thought you’d see him again, especially in the mess he’s in. Though, the horrifying scene before you is almost fitting for Max.

The restaurant had been a mess when you arrived. You almost felt embarrassed. Bullets scattered all across the floor. Blood splattered against the floor. The gunfire had erupted when the cops tried to take Max in only for them to realize their bullets weren’t working.

Now Max sits among the shells with his arms raised up high in surrender. The chaos settles in debris all around. He smirks horrendously coyly when he sees you.

“Thought I smelled you, little witch.” He grins and the glimmer of his fangs shine out.

You simply say nothing, frowning hard and unamused.

Charged with high crimes after changing an entire business into vampires, the warrant had been put out on Max weeks ago. It wasn’t just the supernatural community looking for him, but actual law enforcement. This sleazy vampire just got sloppy at hiding.

Yet Max doesn’t even seem bothered one bit when your kind placed him in the magical chain spell. You always admired him for seemingly cool under pressure unbothered ease.

Until now in the council’s courtroom as the sentence is given and you see a new side of Max.

“Death.” The high magistrate declares cold and unflinching.

You almost choke on an inhale.

Max’s face falls, the first move vivid and true reaction he’s shown this entire time.

Max’s eyes immediately snap to you, and you see it - a flash of crystalized fear.

You don’t even know how to react.

Two guards come and drag him away from the council room.

“Wait! Wait! You can’t fucking do this to me!? Do you even know what they’re gonna do to a guy like me in prison?!” He screams.

It’s all he says before the doors close and he’s gone.

They would send him to die.

The council deemed him too dangerous. Carelessly exposing the supernatural and being so blatantly cocky about it upset them. You just never thought they would be this harsh.

Your body feels numb. You don’t even move out of your seat. A solid hand against your shoulder startles you out of your daze.

The high magistrate stands besides you grinning softly, almost expectant.

“You must be glad he’s finally in custody.” She says.

You couldn’t fully say you were.

“Didn’t expect that verdict.” You truthfully tell her.

She sighs, weary. “The cases made against him were too much, and this last instance of turning so many innocents into vampires is unacceptable.”

You understood that. But death?

“Besides, you out of all of us know how much of a bastard he is.” The magistrate says, and a bitterness bubbles in your mouth.

Now wearily nod.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, but the law is the law and he needs to be punished.”

She squeezes your shoulder before drawing you into a solid hug.

“Call me when you get home.”

“Yeah mom, will do.” You sigh, hugging her back.

But you don’t get much sleep that night.

The walk to the dungeon the next day isn’t too far. The sleek business-like building simply melts away once you get past the attendant. Immediately you’re transported into the hollow prison. The cold stone, the stale air, the rumble of ancient dangerous magic, all form an eerie atmosphere.

The ruins on the wall illuminate a path that guides you.

The dungeon, an ever changing landscape, is specifically a holding space before the criminals are arranged for their sentences.

Max’s arm stretches out from the bars before you even see him.

“Was wondering what took you so long to come see me.”

You almost want to turn around and leave. You don’t even know why you came.

But you walk to the front of the jail cell. Even among the bars, Max is so damn handsome it makes you angry.

“So, you come to laugh at me?” He asks, rubbing at his jaw.

You stay silent.

“Can’t even say I look sexy in this jumpsuit. Putrid green and white stripes aren’t my colors.” He scoffs.

You still can’t say anything.

This vampire now begins pacing around his small cell.

His eyes flicker to you sharp.

“Did they tell you about my cellmate? He’s out for lunch right now. But he actually used magic to kill his ex’s wife’s lover. That’s who your fucked up system thinks I’m as bad ass. I didn’t even murder people! I brought them back to life better than before!”

You swallow hard, unable to find your voice still.

It pisses Max off that he rushes to the bars and slams his hands against them. The magic of the barrier against the metal sparks to life, refusing to let him leave.

“Say something, witch!” He snarls your name, and it jolts your heart.

You don’t say anything. You can’t even say why you came. So you turn on your heels and leave.

Max’s laugh, bitter and loud, bounces off the walls and haunts you the entire way home.

He would have a month in a prison hold before the actual sentence came. In that month he would be under the watch of another magic user…

And of course he picks you.

Your mother tried to change the arrangement, but the criminal had the right of choice.

Now you stand in the bleak apartment as Max glances around the place scrutinizing it.

“Couldn’t they have at least set us up in like a Hilton or something? This looks like some shit ass studio college dorm looking place.”

“The little prodigy witch couldn’t even get special treatment, huh?” He sneers at you.

You glare back.

“Why did you even pick me? To what? Just torture me too?” You finally snap.

“Oh of course.” He bows, annoyingly ridiculous and smirking bright. “If I’m going out, I’m taking you with me.”

You storm out of the living room and slam the bathroom to sulk alone.

The small studio apartment was highly protected, a jail cell in its own right. Protective barriers would keep anyone leaving or coming in.

Then the final piece arrives for your month-long confinement.

One of the secondary magistrates comes to place a sigil on Max’s neck. The skin sears with the magic pressing into him, and he even hisses.

“What the fuck, I forgot how awful it is being human.” He mutters almost slurred.

His powers would be completely suppressed now due to the spell. Max is practically human now.

Now it’s just you and him, for one damn month.

“I’m surprised they didn’t leave a coffin here.” You dryly comment.

“Oo, kinky. I knew you had it in you, witch.” Max smiles.

“We should at least fuck, that’s all we might be able to do here. Plus it’d be for old times sake.” Max immediately offers, and you make a disgusted face.

“You haven’t even slept with me!” He argues absolutely upset. “If you do, I’ll make you see why you should’ve back then.”

He smirks, winking at you.

Back then - Romania.

It had been your first big aboard mission, and it was where you first met Max. Still so cocky and smug, you hate how effortlessly he charmed you at that college bar. He constantly purred at how he hadn't seen a witch as cute as you, except how unfortunate it was that witches' blood like yours smelled so bad he couldn’t stay near you long. Then you spotted Max fucking a waitress behind a bar and didn’t want anything to do with him.

Still don’t. So you simply decide to ignore him.

Most days you stay focused on your laptop letting Max talk aimlessly like an annoying podcast host with no listeners.

“You know what’s really evil? Why hasn’t Philadelphia Cream Cheese brought those good strawberry cheesecake snacks from the 90’s? Like, why are they withholding the goods?” He says lounging on the couch.

Ignore.

“Oh you think ignoring me is gonna break me? You’re cute, sweetheart.” Max scoffs.

Ignore.

He even starts a full lecture about the importance to the seductive nature of sales, and you put your headphones in.

Eventually when you start preparing dinner, and he’s slumped on the couch, this annoying vampire blurts out -

“I miss my mom.”

You almost think you misheard him.

“Guess getting closer to death makes you think of things like that. She would’ve liked you.” He continues. “She always said I needed someone good to keep me in check.”

He never once mentioned his mom.

“Always thought you were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.” Max adds soft. “So damn smart and strong.”

Before grabbing the pasta you need to boil, his words freeze you.

“Should’ve run away with you. Wanted to.” He comments wistfully.

“No you didn’t.” You finally speak, and your voice creaks like a haunted house.

Max sits up immediately staring at you.

“I’m being serious.” His voice is unwavering just like his hard earthen eyes.

“Always wanted you. Always think I will.”

“You’re spewing bullshit now.” You flat out tell him. “I saw you that night with that waitress.”

Max sits up more. A hyper awareness rises in you, and you notice how thin the air feels now as the vampire moves to you in the kitchen.

“Besides, you always made it really fucking clear you couldn’t stand to be around me.” You add with a bitter bite.

“Little witches like you always smell so damn bad” - it’s like what he always said. You even repeat his words back to him.

Max stays surprisingly silent now, transformed into the deadly predator he is. Before you realize it you’re pressed against the kitchen wall at a dizzying speed. This handsome vampire stares down at you so close.

You aren’t afraid of what he can do. You know the spell is doing its job at suppressing him. But what is more dangerous is how badly your heart races.

His fingers run up against your chest delicately then to your neck where they stop.

“Only said all that because you drove me so damn crazy.” He mutters lower and hesitant than you’ve ever heard.

“Knew if I let myself even have one taste of you I’d never recover. I’d follow you forever.” He adds.

You swallow hard, barely able to breathe. Then you make the mistake of looking into his eyes.

You know his powers are suppressed. The magic radiating off him smells like a dusty room. Yet his eyes lock you in, almost hypnotizing you as if he was in his full form.

You can’t tell who moves first. You or him. It’s simply a collision of lips messily pressing against each other with Max instantly molds his body into yours.

He drags you to the couch in the living room. The boiling water sits on the stove overflowing. You can’t even seem to care. Not when he eats you out with a possessed consumption, a type of devouring that makes your eyes roll back into another dimension.

You’re surprised at how generous a lover he is, and how well endowed he is. It’s all delicious and good. You hate how much his kisses and heat melt into your bones.

You even hate how easily you fall asleep in his arms.

The next morning you’re still tangled in his hold.

“Haven’t slept like that in decades,” Max yawns groggily when he wakes up. “But that’s what a good fuck and pretty company to sleep with does to a man.”

You snort smacking his bare chest.

The mood shifts after that.

You and him watch shitty day time television together and really get into The Price is Right. You spend hours talking to him about everything and anything.

He also fucks you until your brain melts out of your skull and maybe even after that.

The days melt together and what’s worse, it feels natural falling into place beside Max.

“If we didn’t have all this…” he waves his hand around the room while you and him lie in bed together still not wanting to get up.

“I think we would’ve been good together.” Max muses.

You snort. “We would’ve killed each other.”

Max doesn’t say anything, instead lets his fingers just dance along your bare skin.

You’re about to ask him if he’s alright when he begins to cough. The cough started up last week. Now it sounds hoarse, getting worse over these past few days.

The binding spell is doing its job, keeping him suppressed, but it’s essentially draining him to the brink of no return.

That reality is now manifesting before you and terrifies you. So you’ve tried to sooth him, make him tea or even rub his back.

It’s a ominous awareness that seeps into the cracks of this facade you’ve been in.

“We should run away.” Max says suddenly the next morning after he fucked you senseless in the shower.

“What?!” You shriek.

“You heard me, witch.” He grins toothy. “We should run away, you and me.”

He nudges his chin at you, and your stomach flips.

Now you’re the one staying quiet as your mind scrambles like a frantic rat running from the light.

“Hello?!” He cries out your name, and his voice snaps your spine straight.

“So are you really just gonna let them kill me?!” The vampire snarls.

“You broke the law, like extremely. This is the punishment.” You fire back with a snap.

“You know what’s the real damn punishment? Being here with you. Knowing none of this will matter and...” he cuts himself off fast and glares hard.

You can taste what he’s going to say.

This make believe dream of living with him, of maybe having a life together is just a dream.

A contorted nightmare of what is to come.

You and Max avoid each other the rest of the day.

Until another coughing fit comes, and he collapses in the kitchen. It’s scary watching this suave powerful hunter wither away into almost a husk of who he is. You immediately rush over to help steady him.

Calling out his name, he’s barely in and out of consciousness.

You’re panicking. You know this is what would happen. He only has a week left before his execution.

But you can’t stand this. You don’t want to see him suffer. Not when you’ve felt the Max beneath his grimey jackass surface crust, felt his tender kisses, seen the bashful smiles he gives you, known the way he makes you feel-

So you lower your neck down to him.

“Max, do it.” You order.

“But what about…” he mutters through a wheeze.

“Don’t care. We’ll figure it out.” You firmly cut him off.

Max’s hands shake as he draws himself to you. He even places the softest butterfly of kisses against your skin.

Then he bites down.

His fangs aren’t sharpened so the piercing of his teeth into your skin makes you hiss, feels so much more animalistic than you would have thought.

Then the pleasure immediately washes over.

A honey syrupy warmth courses into your veins, and you moan feeling him suck at you, feeling his tongue lip out to your skin.

You don’t even realize Max has shifted, gained more strength, until your back hits the cold kitchen floor and your hands clutch onto him.

He slides his body between your legs and immediately grinds up against your core.

“Oh fuck, knew it. I knew you’d taste amazing.” He slurs watery as your blood fills his mouth.

You moan more clutching at him as your hips rise to grind against his more. It feels like you could burst out of your skin at any moment with this all consuming pleasure.

Max dry humps you more and you don’t care that you’re picking up a more frantic pace trying to reach your edge.

“Shit yeah, give it to me.” He commands, and your climax hits you dizzying that your vision goes out for a minute.

But you’re not the only one, Max groans loud, a punched out moan signaling his release.

“No one’s made me fucking come in my pants since I was a little bat. You naughty little thing.” He mumbles with a grin against your skin, kissing and licking away at the wound he gave you.

When Max lifts up from your neck, you swear his eyes flicker a shade of crimson.

Eventually he gathers you into his arms. A warmth has returned to his cheeks. You hate that this dumb vampire hasn’t wiped off your blood from his face and instead seems to wear it proud.

“Your blood is my honor badge, witch.” Max winks, and you roll your eyes.

Now the silence returns.

“I’ve wanted to ask…Why did you do it? Change all those people in the office?”

In his arms, you feel Max shrug.

“Why not? Humans are weak, easily broken. Why not give ‘em a shot to be better? If not, they're just food, like a walking grocery store for my kind.”

A dread sickness sinks into you hearing him talk this unbothered and slightly cruel.

“You were human. You couldn’t have always thought like that.” You say firm even as you your fingers trace against his.

Max sighs.

“Yeah that’s true. But love and life’s a bitch ain’t it.”

Curiously, you can’t help but ask what happened.

Max stays quiet. You’re worried this soft bonding bubble has popped.

“I fell in love right before I turned.” His voice takes that uncharacteristically soft somber tone.

Max tells you about the man he met and how the two of them vowed to be together. But then Max was changed, and his partner saw him as a monster. Then all the faith and love shattered right before Max’s eyes.

So, this existence has been a prison of its own for him.

“Then I met you, someone else stuck like me between the mundane and magical.” Max says and your heart jumps.

“You had laughed so damn loud at something the other witch with you at the bar said and it annoyed me. Didn’t think someone could be that happy.”

You’re about to snap at him until he continues.

“I wanted to annoy you as much as I could until I knew you inside and out.”

It’s a Max way of saying he wanted to be with you.

Something heavy and rusting settles in your chest and drags you down to a depth you don’t want to face.

“You still don’t know me.” You mutter.

“I know enough, know you aren’t the type that wants to be an apprentice magistrate, much less a high one. That sounds like what that mother of yours wanted.” Max comments, always seeming to just have the best ability at reading people and it makes you fidget in his arms.

And he’s right.

You never wanted to be a magistrate.

You have dreams of a beautiful occult shop, warm and inviting, getting to run it yourself with all the knowledge of magic you know. Binding and blending the supernatural with the everyday world - that’s what you dreamed of.

You even tell him this.

Max surprisingly listens to it all patiently.

“We could make it happen.” He suggests. “After all, I’m a damn wizard in business.”

That makes you laugh and he joins in.

But it’s a candy coated dream holding a truthful rot beneath all.

“There’s this saying I heard once,” Max says suddenly. “Life’s but a dream for the dead.”

“That’s…morbid.” You reply.

“But true.” Max shrugs simply. “Trust me, I’ve been dead long enough to know. Guess that dream might be ending soon.”

It’s that unspoken festering truth.

The end is approaching.

It now feels as if the prison chains around Max have possibly been around you as well.

What will you do?

Before you head to bed you notice the light from the streetlights casts a shadow from a window that crawls across the floor - it looks like jail bars.

That night you let Max drink from you again and go to absolute heaven. Because if this is your hell then why not taste the sublime even if for a little bit.

You feel more drained than normal, barely staying awake. Max softly reassures you it’s because he’s fed off you twice.

“Just get some rest honey, I’ll be here.” He kisses your shoulder and spoons you in his hold.

Wearily you slip into dreams of a hotel room down the street, where you and Max would escape to. You’d change your name and he’d change his. Max of course manages to negotiate a buy and you get your shop filling it to the brim with tarot cards and blessed candles. It’s your own little slice of heaven, and Max complains about it all the time. But you’re happy, and he stays right beside you.

And then you wake up.

Your mother, the high magistrate, actually is the one shaking you awake.

“What happened?!” She cries petrified and panicked.

Wearily you glance around and find more magic users and guards storm in and out of the apartment.

Max is gone.

Claw marks scratch against the door and the wood is broken open. He found a way out. Absolute horror crashes into you.

“Did you let him drink from you?! Answer me!” Your mom demands screaming your name.

You’re too terrified to answer. The silence is enough and your mom explodes.

“How did you forget?! A vampire drinking a witch's blood allows them to momentarily gain abilities to break seals and spells?!” She screams.

You had been so deep in this delusion… you hadn’t even thought of that.

Your blood runs cold.

That bastard had charmed you with all the suave of a slug. And here you are, left the buyer hoodwinked by the rotten lie he sold you.

All that’s left from Max is a single piece of paper written for you.

