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frogtanii · 4 years ago

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embarrassed ft. matsukawa issei

wc. 2.7k (???)

warnings. SMUT, not proofread lol, mutual pining (??), friends to lovers (???), cunnilingus lmao, no dom/sub dynamics, well actually dom&sub issei if you squint rlly hard hehe, kinda cute, embarrassed issei <3, also one (1) WAP reference

an. it’s 2:30 am and i have no idea why i wrote this and who for???? i got the idea from a 🦋😳🙈✨ audio and was immediately inspired idk, sorry if it’s bad i lichrally have no idea since i didn’t read it after it was done :p

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

it wasn’t like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed.

he was handsome, intelligent, and funny, not to mention he never left women wanting after a night with him.

issei was the entire package and he knew it.

beyond superficiality though, he was happy with his life. he had a great group of friends, a nice apartment all to himself and a completely normal job.

yes, being a funeral home employee wasn’t the most glamorous career a person could have but he was happy. besides, it never deterred him from getting a warm body to sleep with which was a win in his book.

all in all? his life was great!

so why did he have to go and screw it all up?

issei blames makki and the dumb flyer for the reason his life went to shit. (maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but let him have his oikawa moment.)

he was minding his own business when his best friend (recently turned enemy) burst through his apartment door with a piece of paper in his hand and a fire in his eyes.

“dude, look at this!” issei rolled his eyes, putting down his casket catalogue and turning to meet takahiro’s gaze.

“why hello to you too. remind me why i gave you a key again?”

“because you love me and because i bring shit like this to you. look!” with another long and suspiciously tooru-like sigh, issei took the crumpled paper from makki and immediately stopped in his tracks.

“makki... what the fuck is this?”

written in large pink letters and a flowery, borderline illegible font was the name, coffee and cunnilingus. upon further inspection and careful reading, it revealed itself to be a little cafe opening up about 10 minutes from issei’s apartment complex who were looking to hire “young, attractive men who are proficient at eating pussy.”

issei could feel his eyes narrow and his mouth drop open in shock as he repeated his question. “the fuck is this?”

makki shook his head excitedly, tapping to another portion of the flyer that matsukawa had not yet read. “no, no dude, just look at how much they’re paying per hour.” issei begrudgingly obliged but the minute his eyes touched the (Massive™) number, he felt a little faint.

it was a lot of money. more than the funeral home was paying, that’s for sure. with that kind of money he could move out of this suddenly dingy seeming apartment and into a nice flat in the city were he’d always wanted to live. maybe he could buy himself a nice watch or even a high-end suit to replace the one from his highschool graduation (aka the only suit he owns). with that kind of money, he could erase his student debt 3 years ahead of schedule and get his mom into a nicer place.

it was these thoughts that clouded issei’s head as he found himself standing in front of a cute looking building, matching the address on the flyer. i’ll only be working part time, he thought as he pushed the door open to reveal an equally impressing interior with curtained booths and a wide variety of coffee on the menu. i’m only doing it for extra money, he thought as he shook the owner’s hand after he finished his successful interview. no one can ever know, he thought as he dressed himself in the uniform on his first day.

thus began issei’s super secret side hustle where he ate women out for cash.

sounds worse when you say it outright but it was just working. he was good at it, the women liked him, and he was making BANK. still, there were challenges. some women refused to bathe before coming and he would have to send them to the restroom to freshen up which absolutely ruined his chances for a good tip. some women would become heavily infatuated with him, believing that they were in some sort of forbidden romance. he learned to turn them down quick and easy to avoid conflict in the workplace which furthered his space as a boss favorite. but his hardest challenge by far was meeting you.

you were one of hanamaki’s friends, having met him at one of his brief stints in retail on his search for a job. he had gotten fired but you both stayed in touch after he left, becoming really close, really fast.

issei had met you first when takahiro had invited you to the biweekly seijoh third-years movie night. at first, he had been pissed as an “outsider” had never been invited before and he was worried you’d ruin the vibe, especially since it was the first time in months that oikawa would be able to join them. makki vouched for you through and through and the other boys were okay with it so you were in. the second he met you, all his fears of awkwardness and discomfort faded away.

you were great.

you were hilarious, pretty, and could keep up with makki’s harsh jokes, tooru’s diva attitude, iwa’s tendency to hit (hard), and issei’s original disdain. by the end of the night, he had completely forgotten why he didn’t want you there in the first place.

from then on, you were a staple in their little friend group. you were added to the groupchat where you balanced memes with spouts of deep wisdom and you were ever so reliable, always there if any of them needed it.