Life is but a dream baby…

Crunching the note in your hands, you set the paper on fire.

-

Your prison cell is more comfortable than others and you know that. Being the daughter of a high magistrate is like being the child of a president. You understand the privileged benefits that it brings.

But a cage is still a cage.

You’d be in this single waiting room cell of the dungeon for another day until it was decided where you would go for your crimes of assisting a fugitive.

Your mother is still trying to argue that you were under the influence of Max. In some way you were, but just not in the way she speaks of.

Just thinking about that monster makes your blood boil.

Down the hall of the dungeon, a faint clang echos like something hit the floor. Your guard curiously peeks down the dark shifting labyrinth

The guard’s eyes flicker to you for a brief moment, then he walks off to investigate the noise.

You don’t give it much thought and return to reading your book.

The new footsteps come clocking down the hall. They don’t sound like the familiar boots of the guards and you wonder if it’s someone from the magistrate’s court.

“You miss me baby?”

The air goes still.

Your reaction to hearing Max’s smooth acidic voice is visceral.

You throw your book at him.

“You fucker!” The emotions take over, volcanic and consuming.

He’s dressed in the nicest suit you’ve ever seen and covers his head from your book attack. But you also don’t miss the blood soaking his shirt, still lingering around his lips.

“Hey, hey, hey! Is that anyway you should treat your rescuer?” His face scrunched up in confusion is still as handsome as ever.

“You’re the reason why I’m here to begin with!” You snap.

He hushes you.

“You want us to get caught?!” Max seethes.

Before you can yell at him more, your vampire walks forward and kicks open the gate. The magic shimmers, a fluttering electric wave, then crumbles as the lock opens.

Max stubbornly walks over to snap off the binding spell on your wrists even though it faintly burns his hands as you notice the harsh sizzling sound.

He really is setting you free.

You’re almost too stunned to move now staring at him confused.

Max sighs annoyingly dramatic. “Baby, are you coming or what?”

He holds his hand out, eyes expectant, but there’s a glimmer of hesitation.

You don’t grab his hand, but instead rush forward to kiss him frenzied, not even caring there’s still traces of blood against his chin. It becomes a distorted but consecrated blood vow sealing. You’re thankful this dumb vampire is quick to react grabbing onto you with a fierce hold.

The guards would be coming soon. Max’s intrusion and your escape will be noticed if you don’t act fast.

But for right now, it’s just you and him.

And you think, it might be you and this vampire until the sun bleeds.

And as you place your hand in Max’s - you realize you’re more than okay with that.

[waywardsou2]

Drunk!Logan X Drunk!MaleReader Part 6

I've said it once and I'll say it again, this title is completely inccroect but I'm not going to change it because I like to keep things orderly and the same.

Also I realised I never said but this takes place between X Men and X2

Summary: Logan and you have finally sorted things out and decide to go on a date

Word Count: 3.2k+

Tags: fluff, date, motorcycle ride, Logan being a gentleman, discussion of past trauma

That morning you woke up buzzing with energy. You were still physically tired, as you had only gotten 4 hours of sleep but your mind was full of images of Logan.

Last night did not feel real. All that had happened between the two of you did not seem possible.

When you had first met Logan you believed you weren’t good enough for his notice, and that he thought the same. But you craved to be noticed, you really wanted that attention and only from Logan. And you didn’t know why. Those feelings were just one more thing to add to the complicated emotions you had been burdened with over the years.

The whole reason you were here is because Xavier had sensed your mutational presence near by and offered you a place amongst his mutants at the school. Not as a student but as resident and eventual teacher. You weren’t ready to teach yet, but you knew Xavier thought you were. All of those things, the hurt, the abandonment, the compassion showed by a stranger and the conflicting feelings you had for Logan, that you didn’t realise until last night was adoration, had built up in your mind creating another space for you to build a wall. But that building took time. And in the meantime, alcohol was your best friend.

But then of course Logan had to come along and knock all of those walls down, even some you had only begun to build. And at first you were mad at him. Infuriated at him for taking away your security. But now…now you were glad he had fought his way inside. Even if it had brought forward feelings you had refused to let yourself feel. You were glad of it.

The pain of being emotionless hurt your heart beyond measure but Logan’s violent appearance had given you that push to allow yourself to feel again, and that’s when you knew that you felt for Logan. You couldn’t call it love.

Not yet.

You didn’t know him.

But it was like a childish crush, one you knew was maybe not so childish.

You spent that day going about your duties as best as possible trying to keep yourself unassuming and placated. You didn’t really want anyone to ask questions in fear they might work out what was going on with you. You didn’t need to be Charles Xavier to figure out what a crush was.

At the end of the day you went back to your room trying to calm your nerves and figure out what you were supposed to wear. Though you were eager for the date you hadn’t been on one since high school. And that hadn’t gone so well.

Logan on the other hand had woken up with a feeling in his gut he couldn’t place. And he refused to let that feeling be nervousness. He just…he didn’t want to wait.

But he did, and he did so patiently. Teaching his classes like he always did, recounting all he could remember from his time during World War 2. What it had been like, what society and the government were like. The front lines and the battles.

As usual the kids were wrapped up in the way he explains their American history. Engulfed in the realism of the tale. There were few students who knew how old Logan really was. So most believe he was just a fantastic storyteller. Maybe he should have been an English teacher instead.

But as the day went on and classes finished, Logan retired to his room briefly. Pulling out a beer from the mini fridge he kept in his room. He wasn’t nervous he just needed a pre-dinner beer.

During the day he had booked them a place in a restaurant 6 miles from the school. It was a small Italian restaurant. Despite all his years of traveling he had never been to Italy. And this was the closest he was ever going to get to it. He rummaged through his closet looking for some his more presentable clothing. Many of his t-shirts had holes in them or roughly stitched together holes. Most of his jeans had also begun to tear in places and he had let them. Even creating a few more to make them look like the ripped jeans he saw all the teens wearing in the 90s, that’s one fashion trend he wishes hadn’t faded.

He finds the only pair of jeans that don’t have any holes in them and one of his buttons up flannels which he accompanies with his leather jacket. He looks over to his nightstand where a small bottle of cologne sits. Rouge got it for his birthday last year but he never used it. What need did he have to smell nice. Plus, it was overpowering to his oversensitve nose so he never bothered with it.

But today felt like a reason to use it. So he took the bottle, removing the glass lid and spraying a small amount of his chest trying not to inhale the airborn particles.

He checked his hair in the mirror and stopped for a moment to stare at himself. He never put this much effort into how he looked. He never had a reason to care. Subconsciously he must've already deemed you important and special, he realised that as he stared into his own eyes.

He was in the deep end now.

Logan straightened up and moved to head to the garage where he said he would meet you. Waiting by his bike checking it over before they got going.

You on the other hand were pacing back and forth in your room. All types of clothes laying around your room, on your desk chair, bed and even the floor. You couldn't decide if you wanted to go with the Canvas pants in that deep shade of green with your black and white varsity jacket or if you wanted to go with the ripped jeans and the black and red flannel. You knew this was a date, but you didn’t know how dressy you were supposed to be or if he was taking you somewhere that required you to dress up a bit.

In the end you chose neither outfit and went with your informal-formal button up that could easily be tied into a crop top if the place wasn’t that fancy and your black set of canvas pants.

You make your way to the grave, hoping and praying no one will see you. Your breathing is controlled as you try to stop your emotions from overwhelming you as you reach the grave entrance.

You open the door and look around for Logan. You see him crouched down by his Harley Davidson. You knew it used to be Scott’s. But at this point it was an X-Men vehicle, so it was free use for anyone who got to it first. He was bent over by the chain on the back wheel. Cleaning it off with an old rag, clearing away any extra grease that might clog it up.

You stood silently behind him, watching him as he worked. The way his hands ran over the chain, taking care with the mechanics. Making sure to use a firm hand to clear away the gunk but not too firm to damage the hardware. The bikes hull was glossy black. Buffed and shined, completely spotless despite its constant use.

“Good evening, Professor Howlett” you say with a smirk on your face. He jumps slightly and turns around to look down at you. Standing up and cleaning off his hands on the rag.

“Don’t call me that” he huffs as he says it

“Rolls off the tongue don’t you think?” you say cheekily

“No, not from your mouth, since you aren’t one of my students” he grabs you gently by the cheeks and smushes your face.

“Are we gonna get going?” he says swinging his leg over the bike and kicking up the stand. He looks at you expectantly. And with the slightest hesitation you hop on the bike behind him.

He turns the key and the bike roars to life. The sound echoing throughout the garage in a thunderous uproar of 2 cylinders exhuming a plume of gasoline. You grab a hold of his jacket as he sped out of the garage entrance and down the street. Where the road was dimly lit by the setting sun and the sky was painted in beautiful pinks and oranges.

He sped down the street heading towards the town and you held onto him. Leaning forward to press your chest against his back, your head resting on his shoulder. Tilted towards the sun set you were riding alongside. Like a beautiful backdrop to match the closing scene of an old romance movie.

‘How clique is that’ you thought, smiling to yourself.

You could not believe that you were here right now, sitting on the back of this monstrous vehicle holding onto a man you believe would never have paid you any mind. This felt like a perfect dream.

Logan tried to focus on the road as the two of you sped down it. But with your heart beating against his spine and your arms around his waist all he could focus on was you. His eyes were on the strip of bitumen in front of him, but his mind was thinking of your face. Your windswept hair and your bright eyes shining in the dim light.

Once they had made it into town, he had taken his hand away from the throttle and instead trundled down the streets until he stopped on the corner of a small side street and hoped of the bike. Turning to offer you a hand as you swung your own leg over the bike.

“Since when did you become such a gentleman?” you ask him

“I’ve always been one, I just show it to those who deserve it” He smiles at you.

You smile back, some warmth creeping onto your cheeks.

He continued to hold your hand as the two of you walked through the entrance. He opened the door allowing you to walk ahead of him, inside was a quaint little restaurant. All the tables and chairs were a varnished wood, sitting in different arrangements for different parties. The waiters wore simple white button up tops not dissimilar to your own, the lady at the reception wore soft red lipstick on her lips. She looked over the two of you before checking the reservation under Logan’s name. She directed you two to a small seat by the window that had a direct view of the main road. As you walked you decided to tie your shirt up. Silently thanking yourself for picking versatile attire.

You sit down and Logan sits across from you. You hadn’t been out to many restaurants before. Between the MRD, and Xavier’s school you hadn’t been on many dates past the age of 16. And those could hardly be considered dates. Even in this quaint little restaurant you felt a swell of emotion rise in your chest. You pushed it down thought. First dates weren’t for gushing and heart felt confessions.

The two of you order your food. You decide to get some spinach and fetta ravioli, and he ordered a calzone. You haven’t had many well-cooked meals. Mostly old, reheated meals or whatever was given to you by the scientists monitoring you. Usually nonperishables that were bland and in amounts that were not sustainable.

‘What brought you to Xavier’s school?” you ask, trying to start up a conversation. So far the two of them had been quietly enjoying their meals, the silence wasn’t awkward but it was still silence and you wanted to get to know him. That was the point of this date, wasn’t it? You didn’t know, and for a moment you began feeling severely out of your depth.

“Charles sent Scott and Storm to find me. Told me if I gave him 48 and helped him figure out what Magneto was doing before the UN conference that he would try and help me with the memories of my past. But I guess after those 48 hours I got attached. Even when I left to go find answers I always came back.” He took another bite of his food

“And did he help you?” You ask

“As much as he could. I know most of my story now but…still got fracture pieces. Don’t know where some memories are still from or why I even have them”

“Like what?”

He thinks for a moment, searching through the catalogue of memories recently discovered

“I remember a lab. Being cold. I think I way laying in a tank, because the memory is distorted. The same way the world looks when you have water in your eyes. And I remember the pain. But other than that, I have nothing. I know it’s an important memory, but I don’t know why” He confesses this all so honestly. You look at him as he speaks, his eyes searching as he looks at his food. You don’t think he’s really looking at it though. He's somewhere else when recounting this.

He shrugs and takes another bite of his food, he looks up when he sees your hand reach out to hold the one resting on the table. You run your fingers over the knuckles on his right hand. He was so open about this, from here, listening to him speak, you could hear in his voice how badly he wanted to explain, to understand. You assumed that he hadn’t told anyone about this. The only person who probably knows any of this is Xavier because he was the person who pulled these memories to the surface. But that isn’t the same as being able to share the story. Share the memories.

“Do you remember anything else?” You want him to keep sharing, you want to know more about him, but you also want to give him the opportunity to continue to tell whatever version of his story he remembers. You can hear it in the ease of his voice that he needs this.

“I’ve got memories of battles, fights and wars without context. Some faces, there was this one girl…her name was Kayla, I think. And…a man named Creed. But I don’t know why I know these names or these people” He huffs slightly, it sounds like a laugh but it’s missing humour

“I don’t even know how old I am, because you can’t date the age of my bones due to the Adamantium and because my cells are constantly regenerating, they aren’t aged the same way another people would be. I’m sure you’re probably the same with your regeneration.”

You nod your head slightly, agreeing. You wondered what was worse. Not being able to remember or remembering everything. You and Logan were complete opposite ends of this. Your memories kept you up at night, and his fractured ones plagued his sleep. You are missing parts of your life at the vile hands of others, and his was completely taken from him without him knowing for so long. Logan tries so hard to remember, and you try so hard to forget.

Logan pulls his hand out from under yours and places it over the top. Running the pad of his finger over the tendons in your hand.

His calloused hands felt so gentle over your skin.

“Hey-“ he says trying to get your attention. Your mind had wandered, and he had noticed “-don’t worry ‘bout me yeah? This ain’t for you to worry about”

You look at him and smile sadly “I just hope you can get your memories back”

The two of you go back to eating your food momentarily, the mood having taken a solemn turn. Logan decides to ask a question now.

He didn’t bother to ask about your backstory, he knows that isn’t a story you are ready to share. And he didn't need to ask why you were at Xavier’s school. He was the one that had picked you up at Charles request. Instead he asked about your life, in a future sence

“What do you want with your life? I mean…Xavier gave you a second chance, but that doesn’t mean you have to be at the school forever. What do you want?”

You were slightly taken aback at his question, for so long future had never been something to be considered. But he was right, about Xavier giving you a second chance

“I haven’t really though about it, I mean…I just needed time to get any semblance of my life back together. And I’m still working on doing that. So I haven’t really thought about anything long term”

He nodded “But that’s still something. It’s still a plan”

You hummed in agreement

The two of you continued to eat in a calm silence with conversation permeating the air around you between mouthfuls. Once the two of you finish the meal you sit and talk over your empty plates.

Your elbows are up on the table, your head in your hands as you lean forward listening as he talks. Logan was talking about the time he met Rouge and all of the misadventures they’d had since they’d met. He was such a good friend to Rouge. And from where you were standing it seemed that he was like a big brother to her. You were glad the two of them had each other.

As the date came to a close the two of you felt at ease and much closer with each other. The hours spent talking had began the building of a bridge between the two of you. You both felt content with the amount of ground you had covered.

Like a crack slowly being filled in enough for you to meet in the middle. Perhaps not quite yet, but it was a start.

The two of you rode back through the night, the moon high above your head.

When you got back to Xaviers mansion the bike rumbled to a stop in the garage and he helped you off once more.

“Good thing we got back before a full moon, you might’ve turned into a werewolf on the bike” you joked

He laughed “Wolverines aren’t Wolves” he corrected you

“What are they then?” You ask a smile on your face

Logan softly grabbed your chin and tilted it up towards him “Maybe I’ll tell you on our next date? But you gotta promise not to look it up before then. Deal?”

“Fine-“ you concede. “-But next date is my treat”

He leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your lips and lets go of your chin

“Sure thing” And with that Logan took your hand, like the gentleman he is, and lead you back to your room before walking back to his own.

You watch him walk down the hall, your door cracked open just a peek. And when he was gone you shut it. As the door clicked shut you sank to the floor in front of it, your cheeks a bright red and grin stretched across your lips.

Sorry this took so long guys. I promise I'll finish this one before I start any more projects. Either way I hope you enjoyed and keep your eyes out for future parts!

Part 7!

[candiedcoffeedrops]

Your Voice (Jude Jazza x Reader)

Jude Jazza x Fem!Reader (Jude's POV/Perspective)

SFW -- WC: 1765

Fluffy, sweet indulgent nonsense that I thought of whilst avoiding sleep at 3 in the morning about a week and change ago lol.

Alright, so this is my first reader insert in thirteen years! I have been working on this for the last few days in between work and whatnot and most of the time was like, 10% writing and 90% worrying if I was writing this bastard man that I have grown to love very rapidly correctly or not. I'm open to suggestions on how to improve, I just ask that it be kind/respectful, please. :)

Thanks a million to @judejazza for inspiring me to work on this! You're awesome and I hope you like this!

Also! No beta, we die like the dude in the prologue.

Today had been long and irritating.

You had tagged along with me and Ellis today, as usual. An early morning of routine business turned into a busy afternoon of hunting down people who had broken contracts and taking them to task. That quickly escalated, and you nearly got yourself hurt. Again.

We had just gotten back to Crown Castle a few hours ago and had gone about our business. It had been a couple of months since your initial one-month tenure had come and gone, and you had stupidly decided that you were going to stay.

I couldn’t understand why. Crown wasn’t a place for someone like you—soft, kind-hearted, and ridiculously naive. You belonged somewhere safe, somewhere untouched by the dark and violent world I—and all of us—were steeped in. Yet, here you were, stubborn as hell, refusing to leave. Maybe you thought you could change us, make us better. Foolish. But damned if it wasn’t… endearing. Tch. I must be getting soft.

As I walked through the halls of the castle, I noticed light peeking out from under your door. You were still awake? It was definitely past midnight at this point. Curious, I approached the door and knocked with the knuckle of my index finger.

“Oi, Princess! The fuck ya still up for?”

“Oh! Come in, Jude!”

I opened your door and stepped inside, pushing the door shut with my foot, my hands in my pockets.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your head cocked to the side curiously.

I raised an eyebrow and spoke, “I asked first.”

“I can’t sleep, so I thought I’d get a book from the library and try to read myself asleep but… then I got sucked into the story.” You admitted as light pink dusted your cheeks, returning your attention to your book. You were sitting on your bed, atop your covers, eyes scanning the pages of an open book in your hands. Your room was lit by the lamp on your desk near your typewriter, casting a dim warm glow over everything, including you. Your hair framed your face, and you were dressed in your nightclothes like you had started getting ready for bed but never actually went to sleep.

I strolled up to your bed and plucked the book from your hands.

“Hey! Give that back!” You swung your legs under you, trying to swipe the book from me. “Jude!”

Ah, that cute little face and the way you said my name when you were all frustrated would never get old.

“Why? Ya readin’ somethin’ ya shouldn’t?” I teased, holding the book just out of reach. I took a step back, skimming through the pages. “Is that why ya can’t sleep? Gettin’ all hot ‘n bothered?” My eyes scanned the words.

She stood beneath the crumbling archway of the cathedral, where the moonlight filtered through the cracks and bathed her in a silvery glow, her heart pounding with the weight of forbidden love.

I rolled my eyes. Tch. How boring. Just some romantic penny dreadful. Figures. You would be into this kind of shit. Star-crossed lovers and all that nonsense.

“Ya realize none of this is realistic, yeah?” I asked, waving the book dismissively. Your cheeks puffed into an adorable pout, and I chuckled.

“I don’t read it for the realism, Jude,” you replied, matter-of-factly. “I read it because it’s entertaining. Fun.”

“What’s so fun about somethin’ so obviously false?” I asked, flipping through a few more pages while you leaned over, trying to grab your book again. I held it out of reach. “Yer gonna get it back when I decide ya can have it back, got it?”

You sighed, crawling back into bed, sitting against the headboard. “That’s better.”

“Why are you playing keep away with my book?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Repayment for nearly gettin’ yer clumsy ass hurt again.”

You growled lightly. Adorable. “But I didn’t! You were there!”

I huffed, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, well, ya shouldn’t need me to save ya all the time. Learn to stay outta trouble.”

You gave me a defiant look, your chin lifting slightly. “I’m not helpless, Jude. I can take care of myself.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Yeah? Then why were ya about to get skewered earlier?”

Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening. “I was just… distracted.”

“By what? Thinkin’ of garbage like this?” I asked, holding up the book and waving it lightly.

“It’s not garbage!” you shot back, your eyes blazing with a fire I rarely saw. “It’s a good story, and I like it.”

“Tch. It’s drivel, Princess.” I glanced at the open pages, scanning a few more lines with a sneer. “Moonlight, forbidden love... absolute nonsense.”

You crossed your arms, a stubborn set to your jaw. “If it’s so bad, then why don’t you prove it by reading some of it?”

I raised an eyebrow, a chuckle rumbling in my chest. “Ya want me to read this crap? To ya?”

“Yeah, I do.” You leaned forward, eyes gleaming with challenge. “I bet you can’t get through a single page without falling asleep.”

My tongue ran along my bottom teeth beneath my lip as I walked closer to you and leaned down, towering over you. “Is that a dare, Princess?” I looked at you, my smirk widening into a grin. “Alright, but don’t blame me when ya realize how bad it is.”

“Alright,” you said, settling back with a satisfied smile. “But you have to read it properly. Like you mean it.” You shifted, laying down on your side, facing me, your head cushioned perfectly by your pillow.

I snorted. “Fine. But if I read this and prove it’s trash, ya gotta stop readin’ this stuff.” I lightly tapped the spine of the book to your forehead. “It’ll rot yer little brain even more than it already is. Got it?”

Your eyes sparkled. “Deal.”

I sighed, sitting down unceremoniously into a chair that was by your bedside, my ankle crossed over my knee. “Alright, let’s see what has ya stayin’ up all night.” I cleared my throat, holding the book up to catch the dim light. “She stood beneath the crumbling archway of the cathedral…”

My mind drifted through the pages at first, words blurring together without much meaning. But then, something in the story caught my attention, and I found myself tuning in, focusing on the text. Gradually, I realized my voice had softened, losing its earlier sarcasm. It settled into a steady rhythm, low and even, as I read for a few more pages.

Every so often, I glanced up at you. Your expression, once filled with intense focus, began to relax. I watched as your eyes fluttered, fighting to stay open. You looked so determined to stay awake.

I trailed off mid-sentence and raised an eyebrow, my lips curling in another smile. “Oi. Sleepyhead. Still there?”

I got a mumbled affirmation in response, to which I chuckled through my nose and nodded. I set the book down before getting to my feet, careful that I didn’t make too much noise doing so. Well, at least you were about to finally get some much-needed shut-eye.

Before I could move away, you reached out and grasped my fingers with a gentle hold. My eyes widened as I looked between you and our hands.

“Wait. Don’t go yet.” Your eyes were trained on our hands, another faint blush spreading across your cheeks. “I want to hear more of the story.” Your voice was low and shy.

“Yeah?” I asked, tilting my head as I observed you, another smirk lifting my lips. “Can’t get enough garbage, can ya, Princess?”

“No, it’s not that.” Your blush deepened. “I just… I like the sound of your voice.”

Damn. Didn't see that coming. You’re clueless. Who the hell would say something like that? My voice—harsh, grating, like broken glass or nails on a chalkboard and that's what you wanted to hear? But of course, it’d be you, wouldn’t it? Blind to every possible warning, looking up at me with those big, pleading eyes. Damn you. And damn me for sticking around.

My hand was still in yours, your skin soft and warm against my calloused fingers. Your gaze lifted to mine, and you looked so… pitiful. Pleading.

I sighed. “Yer daft, ya know that?” I moved to sit back down, your hand still holding mine. Crossing my ankle back over my knee, I reopened your book, propping it up on my thigh. I glanced at you; some of your energy had returned, your eyes shining with that dumb happy look as you nuzzled into your pillow.

“Thank you, Jude.” Your voice was soft and sweet, making my heart lurch. I kept my face impassive.

“Yeah, yeah, be quiet ‘n listen.” My tone lacked most of its usual bite as I found the last page I had read.

My fingers were still in your grasp. Strange. I could’ve pulled away at any point, but I didn’t. Maybe you thought if you let go, I’d leave. While reading, I moved my hand, lacing my fingers around yours. I didn’t look up, focused on the page, but I heard a small gasp before you squeezed my hand slightly. Damn. Almost enough to make a man melt.

Without pausing, my thumb began rubbing yours absentmindedly. Your skin was soft, untouched by the harshness of this world. What a novel thing in a place like this.

It wasn’t long before I heard your gentle snoring. I chuckled softly, watching you for a moment. So peaceful. Dreaming without a care while a man you knew was dangerous held your hand and read you to sleep. You were insane.

I stood, marking the page I had stopped on, and set the book down on your nightstand. Reluctantly, I removed my hand from yours and shrugged off my coat, covering your sleeping form. You immediately melted into the warmth, your shoulders relaxing as a lock of hair fell across your cheek. My fingers hovered above you.

Do I dare?

Taking a breath, I gently moved the errant lock from your cheek without touching your face. You scrunched your nose, muttering softly before settling back into sleep. My hands found their way into my pockets as I gazed at you a moment longer.

“Sleep well, Princess,” I murmured under my breath. I crossed the room to turn your lamp off and then made my way to the door, pausing at the doorframe for one last look over my shoulder before exiting and closing the door quietly behind me.

This was fun! It was nice to slip into old shoes again and write something that I used to do so frequently. I may do more of these! Lemme know if you want to be tagged, should I decide to do more in the future!

Thank you, all! Have a great day!

[lawbreaker13]

There’s something about Elemental that I love but I can’t quite seem to articulate.

[Spoilers by the way]

At the end of the movie, Ember and Wade leave together so Ember can take her internship at the glass company. This is supposedly a full time thing for her, which means she’s moving. Like yeah, she underestimates herself like “oh it probably won’t go anywhere and I’ll be back home soon,” but that’s a very “ooh this is a big step and I don’t feel ready to move out” mentality (literally told my parents I’d be back at the end of my first year’s lease, it’s just a mental safety net, but boy was that a relatable line for me). Regardless of her lack of confidence in herself and this potential new job, she is moving out. And Wade is going with her.

She had said “I want to travel the world with you.” That’s great, and I hope they do, but that’s not what’s happening here. It’s said that this is several months, maybe even a year after the main events of the movie. The majority of the movie itself spans a couple weeks or so (edit: I counted, it’s about 8-12 days). So by the time they leave for Ember’s internship, Ember and Wade have been dating for a while. Anywhere between three months and a year. Wade is leaving with her, and it’s difficult for me to believe they’re going anywhere but the same place. Which means they’re moving in together.

Now I know that it sounds like I’m just freaking out and being incoherent about a ship, but the truth of the matter is, that’s really mature of Pixar.

Family friendly and kid-centric animation tends not to push anything but the “fall in love, kiss, get married, move in, have babies” pipeline. But what I loved about Elemental was that it portrayed a REALISTIC, HEALTHY, and MATURE relationship. One where the couple has arguments about real things that matter and after space, they talk it out. One where “I don’t understand” isn’t an invitation to shut down (even if Ember meant it that way in the heat of the moment), but an invitation to try and learn. One where anger and “I’m leaving” can be met with “I’m coming with you,” and one where the couple doesn’t just love each other right off the bat, they have to DATE MANY TIMES AND GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER, SEE EACH OTHER IN THE WORST OF TIMES, and THEN, realize they’re in love. AND they said it out loud, which doesn’t happen often either (edit: I am well aware that a week or two is a very short amount of time to fall in love, but I’m gonna cut them A LITTLE slack because it’s not like. 3 days, and also they seemingly saw each other every single day for those couple weeks and had the months after that. It’s rare, but sometimes, when you know, you know).

But beyond that. Beyond dating, getting to know each other, communicating and helping each other out, and deciding “yes, we can and should be together,” Elemental showed these two doing an adult thing together—leaving home and moving out. Because they are ADULTS. And the fact that I felt like this movie was targeted towards me and my peers the same way a PG-13 or R rated movie might be, strictly because of the realism in the character’s interactions and dynamic, that is something that I absolutely adore. Like, Zootopia was a kid’s movie with mature themes. Miraculous is a kid’s show with mature themes. Even Avatar: The Last Airbender was clearly targeted towards children, even though we all know it has something for everyone.

But Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. The Spider-Verse movies. And honestly, Elemental. These feel like our movies. Movies I’m glad the kids can enjoy, but they’re made for us. The 20- and 30-year-olds.

I’m just so happy to see animation studios treating adult characters like real people. Maybe soon people will start to recognize animation as a legitimate form of storytelling, too.

I loved Elemental. I really did.

[wanderingmind867]

These are some of my ideas for a possible season five of the Batman (1966) tv series. I already shared my post with ideas for season four of the tv show. So now i felt it's only fair to try and share all the stuff i had written down here. I think I really took inspiration from some post online where I read about how the League of Assassins was nearly in the Batman '66 comic book. And so that led to me taking Batman in the direction of some sort of spy adventure series for a while. I did manage to work in Man Bat though, so that's a positive for me.

Season 5: Season Five is almost all about Batman on his own. Robin and Batgirl make cameos occasionally, but Batman is now the leading star. Since Madge Blake would definitely be dead by Season 5, I'd have Aunt Harriet be written out too, and I'd replace her with Leslie Thompkins. I know this would all be a comic or animated show if adapted now, but I still want to have some small amount of realism.

This season would be split into two halves, just like the last season. Part One involves the first 30-40 episodes, and it focuses on the League of Assassins. It takes Batman all across the globe, playing the role of international man of mystery. And Part Two (which involves the last 30 or so episodes) focuses more on Batman back in Gotham. The show would get a bit more back to its lighthearted roots, but there'd still be elements of deep drama to the storytelling.

Episodes 1 and 2: Batman (now dealing with the loss of Robin, who left for University) ends up having to face off against The Riddler all alone. In a parallel to how season one of show opened with a dramatic episode involving The Riddler, this episode would reuse that theming to try and show the new direction the show would be taking.

Episodes 3 and 4: Batman deals with The Archer, an old villian who tried to act like a modern day Robin Hood. Now he's gotten even more blatant with his thefts, and he tries to rob Wayne Manor of all it's valuables (since he learned the Manor had less occupants since Dick Grayson and his Aunt left). Batman still manages to stop him, but The Archer really puts up a strong challenge.

Episode 5: Shortly after dealing with The Riddler and The Archer, Batman ends up running into Man Bat for the very first time. It's very much a one for one retelling of Man Bat's first comic story, including the fact that Man Bat escapes Batman's clutches at the very last moment.

Episodes 6 and 7: Batman runs into The Penguin and Egghead, both of whom are competing to steal different rare bird and/or egg themed objects. Batman goes out on the hunt for both of them, and he does eventually manage to capture them. But batman never even realized that these villians had more to their rivalry than just wanting the same objects. No, they were competing for the rights to join the League of Assassins, a prestigious criminal guild looking to expand it's tendrils into Gotham. Lola Lasagne was the one who came to them with the proposal, and she was using them as pawns in the league's schemes. Since she escaped punishment here, she'll be back to menace Batman some other time.

Episode 8: Batman encounters Man Bat again, and this time finally managed to subdue him. But is this really the end of the Man Bat story? Not quite, as there's one more part. But we won't get to see that part until after one more story, sad to say.

Episodes 9, 10 and 11: Batman runs into The Scarecrow, who's looking to break into a science lab to expand the power range of his fear toxin. Batman is too late to stop him, as The Scarecrow successfully tests the fear toxin on him. That's why this is a three parter, by the way. It's because part two is just one long flashback, finally introducing us to all the core events in Bruce Wayne's past. Losing his parents, being raised by his Uncle Phillip, deciding to become batman, etc. But in the end, Batman still manages to defeat Scarecrow.

Episode 12: The conclusion to the long Man Bat saga, wherein Batman has to cure both Kirk Langstrom and his wife Francine of their Bat transformations and mental afflictions. By crashing their wedding, Batman successfully manages to get to them in time to save them from themselves.

Episodes 13 and 14: The Cluemaster and Marsha, Queen of Diamonds team up to commit a series of deadly crimes involving magic and puzzling clues. Batman is almost defeated and killed by this mad team, but he eventually manages to capture them. And once he has them in custody, he learns that they were brought together by the League of Assassins, who had many agents and allies in the Gotham area. Marsha and Cluemaster refuse to rat on their allies, besides giving Batman a clue to investigate in London.

Episode 15: Batman takes off on an cruise to London, little dreaming that Catwoman (Julie Newmar) is also on the boat, planning to hold it for ransom. Her and Batman end up getting in a scuffle over it, but by the time their fight is over, the boat has been utterly ruined. So Batman sends her to jail, and then prepares to take a flight to London instead of a cruise.

Episode 16: With Batman leaving for London, someone has to guard Gotham. So Robin and Batgirl return to Gotham to guard it while Batman is away. While in Gotham, they end up having to deal with both The Joker and The Bookworm, who are competing to steal a rare copy of Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy, which has recently been acquired by a famous antiquarian living in Gotham.

Episodes 17 and 18: Arriving in London, Batman ends up fighting off against some old enemies of his: Lord Marmaduke Ffogg and Lady Penelope Peasoup. It turns out that they're the ones responsible for testing Cluemaster and Marsha to see if they were worthy to join the League. But before Batman can get to them, they distract him by sending The Puzzler (yet another of the league's operatives) to bait him into a trap.

The Puzzler leads Batman to a castle near Loch Ness, where him and another of the league's operatives, the young socialite known as Lady Ophelia Keswick bait Batman into a trap involving illusions and drugged food. Batman manages to escape from their trap in the castle dungeons, but he's too late to capture Lord Ffogg and Lady Peasoup. They escaped. But at least Batman can take The Puzzler and Lady Keswick to Scotland Yard. Then it's back to the United States, where Batman has to await news of the League's activities.