yeah, you were great. that’s where the problems started.

issei’s feelings for you quickly went from platonic to romantic, faster than you can say godzilla. he hadn’t even recognized that he was falling for you until it was way too late. normally, he wouldn’t have a problem confessing to you but because of his newly found ...occupation, he was too nervous. how would you take it that he was basically a glorified prostitute? ok, that wasn’t exactly what he did but still! you’d probably find him disgusting and horrible and leave the friend group forever. then he’d have to deal with oikawa’s senseless whining and makki’s subtle digs, blaming him for your departure. yeah, he wasn’t going to put himself through that so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

too bad he didn’t have any control over makki’s.

you and takahiro had been on a little friend-date at mcdonald’s after you’d had a long and frustrating shift. you just wanted to vent, expressing your general hate for your job and desperate need for stress relief.

that’s when makki opened his (big, stupid) mouth and suggested that you visit a little place called coffee and cunnilingus. you nearly choked on your fries at the title before quickly pressing him for details. thankfully, he had the decency not to expose that issei worked there but he had not done a good enough job convincing you not to go there. not that it would’ve mattered. your curiosity was peaked and your libido was high so why not try out the weird cafe where you let a complete stranger stick his tongue inside you?

it was settled. you were going to go and you were going to get eaten out and you were going to like it!

or at least that is what you repeated in your head as you walked to the address on your phone before taking a deep breath and walking inside.

“hello, welcome to coffee and cunnilingus, how might i pleasure you this afterno— yn?” issei’s eyes widened as they met your equally bewildered ones, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

“matsukawa-san, is everything alright?” a large hand rested on issei’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to break (horrified) eye contact with you and move it onto his boss who was now looking down on him menacingly.

“y-yes sir, everything is fine!” he squeaked out, hating the way his voice cracked on his first syllable. his boss looked at him suspiciously but thankfully didn’t press.

“well, since nothing is wrong, take this beautiful young woman to a booth where you will assist her!” the hand resting on issei’s shoulder slowly squeezed, making him wince in pain. the pain was only an afterthought though to the larger implication of his boss’ words. he’s going to assist you. assist as in pleasure. pleasure as in eat you out.

holy shit, you were going to pass out.

apparently, issei had the same thought process as you, his face whitening like a sheet. “m-me? but sir i-“

“do your job matsukawa-san!” his boss cut him off with a forced smile. all issei could do was nod and silently lead you off to a closed booth near the back or lose his job. you stayed close behind him but remained quiet, absolutely terrified of breaking the silence and ruining the bubble you had created.

you finally reached the booth in question. issei gently opened the curtain and motioned for you to get it, to which you obliged and he followed just behind.

the moment the curtain closed, you were enveloped in an awkward silence and tense atmosphere, neither of you speaking or looking at one another for fear of one of you running out. after what felt like hours, you opened your mouth to speak, not realizing issei had thought the same thing.

“so-“

“i-“

you finally made eye contact with him and burst into the laughter, the tension quickly broken. it took a full minute or two for the both of you to calm down, the absurdity of the entire situation finally catching up with you.

“you first,” issei said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while fixing you with an intense gaze swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but it made butterflies bubble up in your stomach. you quickly turned your gaze to the comfortable seat beneath you, your fingers playing with the red stitching while you thought of what you had wanted to say.

“are you any good?” your hand flew up to cover your mouth as your cheeks filled with heat, the embarrassment of your words catching up to you. you hadn’t meant to say that but when you opened your mouth to apologize, you were stopped in your tracks by the lovely sound of issei’s full-bodied laughter filling the tiny booth.

you had heard it just moments earlier but without the sound of your own giggles drowning it out, you couldn’t help but think that he sounded beautiful. you basked in the sound as it slowly trailed off back into silence. now it was you doing the staring making issei look off with a red face and a heart threatening to pound out of his chest.

“y-yeah i’m pretty good. you want to try? me, i mean?” his words nearly leave you gasping, your brain working overtime to try and comprehend what he was saying to you.

“only if y-you want to? what do you want issei?” you whispered, suddenly unable to find your voice. you wanted this to be okay for him too; you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable even though you wanted him more than you could verbally express. despite the embarrassment and fear of rejection lingering under your skin, you stared at him, awaiting his answer. a tiny minuscule nod came from him and you internally shook your head. you needed to hear him.