Episodes 19 and 20: Batman returns to Gotham City, only to find it's now been taken over by the combined forces of Nora Clavicle, Poison Ivy and The Siren. Turns out Nora Clavicle was an agent of the League too, and now she's planning an extra special trap for Batman and his allies. Locking him in jail and manipulating most of the city's women, it ends up falling on Batgirl and Batwoman's soldiers to save the day and rescue Gotham from the evils of these three villainesses.

Episodes 21 and 22: Robin comes to visit Batman (since he's gotten a two week break from university), and he shows up just in time to help Batman defeat Two Face and his newest scheme to cleave gotham in two (so everything is going to be deformed, like him).

Episode 23 and 24: Lola Lasagne is back, and this time she's gotten Catman to do her will. She's persuaded him that killing Batman would be the perfect way for him to get into the League of Assassins, and the League would be glad to let him continue his illicit big game hunting. So Catman gets involved, and ends up going after Batman, Robin and Catwoman. This is when Batman finally tells Robin about The League of Assassins. After this adventure, Robin goes back to University, leaving Batman alone once again in Gotham.

Episode 25: Batman and Man-Bat end up teaming up to defeat the Getaway Genius (who's broken off from Killer Moth since we last saw him). Only through their combined skills do Batman and Man-Bat manage to bring this crook to justice.

Episodes 26 and 27: Batman has finally found an informant willing to reveal the whereabouts of Lord Marmaduke Ffogg and Lady Penelope Peasoup to him, but just as he gets the info his informant is killed. Now Batman has to stop the last, seemingly desperate scheme of the League of Assassins: Sending Deadshot (one of the world's best hired assassins) out to challenge him. But Batman still defeats him, and then he heads off for Europe to find Lord Ffogg.

Episodes 28, 29 and 30: Batman heads to a small country nestled in the Balkans, where he finally manages to confront Lord Ffogg and Lady Peasoup. But before he can defeat them, they reveal their new ally in the form of Doctor Cassandra Spellcraft and her husband, Cabala. Yes, these two old foes of Batman were also members of the League of Assassins, and Batman has walked right into their trap!

Now trapped in a dungeon, unmasked and at the league's mercy, Batman ends up meeting Talia al Ghul (played by Sophia Loren), daughter of Ra's al Ghul, the head of The League. Teaming up with her, the two of them successfully manage to escape from the dungeon and confront our four antagonists. But in the middle of the scuffle, Lord Ffogg attacks Talia with a blade. And in retaliation, Talia shoots Lord Ffogg in cold blood.

After Batman comforts her for a little while, Talia leaves without a word. She leaves Batman to report Lord Ffogg's death, and to get the other three criminals to jail safely. But now that Batman has made himself known to the highest echelons of this secret society, it's only a matter of time before their leader comes looking for him…

[forgingtheblade]

OH GOD, I HAVE TO TAG THIS ONE FOR EYE HORROR, aka TECHNOBLADE HEAD PART 2

once all those good good fur bits from the last post are cut apart (which I do using a fresh or freshly sharpened xacto blade to create as little mess as possible), it’s time to start sewing them together. using those hash marks which i copy from the pattern to the fur i’ll start to line everything up.

you’ll notice he’s a wee bit saggy here—this is intentional! i wouldn’t usually want this, but pigs are very fleshy guys and I don’t want him to be cartoonishly smooth. those wrinkles will both hide some flaws and make him nice and pig like.

some of the looseness is just because things aren’t attached, though, like the bottom jaw is meant to be sewn into the lining both inside and outside of the mouth which will hold the fabric tightly to that piece.

many makers will glue fur down at this phase, and I do this to some extent but probably a lot less than most, except for where I’m putting those wrinkles I’m mostly gluing at the edges.

here i’m testing out placement for some tusks I made using thermoplastic pellets! you pour a bunch of them in boiling water and while they’re still hot they’re malleable and I basically rolled them into the shape i wanted. I added a couple drops of yellow and purple acrylic inks to color them. I think these are the ones I didn’t end up using, they were a bit too yellow for my taste.

next up is the eyes! which were! an actual fucking nightmare! after trying a few things using the actual eye holes i decided the look i wanted would be best served by glass eyes, in pursuit of semi-realism. pigs have the cutest little tiny beaded eyes and between awkward placement and the flatness of the mesh, it just wasn’t cutting it. so i bought glass cabochons and painted the backs! originally, the plan was to create eyelids using foam clay, which as pictured above, was kind of horrifying. because i was using fur and not something more skin-like, the flat eyelids really did not work well.

here i also glued in the painted mesh for my vision. note the size and the angle. my visibility fucking sucks in this head and that’s just a sacrifice i knew i was gonna have to make.

i ended up cutting out a section of the forehead fur to insert panels i glued the eyes into. i just used the actual fur for the eyelids, and it was marginally better than before!

that did not stop me from freaking out about how creepy and weird he looked at this phase though, which resulted in a frantic text to my dad asking for advice on how to fix his face. I was already probably at least 40 hours deep in this phase, and the uncertainty was not fun.

my dad told me that i had absolutely nailed the pig look (yes!) but the uncanny valley effect was hitting hard. he suggested making the eyes face forward a little more and try to add some humanity back into the face. i realized i had been so focused on making a realistic pig head that i forgot i was making TECHNOBLADE.

moving the eyes front facing helped a lot, as did stitching the fur into the mesh for the eye holes, and gluing in the wrinkles on the snout, but i think the real saving grace here was the EYEBROWS!!

i cut them out of foam, glued magnets into them and into the head, with a couple different positions for a bit of expression variety, and covered them in the same fabric as the ears and snout. and let me tell you, they make his little piggy face so so cute and expressive !! he really went from being just some pig to TECHNOBLADE!! and that’s what i wanted!!

but the heads not quite done yet here—one more post about the head coming up soon !!

[may-bee-its-just-me]

[COMMISSIONS OPEN]

!!Emergency!!

But also, no pressure! - A friend from work and his mom are having a hard time keeping a roof over their heads. They have have opened a GoFundMe, however sharing this link would doxx both him and myself. So, I've decided to open commissions to raise some money to help them out :]

Disclaimer; Due to my tight schedule, I will not be able to fulfill commissions as quickly as I have in the past. And, because of the sensitive time frame of this fundraising, I have not been able to make a fancy commission info sheet(s) like last time, so we're doing this old fashioned text; Apologies for the long read in advance. For more information about expected timeframe to receive your commission, please read through to the bottom.

What do you charge?

Headshot/Icon (from collarbone area and up): $25 USD Flat color, $45 USD Full shaded

Half body (from the waist up): $50 USD flat color, $75 USD Full shaded - Not available for ponies

Full body: $75 USD flat color, $100 USD Full shaded

Additional characters can be added for additional 75% of the original single character cost. (Example; 2 characters in a pic fully shaded will be $100 for one, and $75 for the other making the total price $175)

May charge extra for complex or busy designs that take longer to draw :(

Simple backgrounds (color, pattern, shapes) are no added cost, however Full background requests will be an additional $15 USD.

I do take style requests, but only with the understanding that I might not copy the style 100%

If you want something done but is not listed (Like turning a human character into a pony, a pony into a doll, character redesign, etc.) feel free to still contact me and we can discuss the logistics of fulfilling such commission!

I do not issue refunds

Commission Boundaries:

Will do:

Humans

Ponies

Fan art or OC

Context dependent:

Turning real people into styled portraits

Anthro (Its not my strong suit, but I can do some)

Special commission requests not listed

Hard No:

Heavy gore (a little blood or bruising is fine, but beyond that is forbidden)

Anything sexual or related to kink/fetish, nudity, lewd, or otherwise NSFW

I do not do realism, though I doubt anyone stumbling to my page will ask for that.

Anything that promotes a hateful message.

Money will be asked for UPFRONT - I know some will be sketched out by this. Please rest assured, I am not a con artist - only a broke artist trying to help another broke service worker out.

Money will be sent through CashApp - No clue if it's weird for online commissions to use CashApp, but it's what I'm used to and I will not be accepting other payment types. I will send my cash tag when it comes time to pay up.

If you want to post commissioned work from me on this platform or elsewhere, I only ask that you credit back to this tumblr blog and provide link where possible (I know some apps don't allow links though.)

For tax reasons, I will be putting a cap on raised money at $400 - All money will be going towards helping my Coworker/Friend out. If you'd like to see proof of your money going toward his fundraiser I can provide screenshots with censored personal information. I will be allowing commission slots until that $400 is as close to maxxed out as I can get it, starting at 4 commission slots and will provide updates if I can open any additional slots.

Slot 1: [OPEN] Slot 2: [OPEN] Slot 3: [OPEN] Slot 4: [OPEN]

I will be sharing blog names of those who are booking their commission slot, as well as posting finished commissions here on my artist blog - UNLESS otherwise requested. You may ask to stay anonymous and/or not have your finished commission posted on Tumblr/Discord, or anywhere else public.

Time frame expectations:

In the past I have been able to do commissions within a few weeks of receiving the DM regarding it - I will not be able to work that quickly this time. Due to a large project I'm preoccupied with until the end February, I will not be starting on these commissions until the beginning of March. Despite the delay on starting the art, I will ask that payment be sent ahead of time, with the trust in me that I will fulfill your order when March comes around. Pinkie promise!

I will work in order of when I received Payment, and thus as your name is numbered in the Slot list. I will work on them (ideally) one or two at a time. I do not do commissions with due dates unless the due date is far out. This will likely take several weeks before I finish the last commission, but I will do what I can to fulfill each one in a timely manner and communicate progress as we go forth with the creative process.

I will send you a message when starting the drawing, as well as sending progress pics after rough sketch, line work, and after flat colors. I can also provide additional progress pics upon request within reason. I only ask for patience and understanding of my circumstances, and a willingness to communicate back and forth through the process. :]

If for any reason you do not want me to message you with progress updates, please let me know.

All that being said, you can contact me through DMs to place an order and I will work with you from there.

Thank you for any and all contributions to this fundraiser! Reminder that there is no pressure to donate at all, I just know I've been asked about commissions lately and this is the least I could do to help a friend out. ^^

-Mod Bee 🐝

[eddiediazismyhusband]

(Please don't apologize. You may call it pessimism but I see it as realism and I truly appreciate it. I've seen people SO excited to see the cast back this week and all the excitement about the new season, optimism for canon buddie, what hair/tattoos/wardrobe might look like. And I feel bad because I don't want to rain on anyone's parade. But I cannot be bothered about whether Oliver will keep his fluffy hair or have any new tattoos or Ryan's mustache because I don't want another season of boring, repetitious storylines that don't do anything to the characters, especially those of color (thinking of the cartel and Mara right now)

I'm hopeful that because season 8 will be a full 18 episodes things won't have to be as rushed or thrown together at the last minute as season 7. But yeah, please don't apologize for your opinions because you're not the only one thinking similar thoughts <3)

im moreso apologetic because i dont WANT to be a debbie downer but its like…. ive been burned by shows (this one included) far too many times to be super optimistic and excited over things that could very potentially not be good for us… like i’ve said, most of the people i know with that mustache are awful human beings and when you add in the fact that gerrard also has a mustache like that AND that tim has been showing so little care for eddie as a character/care for poc characters as a whole it doesn’t seem far fetched to me that tim could very easily commit one of the most egregious acts of character death by veering eddie so far off the natural path simply to create cheap drama

like im so glad we seem to be getting fluffy hair buck… unfortunately fluffy hair buck doesn’t negate the fact that he’s currently in a relationship with a racist and that they’re ignoring 6 years of subtext built between he and eddie to try and further reiterate their “totally platonic dude bro” relationship, on top of giving eddie a look that exudes macho straight republican man…

(and don’t get me started on the fucking cartel plot or the mara plot bc what the actual fuck is wrong with tim minear 💀💀)

i just want them to stop dragging their feet on buddie while seemingly writing everything else as this whirlwind of convoluted messy nonsense drama plots and actually decided if they’re gonna commit to just ship/queerbaiting or to the subtext and plot theyve infused into the story since eddie’s literal first episode.

like personal feelings aside for the mustache, i think we’re giving the writers too much faith in portrayal of queer characters to actually say that it’s eddie “embracing queer culture” simply bc it looks like eddie mercury… we’re talking about the same writers who gave the main wlw couple a cheating plotline, have boiled down buck’s sexuality to just sex, and have relied on playing into stereotypes of mlm/wlw side characters rather thsn actually putting time and thought into it… like it’d be one thing to say “it’s a nod to freddie mercury” if the show has actually shown any kind of care beyond using sexuality plotlines for cheap drama (henren) but the reality is that they haven’t shown us that we can trust them in that way yet.

and who knows maybe it IS a nod to freddie mercury, but we don’t know for sure and im not going to set myself uo to be disappointed yet again when its just as likely to be s nod to them making eddie an antagonistic character with gerrard… yeah, that plot wouldn’t make sense for eddie as a character but neither did the vertigo plot so who’s to say tim wouldn’t go for it?

at the end of the day, i am just not looking forward to s8. nothing yet has given me any inclination to actually watch it until we are shown that they are making strides to actually tell a meaningful story that doesn’t rely on minorities for tokenism plots or putting them through needless pain again. yes this show is a drama, but there are other ways you can create drama (hell it’s a show about first responders) than putting poc characters through the fucking wringer time and time again, profiting off their pain, while simultaneously telling lowkey racist stories that involve the fucking cartel coming out of nowhere to burn down a LA fire captain’s house???

so yeah, i’m just not feeling great about it. i also don’t wanna rain on anyone’s parade but i don’t wanna get my own hopes up when i would just be setting myself up to be let down yet again by these writers

[cadrenebula]

Video Game Ask Answers

Decided to answer these like @mist-touchedxiv chose to here. My answers are below the cut cause it's a little lengthy with 31 questions. Reblogging with my answers would have really made it lengthy. XD So I did my own post for them.

Last game you finished -It's been a while since I played a game with an end. Persona 5

Game(s) you’re currently playing -FFXIV, Disney Dreamlight Valley, Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom

1-3 games you’ve played in the past 12 months that you really enjoyed -FFXIV, Disney Dreamlight Valley, Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom

Do you like to get 100% achievements/trophies? -Nah. I like getting trophies but I long ago gave up on 100% in any game since some of the trophies are brutal for me to get. I game for fun not frustration.

Game(s) coming out that you’re looking forward to -Assassin's Creed Shadows

A series you’ve enjoyed since your early days of gaming and still enjoy to this day whether it still has games coming out or is one you return to -Wild Arms

A series you’ve lost interest in -Soul Calibur

A series you haven’t played but are interested in trying -Legacy of Kain

A game you played completely blind with no prior knowledge of and enjoyed/loved -Devil May Cry

A console and/or handheld you’ve never played but would like to try -Sega Saturn

Do you prefer ‘blank slate’ main characters you make yourself or otherwise project onto, or characters with a set personality and backstory? -I am good with either choice really. Depends on the story.

A character you particularly like in the game you’re currently playing -Koana from FFXIV (I picked a character from the current expansion to fit the question better)

Quick, name the first song from a game that comes to mind -Song of Storms from LoZ Ocarina of Time

A song that’s sure to hit your nostalgia buttons -If You Still Believe from Legend of Dragoon

Do you have a backlog and do you keep track of it? If so, how? -I very much do have a backlog. XD An it would be easier to keep track of games I've finished than which I haven't.

A game you’d like to replay that you haven’t -Legend of Dragoon

A game you didn’t finish but would like to get back to or restart someday -Tales of Vesperia. Lost interest towards the end when I needed to do some level grinding. I hate level grinding.

A game location you really like -Empyreal Paradox in FFXI and the battlefield inside

A game you started up for the first time and you knew from the start it was going to be great -Legend of Dragoon

A boss you think is really cool -Lady Harken from Wild Arms

A boss that was disappointing -Airy from Bravely Default

A game ending that’s really stuck with you -Devil May Cry 5

A “Wow” moment of awe -The final fight for Chains of Promathia in FFXI. I literally gawked at the battlefield until the NPCs forced me into the fight.

A game with a cool art style -The Persona game series

A game’s art style that had to grow on you -LoZ Wind Waker

Realism or stylized? -I'm not sure I lean towards one more than the other. Because art style can make or break the choice of if I want to play a game but I'm not that huge on the realism since most of those are game types I'm not big into anyways.

A game you love the atmosphere of -Kingdom Hearts

Pick a series you like. What was the first game you played for it? Was it a good starting point? Would it still be a good starting point now? -Wild Arms. It was the first RPG I really got into. And I think it's still a good starting point now. Even if you played the remake rather than the original. None of the Wild Arms games require you to play the others to understand them.

On average do you have one game or multiple games going? -I tend to have a few going in recent years. But usually only 1 that I'm not waiting on more story to release. I usually have 1 solo RPG going, XIV, and Disney Dreamlight. DDV doesn't have a big story and is a bit more like Animal Crossing in I can do what I want and how much I want at a time. XIV of course I have to wait between updates for more story and I can only do so much content grinding before I need a break again. My current RPG to take a break is LoZ Echoes of Wisdom.

Game you think you’ll finish next? -No idea. I am really good at getting distracted by a XIV patch or something new just as I get near the end of a game. That is what happened to my Baldur's Gate playthrough... XD

Someone has never played a video game before but is open to trying any genre. What game would you recommend as their first? -Hmm… If they want something with a story, I'd go with the original Wild Arms. It's not difficult to play and it's what got me into gaming. If they want something relaxing I'd say Animal Crossing New Horizons. If they want something less turn based and more actionish I'd say a game from the Ys series or LoZ series since most of their stories are pretty standalone.

[petalsofyouth]

my girl. pt1. | ran haitani x reader

tw: nothing that really is worth mentioning? alcohol consumption, a bit of violence (nothing graphic) and magical realism (if you squint and understand it) and that's all i think

wc: 9536

a small note before you begin! it was supposed to be a one shot, but then i was writing it and writing and writing and the story never ended so i decided to split it into two parts. i know majority of people prefer when the text is rather on the short side so here you all go. another thing i wanna mention is that this story is impromptu and it might show. i haven't had even a vague idea of the plot or vision or anything when i began to write it and the only thing in my head was ran taking long walks everywhere around Tokyo and then i heard the chime and that's it. this is probably why this story is going to be from ran's pov and a little bit of rindou's (i love him too much to not include him). okay, that's all! thank you for reading & i hope you like it.

~

The blue dim light from street lamps enveloped small grey buildings giving them an alien impression. Neon signs mingling with one another only add to the whole impression and once again Ran felt as if he was on some other planet in another universe. Or that it was very far in the future. As if he somehow found himself in 2808. 

But it was early spring of 2007 when cherry trees hadn't yet bloomed and a chilly wind roamed through Tokyo reminding its habitants of a long cold winter that was now already gone, a small odds and ends of it remaining in the corners of dark alleys. 

Still, this vague rapture between reality and Ran’s mind was pleasant. He had no problem dissociating from his life even for a couple of fleeting moments. Released from a prison not even a month ago - after Izana’s death he hadn’t had time to mourn -  these breaks felt deserving. He needed to rest, to stop what he was doing and for once breath without thinking what awaits him next. 

The situation wasn’t stable in the least. Roppongi was still theirs. It always would be. But there were other new gangs and Ran knew that someday their name won’t be enough. They need to do something - to be someone - to keep the Haitani brand they built well respected. The easiest option, of course, would be joining a gang, but Tenjiku was still alive in his chest and beating. And while there were in fact no S-62 generation anymore, dead and gone into eternity with Izana, it felt like a piercing sword of betrayal between his ribcage, to even think of a possibility to be a part of another formation. 

Yet, there would be another gang. Another defeat and maybe [for sure] a lot of other deaths. Ran knows all this and he knows that the time will come soon. Once South is released. He still has time though. Time to leave his new car in one of the one-way streets and wander around pretending his life is not his. 

A moment of weakness no one would ever know of. 

Today, he is in Nakano. He doesn’t remember the last time he was here which means it was insignificant or that he never stepped here before. The latter is quite impossible though. Ran has been everywhere around Tokyo. Never outside. This huge city  his own perfect golden cage. If he didn’t love luxury and comfort so much he would’ve thought he was trapped. But he doesn’t think this way and so he goes down the street observing people and shops. His mind is resting. 

Everything is okay. 

For a while. 

It’s evening. Somewhere between six and eight. It’s always hard to tell the exact time at these hours. Everything seems blurred and solid and one. The neon lights, street lamps, shops, buildings and people. Him, too. Ran indulges in this euphoric feeling. Hands in pockets of his sweats he looks around trying to pretend as if he is searching for something that waits for him. There should be something that desires to meet with him. He strongly believes in it and when he spots an old wooden sign that seems painfully familiar, he nods to himself that’s it and goes inside through an open door. An invitation or maybe just a coincidence. He closes the door once he is inside and insubstantial tingling of the bell echoes throughout the place. Ran raises his head, tilting it to the left and sees a glass hand painted chime just above him. There’s flowers all around it and he doesn’t need to squint his eyes to see that it’s purple orchids. His chest is warm then and he stares at the chime for a little longer than he should, a strange feeling occupying his chest. Whatever it is that brought him here was kind enough to welcome him. Ran doesn’t think it is a coincidence anymore. 

Inside, the store is bigger than it appears from outside. Long corridor leads to a spacious room and it’s only there that Ran understands that he is in a bookstore. He tries hard to remember when was the last time he picked up a book and the memory that resurfaces is not pleasant. It was back in juvie when he was around fourteen going fifteen. The book was a present from one of their teachers there and Ran to this day couldn’t understand why an old woman chose him out of everyone else. He wasn’t by any means academically bright nor was he showing a special interest in studies. [He dropped out of school the day he was released; he simply never showed up]. Yet, the teacher chose him. She gave him the book and spoke with him a little. What about Ran can’t remember. He barely listened to her back then. The book was a strange useless weight in his hands, but there was something sincere in the way she gifted it to him and that’s why later sitting beside Rindou on the rotten grass in the yard of their facility Ran read it from cover to cover. He liked the book. 

It was Yukio Mishima’s “The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea” and the story grasped him so much it was all he could think of for the next few months. But then they got released and his head was busy with new names in Roppongi and Tenjiku and other gangs and when all of these disappeared in ashes and he went back to juvie for the second time, he remembered the book that was safely stored in his and Rindou’s apartment in the box under his bed. But thinking about it only brought silent blue rage as he suddenly understood the meaning of the book. His eyes wide and empty, Ran wished an old teacher appeared and maybe tried to protect him from his fate again - because he deserved a second chance, didn’t he? everyone does - but no one came to save him and this time Ran left empty-handed with a promise from South as a bitter reminder that there was never an alternative to his fate. 

Met with floor to ceiling bookshelves full of books Ran observes book spines, colourful and not. He reads a few that stand out to him most. All authors and titles unknown to him. He knows he ought to leave. There’s nothing for him to do here and books are certainly the last of his interests. He should go home. Get a take out for him and Rindou, maybe invite Kakucho over and watch some TV or maybe they all should go out to a nice club, get drunk and fuck some pretty girls. 

Yeah, that would be nice. 

That is what he should do and that is exactly what he doesn’t do. 

He goes forward through the paper jungle until he spots a man standing behind the round counter. He is writing something, totally engrossed, his head down as he stands, slouching a little so the paper is right before his face. Ran doesn’t think he made any noise, but the man composes himself and looks up, smiling at him. The smile is warm and welcoming. 

Ran feels seen. 

“Hello. Are you looking for something specific or just browsing?” The man’s voice is calm and confident. He also sounds very kind and Ran is a tiny bit ashamed when he shakes his head an affirmative no which can be clearly translated into i don’t really know what I am doing here. The man laughs. “You can grab whatever catches your eye and read it right here to see if you like it. We have a reading zone right over there. In the next room.” 

When Ran stays where he was too lost to say anything, the man smiles again and this time he comes out from the counter and goes up to Ran. “What was the last thing you’ve read?” 

There’s no need to think much. His last book was his only book. “It was Yukio Mishima.” 

The man is surprised and he doesn’t hide it. He whistles. “The Sound of Waves, I suppose?” 

“No. The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea.” 

“A gruesome one, but reflective. Did you like it?” 

They chat about the book for a good half an hour and by the end of it Ran is pretty much relaxed. His usual passive confidence running through him again. It’s been nice to discuss the book with someone and for a pretty obvious reason, Ran imagines it was his teacher from juvie and not this man, an owner of the bookshop as he finds out during the talk. It’s wrong to pass one kindness shown to him onto another kind person, but it does help him to redeem himself and so he doesn’t argue with his mind much. 

With another book, this time “The Honjin Murders” under his arm, Ran sinks into the couch in the so-called reading room which is not really a room. Rather an extension of the main large one with beige noren in the middle. But  it has two couches, a table and a kettle with five cups and that’s all that it needs. It also has a huge window looking at traditional Japanese garden. The sound of running water in a small pond and green colour of permanent velvety moss is so calming that Ran loses himself in the scenery for the longest time. Book forgotten in his lap. 

He stays in the bookstore until the sky grows dark and silver stars are the only thing that make the vastness of this world bearable. 

“So. What do you think about it?” The sudden intrusion of the man into Ran’s little world doesn’t bother him. It’s calm and peaceful and safe here. And Ran stays Ran. The need to be in another's skin is gone. “Liked it or should I retire as a bookshop owner?” 

There’s a certain prominent playfulness in the man’s words, but Ran misses them, letting them slip into the past. He checks the number of the page he stopped on and making a mental note to remember it, turns to the man. “It’s good. Haven’t read much, but it’s interesting. I want to buy it.” Ran stretches his legs before him and looks around the room, his gaze stopping at the window and as some hours ago he finds himself admiring the raw beauty it carries. Whoever composed it saw the world differently and take it apart all you want, one thing after another, you would never quite understand the meaning behind it. It will always slip away from you. It’s almost like losing a thing you’ve never ever had. But sadder. More melancholic. 

“It’s my wife's last creation.” The man says and for the first time his voice isn’t cheerful. It’s barely there. “For our family, that’s it.” 

There’s nothing to be said and so Ran doesn’t utter a word and in his silence hides an understanding that is more meaningful than any form of consolation. 

They sit in the room - that in the pure meaning of the word is not really a room, yes, it just has a plain beige noren behind the couch - admiring the view for a little more. Each hanging to the illusion of their own; both no more than small sparkles of short lived joy. 

The silent magic is taken away as sudden as it settled down and then the unceasing garden turns into simply well composed rocks and azaleas. The change is devastating, but it’s not forever, and so it’s okay. Besides, the change is you. It has your eyes, your nose and your voice. 

“Dad, I am good to go. Don’t forget to eat please. I made nikujaga. Okay? I would’ve loved to have dinner together, but I have an assignment to finish and… oh. I am sorry. You aren’t alone. Sorry.” 

It has your lips too. And your smell. Persimmons, nail polish and glossy magazines.

But for now Ran doesn’t know it’s yours. 

For now the only thing he is sure of is that he wants to come here tomorrow and maybe gaze at the garden and read a book and disturb the orchid chime at the door to hear its sweet melody. And maybe see you too, because his want to pretend being someone else somewhere else, is gone. He wants to be Ran Haitani and be accepted as such more than anything. And he burns with curiosity. He burns with longing. 

You don’t exchange a word and Ran leaves the bookstore with a gift from your father and a promise to come by again. It’s really rare to see young people in here and having you here reminds me of me so many years ago, it makes me twenty again, you are twenty, aren’t you. 

That night he also finds out that the family business restaurant down their street makes quite good nikujaga. 

They eat it together with Rindou while reminiscing about those who will never come back.  

*** 

The next day Ran is at the bookstore again.

And the day after that too and after a week or so he is considered a regular. 

He doesn’t see you often and in all honesty he isn’t coming there for you. It’s the whole atmosphere of the place. The garden and the chime and the small talk with your father that draws him back. 

You, a fleeting presence of the bookstore, he only has seen a couple of times. Not more. Once with a pile of cartridge paper of various sizes under your arm you were cursing under your breath trying your best to go down the stairs. And then the next time when you brought two bento boxes to the reading area where he and your dad were talking about your dad’s many voyages of his youth. Ran remembers the conversation particularly because he likes listening to your dad’s stories of the world. Never once in his life was he outside of Tokyo, your father's memories of other lands become his. 

The meal you brought - and made yourself - is quite simple. It contains rice with seaweed, grilled fish and two hard boiled eggs. Along with some fresh sesame spinach salad on the side. It smells delicious and as you set two bento boxes on the table you go back upstairs and this time return with two bright yellow Yebisu cans. 

Sudden kindness is sour to Ran. He freezes in his place, eyes on the bento box, as he listens to the small conversation you make with your dad. Confusion must be evident on his face, because the next second he hears your voice. You are speaking to him. “Do you not like beer, Ran?” 

“No. It’s fine. I do.” His reply is simple and not efficient. It doesn’t make you any less doubtful that everything’s alright. 

So you ask again. “Is it the eel then? Dad has tonkatsu leftovers upstairs. Would you…”

"No. No. It’s fine. Thank you very much. I appreciate it.” 

You nod, shrugging your shoulders. He probably doesn’t sound very convincing to you, but that’s the best he can offer you. Not having anything more to say to him, you say to your dad that you are going home now. You have a project to finish. You wish them both goodnight. 

If your dad noticed Ran stiffness he doesn’t mention it and Ran is very grateful for it, because while he always knows what to say, he finds it very hard to find an easy way to explain how and why this innocent act of compassion, a demonstration of belonging, irritated him. 

He is ugly on the inside and scarred. 

He doesn’t want you to know that. 

[He doesn’t want to remember it either.] 

But today is not the day you will discover it and so he can breathe freely, planting a hope that maybe you won’t ever know him for what he is outside of this place where he kills every bright part of him with a single strike of his baton.

*** 

During the next couple of months Ran comes to the conclusion that he should stop visiting a bookshop. 

It’s not a sudden decision. He has a whole list of reasons ready, but as he goes over them in his head, he finds himself already on the porch in Yokohama. The chime sings and he is once again welcomed by your father to come inside, to have an interesting conversation and maybe help out a little bit if he doesn’t mind [he never does], only to eat a delicious meal you made as a pleasant conclusion to the day. 

Ran is young, but he is no fool and he knows that soon enough he is going to get attached to this place and he simply can not afford it. South is going to get released and then they will form something big and serious and he is going to be involved. The nice little illusion he created here has no place in his world. He should stop coming. 

That’s what he decides when he steps through the door one particularly warm golden evening in spring. It’s unusually quiet. No customers inside and your father isn’t at his regular place behind the till. Ran frowns. His blonde eyebrows coming together in the middle of his forehead. He stops looking in between the shelves. He finds nothing and so he goes behind the noren, to the reading zone. 

“Oh. I thought you won’t come today.” You sit on the chair with your right leg to your chest, a bottle of black nail polish standing on the table in front of you. 

Ran bites back a smile. You painting your toes inside of the bookstore is so out of place, it’s almost comical. “Why would you think that?” 

You don’t answer his question and it seems as if you haven’t heard him at all. He is compelled to repeat it, but instead he sits on the sofa opposite you and watches you doing your nails. The whole task is relaxing. You don’t mess up even once which is pretty much impressive. He whistles and you raise your head, looking at him, confused. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. You are just being really good at it.” 

There’s no reply to this either. You continue painting your nails and he continues watching you. He doesn’t think about anything in particular and rather than moving his eyes along with the brush tip, he remains impassive. If you think he is being weird or creepy you don’t say it. In fact, to Ran it seems as if you have forgotten about him altogether. Your presence is strong to him, but his doesn’t touch you in the slightest.

He is both. Disappointed and glad. 

It is his last time here - or so he thinks - and a premonition stored up in his chest is vibrating. It says to him that if you notice him he won’t be able to escape. [He only hears the second half of the sentence. He only hears what he wants to.] 

Relaxed and focused on your toes he loses his usual alertness so when he finally understands that all your nails are glossy back and you have stopped applying the colour, he raises his eyes. Firstly looking at the closed bottle of polish as if to make sure you are really done and only then at you. 

You are staring. You are noticing. Ran shivers. 

“What’s your height?” You ask. 

He frowns. The question is unexpected and he swears he somehow hears the chime’s sweet melody. But no sound comes after and he knows he is mistaken. 

“I am 1.83.” 

You lick your lips, tilting your head to the side and the smile that graces your future are adorable and terrifying at the same time. “Good. Do you mind helping me out in one of my school projects? I am at Bunka and I have this project coming up where I need to give yukata a modern touch. So I’ve been thinking if you don’t mind that I can use you as my reference? You won’t do much. I will just take your measurements and then based on you create a yukata. What do you think?” 

There’s not just one, but so many reasons as to why he should say no, stand up and leave the bookstore behind him forever. The garden, the chime, the kindness - everything - should become a nice memory. The one he would go back to in the moments of discouragement. In the shameful fall of weakness. 

There’s too many of them and Ran can’t name even one. So he nods at you. Yeah. Sure. Why not? 

“Thank you. I really wanted you to agree. I’ve been thinking about suggesting it to you since I first saw you.” Your fingers graze over your fresh pedicure. To check if it’s dried. You are obviously satisfied, because you pull out twirled napkins from in between your toes and stand up. “Do you like oranges? I am gonna go upstairs and bring some for us.” 

When you are behind the couch he sits on, you stop. 

“But you are peeling them. I hate peeling oranges.” 

It’s not a drastic confession, but Ran feels like he just found out your sweetest secret. 

*** 

Pre-summer breeze carries a faint smell of changes and new times. 

It doesn’t specify when and what it will bring. It doesn’t make it easier and the barbed metal ball in the pit of everyone’s stomach twirls, scratching insides. They bleed; skin torn apart and crimson. 

Everyone acknowledges this lazy slow shift. No one does anything in particular about it, because, well, there’s nothing to be done. What is for you will find you anywhere: on a busy Shibuya crossing meddled between thousands of people, in your sunny apartment where you sleep on the floor after a full day of school or in front of the evergreen garden in a small bookshop in Yokohama. 

There’s no point in trying to escape fate and therefore there’s no point in worrying and stressing out. The only thing Ran does - that he can think of as a succumbing to summer breeze  - is wearing a too thick jacket for the already sunny and warm weather. When Rindou points it out he says he is doing it in the name of fashion. His younger brother grimaces, but leaves it at that. It sounds pretty much like Ran’s usual bullshit. No need to worry. 

And so life goes on and the wind continues to blow.

*** 

His help in your project consists of standing still as you take his measurements. 

That’s all. 

The first time you do it he asks you if he needs to do something else and when you say no he is both, disappointed and relieved. Disappointed because he finds it being your model more boring than he expected and relieved because you don’t need him to do anything and that means only one thing - you won’t have any expectations of him and he won’t fail. In your eyes he will remain as Ran, a twenty years old man, who once in your life used to visit your father’s bookstore for a couple of months and helped you with your fashion school project and then disappeared and you’ve never heard about him after that. 

Becoming your fleeting good memory is what he thinks he wants.

*** 

“I need you to raise your hands and hold them like that for a minute. Okay?” You say patting his shoulder as you emerge from behind him. This is the fourth time you’ve taken his measurements. He doesn’t understand why you need to do that so many times, but he doesn’t ask. You bite your lip - a small habit you have when you think really hard about something - and eye his earring. “Does it match your eye colour? You are so corny.” 

He smirks and watches you wrap tape around his underarms and then chest. Ran only speaks when you sit on the floor near the table and scribble down the numbers. “I like it. Do you not?” 

“You being corny or your earring?” You ask him, your attention on your journal, not him. Some days ago he asked you to show him your sketches of the yukata and you declined, totally exaggerating in his opinion the importance of not a single soul intervening in your creative flow. 

“Both.” 

“Let me think about it.” Your voice decreases its volume as you speak and by the end of the sentence it’s a small whisper. As usual you don’t reply right away and Ran loses his hope of getting the answer, but after a while you close your journal and turn to him. “I don’t mind either. I am guessing they both make you you and so I am okay with that.” 

He thinks you barely know him and he barely knows you, but he believes your words nonetheless. There’s a sheer simplicity in them and that makes him trust you all the more. You might not be very familiar with each other and you are absolutely unaware of what he is doing, what he has done and what he will do in the future. You don’t peer. You don’t ask him unnecessary questions. You have no idea what kind of person he is and yet you still accept him. In Ran eyes this is considered courage and kindness and everything good in this world combined. Everything he doesn’t deserve. Everything he still wants. 

And so the next day when Ran comes into the bookshop and sees you and your father at the till, he makes sure you notice the tattoo on his arm and when your father’s forehead is full of wrinkles, he thinks this is it, he lost this place forever, your father asks if it’s a full body or just an arm? He says, i have a tattoo too, but it’s smaller than yours. 

“It covers the left side of my body. My brother and I got it in juvie.” 

“I think we need tea for this conversation.” Your father answers and when Ran understands that there’s no anger, no resentment, no rejection and only acceptance, he realises that after all he was stupid to believe it would be otherwise. 

The chime and the garden already whispered it to him. He was just too self-centred to notice. 

*** 

The revelation about that certain part of Ran’s life brings obstacles in your work. You tear down your initial sketches and beg Ran to strip his clothes so you can see his tattoo. You plead, saying that it’s really really really important and crucial and you need to see it for you to understand him better. To make his yukata perfect. 

For obvious and understandable [not for you] reasons he rejects. You pout, but all charms you send his way, simply do not work. At last, he lets you turn around his left arm however you want and after the second hour when the left part of his body gets numb and sore he has a suspicion you are doing it on purpose. A little revenge. 

“You know, you are making it difficult for both of us.” You sigh, placing two steaming cup noodles on the table. The bookshop has been closed for an hour or so. It’s quiet, the only noise coming from upstairs where your dad is watching what seems to be MTV Japan. Ran only knows because sounds are familiar. Rindou likes watching MTV too. “I don’t understand why you are being so modest.” 

You hand him metal chopsticks and as he takes them he also grabs your wrist. Somehow, you aren’t confused. You turn to him and the calm expression on your face startles him. He lets you go. 

“Just don’t feel like it.” He says instead, his shoulders going up and down. None of you don’t speak as you eat. If Ran wasn’t as observant as he is, he would've thought you are listening to Masaharu Fukuyama’s song. But he is observant and he knows that you are just pretending to listen to your dad’s TV. He notices you stealing glances of him every now and then and when he catches your eyes with his, you bashfully turn away. It’s too obvious that you want to ask him something and he allows you to do it, but when enough time passes and all opportunities are lost, he places the cup on the table and with elbows on his knees, asks you what the matter is. 

As expected you don’t answer right away. Hiding behind a pink cup you look at the garden illuminated by stone lanterns. “Are you uncomfortable with me?” 

“No.” His response is immediate and you turn to him, surprised. 

“No? Then why?” You scrutinise him, he - a mere subject before you. “Are you by any chance..?” 

The last sentence is unfinished as it blurts out of you so quickly and you stop so abruptly as your eyes widen that Ran already knows what you wanted to say. An amused smile appears on his face. He laughs. “I am not a virgin. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Why would I worry about it?” There’s an offence in your voice and he laughs some more. 

He laughs and laughs and laughs stopping only when your eyes soften and lips form the prettiest smile he has ever seen. “What?” It’s his time to wonder now. 

“Nothing.” You look past him at the clock that hangs on the wall between bookshelves. Even with TV noise Ran can hear them counting the time.  “I am going to head out in twenty minutes.” 

“You don’t live here?” “Oh. No. I live in Shibuya. In my mom’s house.” 

“We are almost neighbours. My little brother and I live in Roppongi.” 

“I suspected just as much.” 

When he laughs again, the sparkle in your eyes reappears, but this time it is familiar [even if it’s too far to be burnt by it yet] so he doesn’t stop.

*** 

In the middle of the summer, on a hot July day, Kakucho asks Ran to help him do his annual shopping. Despite the air feeling like dragon breath and unreasonable early 12pm meeting, Ran agrees. It might be because he adores shopping or because he hasn't seen you in a week and there’s a good chance he might stumble upon you on Cat street. It’s in Shibuya and you’ve mentioned before that you live close to it. That’s of course if his calculation is right and you are already back from your trip to Osaka. 

There is a special nook in Ran’s brain where he holds the memory of you telling him you are going to be away for a couple of weeks. It was the first time he was allowed to be inside of the bookstore's garden. The day was sunny and pleasant in a non-caring manner. Inside of the hugely oversized white t-shirt - that Ran suspected was male - you had sour cherries, carrying them in the pouch of the said t-shirt. It reminded Ran of kangaroos and therefore of Rindou who liked this weird animal when he was little. 

When you sat down on the wooden floor, boards under you squeaking, cherries fell in your lap and Ran stared at them for the longest time. Bloody red on sparkling white. He was no artist, but in that moment he wished he was so he could immortalise this moment forever. Have someone else to see with the same raw emotion he did. If you noticed his hesitation you didn’t say anything. You spoke to him about your best friend, her grandparents and trip to Osaka. Saying you won’t be in Tokyo for two weeks or maybe a bit more. You didn’t know, really. You were excited and happy. 

Sitting inside the garden Ran ate cherries from your laps. Fruit scattered along you seemed sacred. As you were telling him how much more delicious takoyaki was in Osaka than it could ever be in Tokyo, you glanced at him. Your lips pink from cherries tugged in a pretty smile and Ran knew he would eternally miss this very moment; you.  

Wanting to accidentally meet you now was not a surprise to him. 

The yes of course I’d go with you to Kakucho was too said very easily. Much to Rindou’s suspicion. 

Despite his desire to see you he doesn’t search for you and so shopping and hanging out with Kakucho is pleasant. Ran truly loves his company. Kakucho is comfortable to be around and he is too polite and too kind and sometimes Ran catches himself thinking that Kakucho has no business being a criminal. He isn’t like them. He is [almost] innocent. But then Ran remembers the way Kakucho’s eyes light up in a fight. How he lands one blow after another and when his opponent is defeated, sprawling on the ground, and the look full of enthusiasm on Kakucho’s face shatters all illusions Ran might have about him. 

It’s truly peculiar how there’s perhaps two Kakucho that never meet. One that has a kind heart and gentle soul and the other one that is corrupted by anger and rage. Ran has seen both of them. Ran wonders if he is the same. If there’s good in him too. 

He sees you first. You stand outside of a shop with hands full of bags and a cup of an iced coffee. You are wearing a plaid short skirt, a blouse and a beret and while the outfit is perfectly composed it seems too out of season. But by now he knows you quite well to tell that it was intentionally done. He thinks you look beautiful [as you always do] and Ran allows himself to admire you a little bit more, eyes lingering on your face. 

“She’s way out of your league, Haitani. Didn’t think she’s your type. More like Rindou’s.” Attentive to details as usual Kakucho immediately notices Ran’s interest in you. They both stopped under the streetlamp that won’t share its light for some hours yet. 

Ran smirks, he lets out a short laugh and tears his eyes off you, looking at Kakucho. “You think I can’t pull her off?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The verdict sounds like a challenge. Ran snorts and takes a step in your direction, partially confident, partially pondering if he really can’t make you like him. The thought is cold, but it changes with a rush of excitement that strikes his body when you raise your head and see him. There’s a huge smile on your face and in your eyes when you notice him and he grins back. 

“Ran!” You call him by his first name before you fly across the street and press your body into his as you hug him, your arms snaking their way across his neck. Plastic bags bump onto his back and thawed drops of water from the coffee cup stain his shirt. But he doesn’t mind it. He feels you smiling into his skin and he doesn’t mind it at all. “You won’t believe me, but I had a feeling I would see you today here.” 

“You probably just wanted to see me that much.” He replies in his usual lazy manner and he can feel you smiling wider, but then you pull away from his arms and glare at him acting bothered by his bold words. 

[He knows you enough to say you aren’t.]

“You so wish I was.” Your words are true and he almost admits it - maybe he does it with his eyes gleaming so intensely as he loses himself in your presence, but neither of you notices it, only Kakucho who stands to his left - yet you interrupt him. “What are you doing here?” 

It’s a sudden violent jerk that Kakucho makes that peel your attention from Ran to his friend. You gasp and purse your lips, tilting your head as you take him in. Whatever you are thinking about Kakucho is masked by your so out of character sweet smile [Ran tries to remember if you ever been this friendly with him and miserably fails] and a barely there whisper of your full name.

Ran frowns. The joy from seeing you evolves into slight annoyance. It grows even more when Kakucho, being the sweet guy he is, suggests they walk you home. And that’s how Ran finds himself carrying your bags full of fabrics and buttons - you say so yourself when he asks you why they are so damn heavy - to your mother’s home where you live because you claim it’s closer to school this way and not at all because it’s closer to your mom. 

Ran knows first what it’s like to lose parents and all the micro ways to cope with the loss. The colour you bleed is all too familiar to him; to his own. 

The walk to your home is short and soon enough the three of you are standing in front of a nice small two story house. Its grey facade and black roof doesn’t suit you at all. Your house [your mother’s house] is too dull for you, but Ran knows better than to say this outloud. Instead he appreciatively hums as he focuses on some pretty yellow flowers standing in a huge pot next to the entrance. 

“It was really nice to meet you, Kakucho! Never knew Ran has such nice friends.” You say accepting your bags from Ran’s hands. 

“He never mentioned me?” He asks, sounding genuinely offended. “Not even once?” 

The sound of your giggles rises in the air and you shake your head an affirmative ‘no’. “No. He mentioned his little brother a couple of times, though. Actually. I’ve been thinking. Me and my friends are going to “Womb” today to welcome us coming back to Tokyo so if you want to come along, you can. What do you think?” 

It’s Ran who’s been eerily silent all the time that responds. “Yes. Of course. I’ll pick you up.” 

“Great. See you at nine then?” 

“Can’t wait.” 

The words have a slightly ominous feeling to them. Maybe it’s just the tone with which he says them or maybe you both have been struck by the gift of foretelling because when your eyes stay on him a little too longer than usual, there’s no mistake that you know how today will change you both. 

*** 

Inside the bathroom where Ran has been soaking for a good hour the air is heavy. It’s hard to breathe and the voices that slip from the living room to the confinement of white marbled floor and white walls aren’t tangible. Ran catches them again and again and again, but they don’t stay and he finds himself on a rope that leads to the inner world of his very being. Somewhere where he doesn’t want to be. Ever. 

Shadows there are cruel and they bite worse than an angry stray dog. Those gushes never close and Ran knows for a fact that he will have to tend to them till the day he dies. 

“No. Ran never spoke about her.” It’s Rindou’s voice that takes Ran out of the whitish void of nothingness. It’s Rindou’s voice that speaks about you. “Is she pretty?” 

There’s no answer to that from Kakucho. Only laughter from both of them and a whistle from Shion. Ran can only guess what gesture or facial expression his friend made to describe you. 

“Ran type of pretty or my type of pretty?”  

“You think I know what you consider pretty, Madarame? You’ve never even said oh look that girl is pretty. You are always like bet she’d take my dick really well.” 

They laugh again and their laugh is warm and Ran smiles the way he would be as if he was with them now and not inside a bath full of scorching hot water. Yet, he belongs there, with them, and so he allows himself to be a part of conversation about you, about him. 

The outburst of joy follows a content silence which is interrupted by Kakucho's loud sigh. Ran can’t see them, but he can tell that his friend is smiling and he has Rindou’s and Shion’s full attention on him. 

“What is it?” “Nah. You gotta see it for yourself, Rin. I am not going to take the experience away from you.” 

“Honestly? I just hope she is not a stupid bitch.” 

“They all were stupid bitches to you, Rindou.” 

“Were they?” 

“Oh, yeah.” This time it’s Shion. “Even though Yui was pretty much fuckable you still called her a stupid bitch to her face.”

"That's ‘cause she was and Ran never went out with her. They just fucked a couple of times. Anyways, should we…” 

The rest of the conversation gets lost in between splashing water when Ran gets out of the bath. His skin is tingling and red as he wraps his body in the soft towel [Rindou likes prickly ones more]. He wipes the misted mirror with the back of his hand and when he finally sees himself in the reflection he can’t help but wonder from where in his cursed body this sweet tug comes from when he hears his friends talking about you.

And because he has no answer he at least can hope that his younger brother won’t consider you a stupid bitch. It seems really important to him in the box that is the white room. 

*** 

The grey house doesn’t make any impression on Rindou. He can’t understand if you are rich or poor or what your status is or anything related to your character because the house is dull. It’s ordinary and Rindou thinks that even he with his minimalistic approach to life and fashion got to hate it too. 

Maybe, though, he is salty that his older brother urged him away from the front seat of his car the moment the freshly changed tires of Ran’s Honda stopped in front of your house. 

His eyes stop out of the huge pot with flowers - he can’t tell the colour of them though, his poor eyesight being an obstacle - and then drift to the enormously large window where he can spot your dark silhouette. You probably are putting your shoes on. 

Rindou couldn’t care less about you. That though doesn’t stand for his brother. He loves Ran more than he loves anything and when he stares at his brother stealing quick glances at the house he swears he can see through the walls and see you just as well as Ran does. His heart [it’s Ran’s] beats faster and faster and long fingers grip the steering wheel too painfully. Anticipation, excitement, eagerness. 

Rindou feels it all through Ran. He feels what Ran feels for you. 

So when you slide into the passenger seat in your really well put too stylish outfit Rindou is overwhelmed by the moon waves of calmness that strike through his body [Ran’s]. He is burnt when you touch Ran’s arm and side hug him. To Rindou you are like a blazing sun, but for now he feels you through Ran and the intensity of it all swallows him whole. He is barely here. 

Until you turn your face to him and say. “You must be Rindou. You look so different from Ran, but you are the same.” 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done to you if you mistook my little brother for Shion.” Ran laughs a pretty earnest laugh and a huge smile blossoms on your face as you turn to him not waiting for Rindou’s answer. “It’s Shion Madarame, by the way. My friend.” 

“Nice to meet you, Madarame.” You speak as you lazily stretch your hands before yourself. You are wearing opera gloves.  “Nice to meet you too, Rindou.” 

The first name basis specifically for him doesn’t go unnoticed, but Rindou doesn’t say anything. He is perplexed by you and what you are. 

He might not know you at all yet. You might be nothing to him and that dull grey house is so distasteful he swears he doesn’t want to see it ever again. Yet he likes you already. Through Ran he does. And that’s why when your eyes meet his in the rearview mirror and you smile at him he smiles right back at you. 

*** 

“Womb” is the farthest thing from some classy nightclubs in Roppongi that Ran and Rindou like very much.

It’s too spacious, too grand and too flashy. It’s pretentious. And as well as Rindou hates this obnoxious trait in people he hates it with the same passion in the inanimate objects. The whole club and people in it irritates him to the point where it’s borderline rude angriness. Kakucho is the first one to notice it and he - a gentle soul - in an attempt to soothe Rindou throws his arm around his shoulders. Rindou appreciates the gesture, but it doesn’t dissolve an annoying feeling. 

He, for whatever reason it may be, wishes Ran would notice his changed demeanour, but right now it’s too much to ask. Ran is focused on you. Rindou sees the way his brother’s head slightly leans to yours as he attentively listens to whatever it is you are saying to him. You hold Ran by his elbow leading him to wherever your friends are. Shion follows close behind, but he doesn’t participate in the conversation and Rindou understands too well why. 

His chest hurts. 

But he is curious and an unknown eagerness comforts him. 

Every single one of your friends is stylish. Too stylish. Pretentiously stylish. Rindou assumes they also are quite rich or either they have connections. Tons of alcohol and a spacious private booth overlooking the dance floor is what makes him think so. If he was Ran he would also notice designer clothes and bags, but he doesn’t. You introduce them to your friends and one of the girls eyes Ran a bit too much. Too suspicious. But then she relaxes and her eyes go wide in recognition. She exclaims, now I understand why the yukata she makes is so pretty, and instead of looking at Ran who with a half-smile looks at you, you look at the floor. 

When the clock strikes just one after midnight Rindou is more than curious and a tiny bit tipsy. He now knows every single one of your friends - and you - by name. He knows that one of your best friends is in Geidai studying architecture, and the other one studies design in the same school as you. He also understands that one of the boys - your classmate - likes you very much and it’s so painfully obvious, Rindou cringes every single moment he approaches you in his lame attempts to flirt. [Not that Rindou is better at flirting, he just doesn’t hit off with this particular guy or rather it’s the guy who doesn’t like either Rindou, nor Ran or Kakucho or Shion]. And as expected one of the girls sneaks glances at Ran a bit too much and as expected Ran notices it and as expected he doesn’t pay any attention to her at all. 

But both of you don't speak much either and that’s where Rindou’s curiosity lies. 

Just one after midnight you plop on the sofa beside Rindou and set a half-full glass full of gin on the table. You move it away, dragging it across the table, with the back of your left hand. The sound it makes is not pleasant. It sounds tired. 

“So?” You say. 

“So?” He echoes, turning his head to look at you. In the blue disco lights that reflect off your skin you look ethereal.

You whine. Dramatically. And biting a lip you  tilt your head to the side. “I asked first, Ran’s little brother.” 

He gasps then and under the influence of alcohol your words that weren’t said in intention to be playful seem so funny to him, he laughs. You laugh too. 

“Ran’s little brother? Is this how he calls me behind my back?” He asks you, a beautiful teasing smile on his lips. “Have he told you a lot about me?”

You squint your eyes at him and scoot closer, the leather under you squeaking. “Not really.” You move even closer and then you lay your hand on his arm squeezing it. “He said you love music, want to own a club one day, hate McDonalds and that your favourite colour is white.” 

“That’s all he said?” 

“No. Not really. He mentioned that you like DJing. Have a whole setup at home and he hates it when you use it, because it’s too loud, but he lets you do your thing anyway. Oh. And your obsession with the gym.” 

There’s a loud noise coming from the dance floor. It’s a woman screaming. She sounds happy. Music doesn’t stop and she screams some more. No one pays her attention besides you. You turn around and a small smile tugs at your lips. When you shift back you lay your head on Rindou’s shoulder. He doesn’t mind it. 

He doesn’t mind you at all anymore. 

*** 

The night passes quickly as all good pleasant things do.

But as usual there’s a moment of worry. A moment of uncertainty. A threshold to where all the things go wrong. It finds you after four in the morning. 

The music is slowing down and people that have remained are barely a crowd. The club is going to close in an hour or so. The lights are fully on and Rindou is discussing with Kakucho how everyone will get home. Despite you and Ran barely interacting throughout the whole night both boys are sure he would want to take you home. But for now he is still sitting at the table chatting up a cute girl. A friend of yours from the oil painting department of Geidai. The nature of your relationship with Ran is more abstract than ever. Rindou can’t crack it up. 

“Here you are.” The voice is loud so everyone stops talking and turns their attention toward a young obviously very drunk man stepping through the door. “And here I was thinking what club you were whoring yourself out today. With whom are you sleeping these days?! Is it this one? Or this one? Or maybe it’s this one?” 

The man is tall and he is very beautiful and that makes the situation even sadder than it already is. When beautiful things are stained, unfairly so, they become cruel. The ugliness seeping through the holes. 

“Orochi.” It’s you who speak and so it’s you to whom the words were addressed to. “Go away. You are drunk.” 

“Will you come with me?” He asks, extending his hand. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “No. I won’t.” 

"Is it because I am drunk or is it because you have someone else?”

Your best friend snorts. “You say it as if you were ever together. Come on, man. Get the fuck out of here. None of us wants you here. Especially her.”  

His head falls to his chest and he lets out a miserable laugh that reminds Rindou more of a bark. “This is how it is?”

The knife appears from his pocket too quickly, too sudden no one reacts in time. But this Orochi guy is intoxicated a bit too much and so when he flashes it aiming to drag it across your face, it doesn’t even touch you. He tries a second time, cursing at you. Stupid ugly bitch, he spits, the knife slicing the air again. Such a whore. Dumb fucking slut.

“Easy here. Watch how you speak to my girl. One more word and you are not going to end up simply beaten.” Ran voice is steady. It’s venomous. And what everyone perceives as a promise for Rindou is a certain fact. 

“Who the fuck are you?” “I am Ran Haitani and right now we are going to leave, but I will find you a day after tomorrow and you are going to regret every single word you said.” Ran crosses the booth stepping in between you two. His back to the guy. It’s disrespectful. It’s humiliating. It’s very Ran of him. Rindou can’t see from where he stands besides the door, but by the way Ran’s hands rise up, he can assume he is holding your face in his palms. He whispers to you. “You okay? Let’s get you home.” It’s stupid and naive, but it’s expected for Orochi to be hurt and another attempt to poke - this time Ran - with his knife is stopped by Shion who is the closest to where you stand. He hits him in his jaw and the booth suddenly turns red. There’s a tooth laying under the sofa now. 

When Ran turns around. His face is calm. He holds your hand and even with his bad eyesight Rindou catches the tenderness with which he caresses your skin with his thumb. “Don’t overdo it, Shion. I want him to at least show me some resistance when I see him next time.” “Aye, captain. As you wish. Go get your girl home. Me and Kakucho will take care of the rest. Right, Kaku?” 

Kakucho shrugs. There’s nothing really left to say or to take care of. The world is suddenly gloomy and cold. 

*** 

Rindou doesn’t really understand how, but he ends up in your house with a bowl of instant noodles and leftover chicken. 

You and Ran sit opposite him on the couch. Your knees are touching. You speak of cherries. Rindou has no idea what is so amusing about these specific fruits, but he listens anyway. The TV is off and your conversation the only entertainment available. 

“I am actually really sorry you had to witness that.” You sigh, head low. You aimlessly poke your noodles with chopsticks as you speak. “I’ve never had anything with Orochi. He was just a friend of mine and he said I led him on, but I don’t think I’ve ever done something for him to believe I like him or you know…  He just made a move one day and I said no. And that was it. Mizu says he is obsessed.”

“That he is for sure.” Ran takes the bowl away from you. “Good thing he won’t be anymore.” 

“Ran… I don’t want you to… It’s not necessary. It’s too much.” The tone is almost pleading and Rindou knows his brother a bit too much, feels him a little too well to know two things. The first one is that he hates it when people he cares about decline his help. The second one is that he terribly achingly wants to kiss you and it only intensifies when you continue speaking. “It’s not that I am afraid for Orochi, but I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. It’s like a betrayal and I don’t want to betray you ever.” 

“Hey. Can I use your bathroom for ten minutes?” Both you and Ran snap your attention to Rindou who stands up from the armchair. You furrow. “It’s upstairs. Second room to the left. And you can use it for however long you want. Do you actually both want to stay over tonight? You are probably too tired to drive anyway.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Good. I’ll be back in ten minutes exactly.” 

When Rindou disappears in the blue haze of dawn that slips through the windows of the second floor he hears Ran’s soft laugh and your whispering. It’s probably about him, but then again, he doesn’t mind it.

He doesn’t mind sitting on the closed lid of the toilet in your house for fifteen minutes - just for a good measure - so as to give his brother a chance to slowly kiss your bad night and worries away. To pull the thread of sadness that has been knitted through your face since the episode in the club and all the way till now away. He doesn’t mind it either when he goes back, fake yawning, and sees his brother laying on you, his face in your neck as he draws comfort from your warmth. He fetches you a pillow and a blanket and takes you to your bedroom, leaving you two alone. Ran might pretend he is sleeping, but Rindou knows better. He doesn’t mind this innocent lie. 

He doesn’t mind you and as he lays in your bed he thinks that there was never a single time today where he wanted to call you a stupid bitch just like all girls Ran has been with before. But then was Ran ever with someone before? 

Rindou says no. He says it’s loud and then he remembers how Ran called you his girl. Rindou thinks it suits you a bit too much. Being Ran’s girl and all that it includes. 

He doesn’t know you well and there’s still a long road before he does, but he trusts you and he likes you and before he falls asleep he hears a sweet sound of glass chime. The aroma of orchids fills the house. 

[chemicallady]

I LOVE YOU TO DEATH BUT I'M DROWING

Part 1

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem Reader

Content Warning: talking about sex; bondage, possible heartbreak.

Summary:  getting closer to Noah is like trying to give a quick look into an abyss; it's impossible not to fall down with all your certains.

And in the end, a firm decision must be make.

Taglist: @lilhobgobbler ; @aprosiacperson

A/N: no smut in this one, sorry for that but this is the last introduction chapter, I promise. I need to do more research on /the topic/ you will find out reading but I promise you this is the last slow chapter. From next one on, we all will be on fire 🔥

Thanks to all the kind souls who are reading my story. As usual, I don't know Noah, this is fictional and I respectfully don't want to offende anyone.

Maybe for someone, reader and noah could look a bit weird in comparison with many other ff; I love realism so those dialogues sounds 'possibile' in my head. As long as the situations.

Enjoy!

《 I was fantasising on binding you.》

Day off are so weird, sometimes. Becca and Mandy, the other two merch girls, bonded pretty quick and you feel a bit left behind when you woke up in the room you share with them and they weren't anywhere to be found. You can understand why they decided to spend their day off without you, to be honest. You all are I'm New York and due to the Blue Ridge Festival being last minute canceled, the entire crew gained two days off in the Big Apple. You're relieved from some aspects because that festival is HUGE and you don't like the idea of so many fans asking for t-shirt and ski mask for hours and hours under the sun. At the same time, you regret a little how you declined Steve invitation to organise a cozy dinner in his room with him, Mandy, Becca and Chris.

The reason of this decline is all Noah's fault.

Entirely.

《 Why are you looking at me like that?》

《 I was just thinking...》

《 C'mon. Spill the tea. I believe we have enough intimacy at this rate》.

Some kind of weird silence filled the elevator making the air heavy. Good job, y/n. You were able to create even more tensions between the two of you. More than then, this sarcasm is not helping. There is not such a thing as intimacy between the two of you.

Being fucked due to an excess of stamina before a gig is not like having a long walk in the nature, hands in hands.

It's rough and primal. Exciting but somehow dry. Emotionally dry, of course, because you feel nothing but wetness rethinking about all your encounters.

Noah is not answering and neither looking at you, and you have almost reached his floor. You take a long breath before speaking again. 《 I know I'm crossing some boundaries, but it's weird. We had some best buddies moments and them because I kissed you once, you stop talking to me and started to act pretty directly. 》

It's so frustrating being an extrovert who is trying to explain is feelings to an introvert who is actually not replying at all.

《 I mean, I really enjoy the fun time you give me, but it's not like I've pictured us.》

Oh that was too much. Why did you say that???

《 and I didn't actually pictured us. It was more like a chill situationship in my head because you gave me some vibes but-》

《 God dammit I was just fantasizing on binding you. That's it, y/n.》

The elevators doors open but you prevented him to escape the situation. 《 alright this is even weirder》, is you reply while you push the bottom to close the door again. And then the one to go back to the main hall. Your are not a shy person, at least not now. Not with the guy who apparently loves to fuck the shit out of you in front of a mirror. He blushes, try to say something else but you are too confuse to let him explain 《binding me to what?》

The doors opens again in front of Matt. He looks at you surprised but before even say a word, Noah pushes the bottom to close the door. Like you have just done. And again to floor nine. 《 to nothing》 his is answer. He is in distress, like is really hard for him to provide you a decent explanation. 《 just... tide you up. Your body is so beautiful and I'd love to .... tide you up. But you are right, it's weird.》

You can feel a certain amount of disappointment in his voice and even if you don't really trust him that much or know him enough to get the exact meaning of this, you can't help yourself but touching his arm in reinsurance. His eyes meet yours and you just get a bit closer.

You're not an idiot, this guy is buff and could easily tak advantage on you, but you have seen something trustworth in him; he has such a gentle soul hidden behind an armor used to denied his very own feelings. Even if he is avoiding you, he is still gentle when you two meet around. Maybe, you overthinked for days, he is just as uncomfortable as you are with your rendezvous with zero talking in between.

《 I don't understand what you mean, that's why it's weird》 , you tell him. 《 I don't think you are weird. Well, maybe a bit, but mostly I think you're hot》 , you continue making him blush again. Noah chuckles a little laught while the elevation door get open for the second time on his floor. 《 Its a weird catch up phrase, Noah-idiot. Asking a girl to be tied up.》

《 You are not wrong》 he replies, amused by the way you're making him confortable with jokes, before putting an hand to stop the doors from closing again. 《 But... I can show you what I mean, if you want.》

《 Now?》

《 if you don't have any plans for dinner...》

《... Show me the way, tho 》.

You know that Steve and Chris really didn't care that you decided to not show up for dinner, but the girls are pissed. Anyway no one bought the excuse that you felt suddenly so tired to attend the gathering. That's why you woke up alone in the room. Looking back at your night conversation, you can't really feel sorry for missing it. But it also has a bitter taste from some point of views. You hate to be the one who has to take decisions.

But Noah is turning your world upside down.

You've never felt that way.

He makes you feel like someone else is wearing your skin. His eyes are trustful and when he feels enough secure of himself - weird how someone that pretty can he shy and with a low selfsteem- he turns into this primal, feral seducer. You can't get enough of him. His mouth on your body, the grip of his hands, firm but somehow armonic.

It looks like he have studied how to be a beast in bed. And after yesterday, you only got solid evidence of this suspicious.

You have never heard about Shibari before. Your have always pictured bondage as a strainge kink, connected with pain and humiliation and you're not the kind of person who likes to be humiliated at all. But Noah is pretty clear about what he actually wants.

《 Shibari is a matter of aesthetics》, he tells you why showing pictures of naked women tied up with beautiful knots and intricate ropes combinations. 《 Its not even connected directly with sex. The schemes of the ropes are related with specific body points; every knots has a deep simbolic meaning. My intention is not to control you or humiliate you, but just having some visual pleasure of your pretty body.》

You rise your eyes, trying to meeting his, but he looks a but insecure. Like is costing so much to him to expose himself. 《 If its not sex, what I get in return?》. You decide to ask first, trying to not sound greedy. On the contrary. It's quite interesting.

《 pleasure. I'll take care of you. My intentions are aesthetical but I'm still a guy.》 It's sounds so wrong seeing such a shy guy talking about this stuff and them imagining him doing such intricate knot on your body. You can't help but feel you're getting wet already and that a shame. Every inch of feminish is taken away from you in the moment you can spend some time with Noah.

《 This have something to do with the fact that you don't want to kiss me anymore?》

Another important question and Noah can't avoid but oblige you an answer. 《 No》

The dryness in this simple one word make you sigh in frustration. You look at one last photo before handing his phone back again to the boy seated next to you.《 Did you take all of this pictures?》

《 Yes.》

《Have you made sex with all these girls》

《 I usually don't make sex with a girl who likes this kind of things. I can go to a dive bar and meet someone for that. To me, this is work of art. It's helping me through a lot of stress the tour is giving me. You are an exception because you kissed me and I lost my balance.... but I believe I need to get it back》

The oddly sound of a silent hotel room followed his last sentence. 《... if I agree with all of this, with the ropes and knots, we stop to have fun before the concerts?》

Noah let himself fall on the mattres, lost in his thoughts. You can tell he doesn't no for sure. 《 Maybe. I can't tell you for sure. But the choice is up on you; I want force you anyway. 》

Since the moment you have left his room, you can't stop thinking about him. About how intrigued you feel in letting him doing whatsoever he wants with your body. More than that, everything you have will be just a dream in the moment the tour will be over.

You have in front of you one last month with Noah and the chance to experiment something new.

But do you really want to be part of his photo collection and be remembered just as another chick he tied up?

It's not so easy to pick up a decision.

Especially because you like him, a lot. And losing him will be painful anyway.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Piggybacking off the last ask about Simon and Sarah from your Love Conquers War series, I have some questions.

FYI: The first one is a little silly/cute, the second is a bit more serious and deals with miscarriage and infertility, so feel free to ignore/not answer this if it’s uncomfortable or triggering for you, IRL.

First, you mentioned that Simon was cool with one kid, for now. I had an evil little thought of “wouldn’t it be hilarious if the universe conspires/planets align and they get pregnant with twins on the first the first try?” I think poor Simon would have a panic attack at first, but then get super excited and proud in that masculine way (if you know you know 😉)

On to my second question: once Simon and Sarah decide they’re ready for kids, what if things don’t go how they’d imagined it going?

how would each of them react to a miscarriage or potentially struggling to conceive?

There’s so much secrecy and stigma surrounding miscarriages (they happen way more than one might initially expect) and there’s so many misconceptions about how late in life one is able to get pregnant, the fact that doctors refer to mothers who get pregnant after age 35 (even though that age is based on centuries old data from French peasants 🙃) it’s not something I see many fics (I can literally count on one hand the number I’ve read, and it’s under 5) tackle or talk about.

Heyy! 🩷 Answer to this adorable (also a bit angsty) ask is below the cut:

I had an evil little thought of “wouldn’t it be hilarious if the universe conspires/planets align and they get pregnant with twins on the first the first try?” I think poor Simon would have a panic attack at first, but then get super excited and proud in that masculine way (if you know you know 😉)

Aaaaaah! That's such a cute evil little thought!! I'm telling you my cheeks hurt from smiling when I read this, you're a genius 💕

Simon would have a minor panic attack for sure. He would also try to hide just how much he's freaking out. He would grow pale at their first ultrasound and mutter to himself "How's this even possible…" And Sarah only looks at him with a huge, smug smile on her face. Like she would be the happiest! And also think to herself "serves the man right for stalling things so long". The nurse would congratulate them and Simon would grow paler still.

He would be silent during the trip home, and Sarah knows that Simon is actually scared of happiness, not responsibility. She would tease him about it, joke around a bit, then try to calm him... The conversation would go something like this:

Sa: "Isn't it nice to know you're fertile...?"

Si: "I'm fertile? You're the one who's fertile."

Sa: "Well, we're fertile. Isn't that nice?"

Si: "Yeah. Sure. We need a bigger apartment."

I think Simon would guide his frustrations and fears to material things. He would make sure everything is ready and set for the baby(/babies? hah). And then the realization sinks in and YES he would be so proud and hyped. He would also be nodding to himself, deeming it's quite practical that they have two babies at the same time. Pure soldier's realism!

On to my second question: once Simon and Sarah decide they’re ready for kids, what if things don’t go how they’d imagined it going? How would each of them react to a miscarriage or potentially struggling to conceive?

I think Sarah would read and study everything there is to know about… everything! From how to increase chances of getting pregnant to having a healthy pregnancy to good parenting. They would both be aware of the fact that trying to conceive in their thirties is not a walk in the park, and would mentally brace themselves for setbacks. Still, if such setbacks hit, I think Sarah would suffer the most. She's a bit of an overthinker and has a tendency to go down in the dumps.

And Simon would suffer when he sees Sarah is suffering. Of course he would mourn the unborn child too, especially if the miscarriage(s) were to happen after the first trimester. But Simon, I think, has more buffer to things going to shit, so he would simply be there for Sarah and help her get out of the slump. Simon would be the one who sparks the hope for trying again. And again. And again. Until they succeed. He would never give up once the decision to have a child is made. ️Fertility treatments and other methods of assisting pregnancy aren't off the table either. I don't think they would go as far as adopting, though. They want to have little Simons & Sarahs 🙄🩷

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb:

“A lyrical, melancholy, and deeply moving story about the people we love and the places we long for. Aching and poignant.” —Ava Reid, #1 New York Times bestselling author of A Study in Drowning

On Stenland, there comes a time known as skeld season: one day, any woman on the island can wake with three black lines on her forehead, the mark of a skeld. Skeld season comes around without warning, and while each window of time lasts only three months, anyone a skeld turns to stone is very much dead.

That's how Tess’s mother killed Soren’s parents. Maybe for this reason alone, Tess and Soren should not have fallen in love. Since the time her mother was a skeld, Tess has wanted to leave Stenland, to run from the windswept island, from her family and friends. She is unwilling to bear the responsibility of one day killing anyone, let alone someone she loves. Soren has been determined to stay, to live out his life in the place he knows as home, even if that life could be cut short during the latest skeld season. They cannot see eye to eye—and yet they cannot stay apart. She tries to come back for him. He tries to leave for her. But can your love for one person outweigh everything else combined? And how do you decide how much you’re willing to risk, if it might mean destroying someone else in the process?

Laura Robson has crafted a fascinating story about the choices we make, the responsibilities we carry, and the ambiguities of regret.

Review:

A sad melancholic maglical realism story that features a story about an island where women can turn men into stone...and one woman spends her life trying to keep herself apart and holding her heart out in hopes of outrunning the curse but finding herself coming back constantly to the island and the the one man who has had her heart all her life. On the island of Stenland there is a season known as ths skeld season: one day, any woman on the island can wake with three black lines on her forehead, the mark of the skeld... and the season comes without warning... and lasts for only 3 months... but the problem is that said skeld can turn anyone into stone.. essentially killing then. When Tess's mom awakens as a skeld and kills Soren's parents, they should be a a reason enough for them to never cross paths... yet fate has other plans as they both find themselves orbiting one another all throughout high school and so on as they fall in love. But Tess is haunted by her mother's actions and the fear that she might one day wake up and turn Soren into stone, she is determined to escape the island and be freed.... but Soren is an island boy, he plans on staying there forever.... Tess and Soren love one another but with such different views on their futures they constantly separate and reunite throughout the years of their lives. The story goes back and forth between the present and past, presenting Tess and Soren's relationship and how their lives change over time and how they cannot stay away from one another, no matter the years apart, the new partners... they are constantly drawn back to one another and despite how far Tess goes she is drawn back to the island. The story felt very reminiscent of an Adrienne Young romantic magical realism story but it just kind of felt lacking in the final chapters. I guess I just wanted something more, I wasn't a big fan of the ending and just wanted one more chapter to see how Soren and Tess are together. The story itself was very atmospheric but throughout it you just want to shake them both and get them to properly communicate and just discuss their issues rather than jumping to a conclusion. I would say this is a good book for fans of magical realism stories with romance but it just was a sad tone and i just guess for all the angst I went through in this book I was hoping for a better ending. The writing was interesting and the overall idea is one I can see a lot of people really enjoying.

Release Date: February 18, 2025

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Harlequin Trade Publishing | MIRA for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[billiejean485]

Some of you might remember that back in the day I used to love drawing Chat Noir a lot. However... what happened happened, and I lost all motivation for that. However, it's been coming back to me lately, especially ever since I started focusing on the concept art more. (Nathanaël Bronn is amazing man!)

So... I finally came round to share my artistic endeavor and a try to apply a more realistic style (with obvious fail). However... I know a cake is a cake to the fandom anyway, so here you go:

... One of the oldest attempts. Obvious lack of space between the eyes - something that I generally struggle with when drawing humans.

Then I thought I'd finally go back to drawing poses. Figuring this one out took too much, so I left it there for some other time.

This was the first one whose direction I started to like. So I kept pushing it.

FINALLY a pretty realistic one! But I still need to work out so much.

This one is more cartoony, and I probably pushed the expression too far. But oh well - gotta learn from your mistakes... (I still like how smug he looks though.)

After a longer pause I finally continue.

I think I hit the pose here, but when I started to draw in... I realized how little I know about anatomy. Back to the basics!

I thought: maybe I should try using a screenshot as a reference, and start going towards realism there. This was phase 1. I have yet to continue building upon it.

... Time flies by and I get the urge to just sketch poses again. So I start up an AI prompt generator I made for this purpose and, well... I get one to draw him in this ballet pose. How quaint.

I realize once again that I'm going to have one heck of a time if I start going into detail - and just with his head - so.... I go back to the drawing board.

Little study of his hair.

I still don't get it.

But I decide to wing it anyway and.... here's the result.

That's the last one for now y'all. I hope I'll manage to draw more. Although... figuring out how to draw him realistically is going to take me a heck of a lot of time. And practice. And study. Anatomy AND canon models.

So... wish me luck!

I hope you enjoyed these at least.

[remuswriting]

MASTERLIST

All links will take you to the Tumblr version of the story. Majority of these have been uploaded to AO3 and have been edited.

This is all of my Haikyuu!! works in alphabetical order by character's last name and fic titles.

If you’re unsure of where to start, here’s my portfolio aka a masterlist of my favorites.

Haikyuu!!

Social Media Posts

karasuno tweets (1) (2) (3)

random texts; msby black jackal (1) (2)

random texts; multi (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

random tweets; multi (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Akaashi Keiji

the night sky

love letter | confessions | 288 words

Akaashi writes a love letter he may or may not send one day.

Bokuto Kotaro

deserve

love letter | light angst | 365 words

Bokuto tries to write a love letter.

Hanamaki Takahiro

scary movies (and you)

fluff | getting together | 857 words

Hanamaki and Y/N decorate Y/N's apartment for Halloween.

Hinata Shoyo

halloween decorations

getting together | break-up | angst

Y/N hates fall and Hinata tries to change that.

kisses

established relationship | fluff | 630 words

Sometimes Y/N and Hinata had moments of quiet, where their limbs were tangled together as Hinata’s head rested on the other’s chest. These were moments Y/N cherished.

secret relationship

getting together | fluff | headcanons

Hinata and his boyfriend attempt to keep their relationship a secret.

the sun

magical realism | 590 words

Hinata meets the moon.

Iwaizumi Hajime

day off

established relationship | fluff | 433 words

Y/N loved when his and Hajime’s schedules lined up.

painting pumpkins

university | fluff | Texan! Reader | 1,271 words

Y/N shows Iwaizumi something he does with his family for Halloween.

take your time (i'll be here)

university | fluff | time skip | 1,892 words

It’s dead-week, and Y/N wishes Hajime would change his major.

Kageyama Tobio

resentment

twin au | angst | 7,193 words

Kageyama believes Y/N, his twin brother, is the complete opposite of him, which means they have to hate each other.  The only thing is that Y/N didn’t get the memo.

Kozume Kenma

cut the cameras

poly relationship | getting together | socmed au

It’s Y/N’s final year of university when his advisor nominates him to submit a short film for the Tokyo Film Festival for a final grade. Cue the lights, the cameras, making more friends than he expected to, and having realizations that flip his entire world upside down.

off topic

love letter | confession | 726 words

Kenma confesses with a love letter.

Kuroo Tetsurou

accidental confessions

social media | friends to lovers

Kuroo accidentally confesses when he doesn't check who he's texting.

my heart likes you

social media | childhood friends to lovers

Kuroo is the last to learn he likes his childhood best friend.

i want to promise you eternity

epistolary | friends to lovers | 1,846 words

Kuroo finds a letter you never meant for him to read.

Miya Atsumu

a kiss from the sun

post time skip | making out | 326 words

"Don't be shy. Let me hear you."

birthday post

social media au

what he posts on your birthday

congratulations

angst | getting together | 1,539 words

Atsumu drags Y/N to a party only for Y/N to end up being ditched when a hot guy shows up.

meet me in the pouring rain

friends to lovers | 1,950 words

Y/N decides to walk home, even though it's pouring. Atsumu and his truck save the day.

online friend

pre-relationship | fluff | angst | 2,150 words

Create a Twitter thread about Naruto and volleyball, and Miya Atsumu is now your best friend.

ridiculous

pure angst | 2,344 words

According to Y/N, everything is ridiculous.

to know every side of you

social media | best friend's brother | slow burn

After a failed Tinder hookup, Atsumu learns that Sakusa has a hot older brother who is now completely uninterested in him. However, that doesn’t stop Atsumu from trying to become part of Y/N’s life.

trust

hmc au | first meetings | 1,438 words

Y/N meets a beautiful man on his way to visit his sister.

Miya Osamu

and how the stars shine

camp counselor | fluff | 3,581 words

When Sugawara has to retire from being a camp counselor after getting a teaching position, Y/N meets his new co-counselor Miya Osamu.

depends, who's asking

pre-relationship | meet-cute | 1,002 words

As far as first meetings go, fighting over udon noodles is not one you thought you'd ever have.

Miya Triplet

the narrative

triplet au | angst | character study | wip

Everyone has a different perception of who Miya Y/N is.  Y/N doesn’t know which is the right one.

MSBY Black Jackal

reading thirst tweets

time skip | sexual comments | 2,247 words

Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, and Sakusa are invited to Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets, and they recognize a certain user. (plus the aftermath)

Nishinoya Yuu

typos

established relationship | humor | 246 words

It’s an easy mistake—typing swear instead of sweat. However, they have two different meanings.

is your heart taken

social media | friends to lovers | getting together

Nishinoya wants a s/o but he’s too oblivious to see what's literally in front of him.

Ojiro Aran

a crime called emotion

angst | soulmate au | hanahaki | 1,083 words

Something you learned long ago about soulmates and unrequited love was that they had their punishments.

let me hold you close

fluff | post time skip | 724 words

Aran comes back from his morning run to find you still asleep.

Oikawa Tooru

cut the cameras

poly relationship | getting together | socmed au

It’s Y/N’s final year of university when his advisor nominates him to submit a short film for the Tokyo Film Festival for a final grade. Cue the lights, the cameras, making more friends than he expected to, and having realizations that flip his entire world upside down.

interviews

meet-ugly | getting together | 5,043 words

Oikawa leaves a terrible first impression on Y/N, Seijoh’s newspaper editor, when the volleyball team gets to be featured in the paper.

koi ponds

first meetings | fluff | 1,082 words

Oikawa meets a boy at the koi pond in the park.

more significant than gravity

angst | established relationship | 4,817 words

Thunderstorms used to be your biggest fear. Now it's the feeling you have when someone else wants Tooru.

the warmth of the world

manga spoilers | fluff | 424 words

No longer is Tooru the young boy who destroys himself in order to be perfect, but he still has his relapses. However, you can always bring him back.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

where the wind takes me

platonic | fluff | 1,890 words

Sakusa sees L/N out buying White Day gifts.

Sawamura Daichi

you keep me close

ftm reader | fluff | 1,242 words

The only time Y/N gets during his shift to take off his binder is his lunch. It goes similarly every day when waiting for it to come around.

i dedicate myself to you

organized crime au | pining | 556 words

Daichi has never been a fan of blood. Yet, he'll always clean it up for Y/N.

Sugawara Koushi

hold me tight

male oc | slow burn | angst | wip

Sato Kai is a manager for Karasuno boys’ VBC and no one can get a read on him, even though he can read all of them.

changes

male oc | angst | 6,291 words

Sato was dangerous on the court. Sugawara wished he wasn't.

nsfw alphabet

sexual content | headcanons| 971 words

NSFW Alphabet for Sugawara.

show me

post-time skip | fluff | 351 words

L/N confesses for Sugawara.

Tsukishima Kei

cruel

angst | unrequited love | 423 words

Tsukishima thinks Y/N is cruel. Y/N is unaware.

dinosaur cookie jar

major character death | medical inaccuracies | 397 words

The list of instructions sat on the kitchen counter, next to the dinosaur cookie jar L/N had bought him on their third anniversary.

first words

hanahaki disease | soulmate au | 18,572 words

In a world where the first words your soulmate say to you are on your wrist, Y/N manages to get “hello.”

goodbyes

post time skip | angst | 1,353 words

Tsukishima realizes he never really had Y/N to begin with.

home

manga spoilers | fluff | 1,029 words

Tsukishima loves you, but doesn’t know how to say it.

study partners

university | platonic relationships | 454 words

Tsukishima and L/N study together.

Ukai Keishin

next to you

high school | getting together | 4,571 words

Keishin Ukai wants to play with Y/N L/N no matter how hard he has to work for it.

an ocean away

angst | pining | 7,261 words

Y/N knew he had terrible ideas, but he hoped coming back to Japan after 10 years to see Karasuno at nationals and confess to his high school boyfriend that he’s still in love with him wouldn’t be one of them.

remember that night

outside pov | established relationship | 1,018 words

Ukai isn’t the one behind the counter at the shop and it confuses everyone.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

starter

love letter | angst | 476 words

Yamaguchi writes a love letter he’ll never send.

my heart looks after you

ftm reader | platonic relationships | 791 words

Yamaguchi loans Y/N some clothes.

a sight for sore eyes

angst | miscommunication | 6,093 words

Y/N craves for the normalcy he never actually had. It affects everything he touches.