“i need you to say it, issei.” your words, while quiet, were firm and issei felt himself hardening in his uniform slacks. he swallowed in his increasingly drying mouth before opening his mouth to respond.

“i want to eat your pussy. can i?”

shit.

your own voice was stolen by his words and all you could give him was a nod before he was on you.

issei didn’t waste any time falling to his knees, pulling your panties down, and hiking your skirt up to your stomach, revealing your glistening folds to his hungering eyes.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” is all the warning you get before he’s licking a long stripe up you from entrance to clit before he’s sucking the hard, sensitive nub into his mouth. your eyes immediately rolled back into your head, your hips instinctively bucking up into his mouth while a gasped moan of issei left your lips.

if he could bottle your moans and use them whenever he pleased, he would, the sound sending another pulse of arousal to his already hard cock. he was tempted to reach down and pull himself out of his trousers but he denied himself. this was about you; you and your wet ass pussy.

issei continued his ministrations on your clit, circling it with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth while his hand was ready to get busy. it crept up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine until it reached your sopping entrance, two of his fingers teasing the slit before delving in to the third knuckle.

the moan you let out is borderline animalistic as your body sends another wave of slick pulsing out over his hand. he groaned into your cunt at your tightness, his mind only imagining him deep within you while you squeeze him for all he’s got.

the amount of slick you produced made it easy for him to add a third finger, thrusting them in and out while also crooking them upwards in search for your special spot that would have you seeing stars. it took him a little prodding but he knew he found it when your back arched, your hand came down into his hair, and you whimpered out a string of curses.

“that’s it baby, cmon, you’re doing so well, wanna see you come apart for me,” he all but growled against your clit before delving back in with a higher intensity, his desperation for you to come winning out his desire to tease you and drag this out as long as possible.

with his incessant pressure on your g-spot and his lips suctioned around your clit, it wasn’t long before he got what he wanted.

“isseiisseiisseiissei, i’m coming, i’m coming-oh fuck!” you screamed as you clenched and gushed all over his fingers, your entire body caving in with the intensity of your orgasm. his fingers were practically forced from your spasming cunt but they quickly found a place rubbing your nub side to side as fast as possible. the overwhelming urge to pee came over you and you shook your head, trying to push his hand away.

“no, no, give it to me, i know you can,” issei groaned, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. the pleasure he was giving came to a head at his words and you felt a clear liquid escape from your tired, overstimulated cunt, your mouth opening in a silent moan before collapsing back on the seat.

the sight proved to be too much for issei as he felt his body tense, his own orgasm washing over him as he emptied himself into his boxers. he fell back onto the ground, in shock of himself coming entirely untouched. he’d never done it before but of course it was you that would bring it out of him. a smile spread across his face at the thought, his head tilting back as he laughed, catching the attention of your worn body.

“what’re y’laughing at?” you slurred, cringing a little at how fucked out you sounded but issei didn’t seem to mind, his face glowing while covered in your slick and cum.

“nothing, nothing, but uh, i have a question.” you felt your heart leap to your chest, your mind already racing with the possibilities. he’s going to say this was a mistake, that we’re just better off as friends. oh god, what if he says i stunk? or the worst pussy he’s ever had? or what if—

“want to go and get a coffee?” he asked, the smile still plastered on his face but with an uncharacteristic hint of shyness. the butterflies were back in your stomach as you shyly nodded before allowing him to help clean you up and standing, not missing how he slipped your lacy underwear deep into one of his pockets.

issei’s hand found its way into yours as he said goodbye to his coworkers and boss before leading you out of the cafe, watching you tell an animated retelling of the bullshit that occurred at your job with a warm grin on his face and pink cheeks.

it might not be like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed but if it resulted in getting you by his side? he would do it again and again.

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years ago

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Power recognizes power

A little power training gwynriel fic that came from me writing “if you find me at the edge, we’ll jump together.” and I was like this sentence deserves to be the title of something. plus throw everything (and by everything I mean that one sentence in the book) that you know about lightsingers away I’m just using the cute name. and yk there may or may not be some smut at the end.

She was glowing.

She was glowing and Azriel did not mean she looked radiant or that she was overcome with joy, although she did and she was. Gwyneth Berdara was a living, breathing star. As if the spring equinox had come early this year.

Her skin lit up against the blackness of the sky and her hair burned bright with the ferocity of the hearth.

Gwyneth Berdara had stopped singing, the crowd was silent. All eyes were on her but she was looking at him, her light, a beacon to his darkness.

His shadows yearned to go to her, he yearned to go to her. Instead, they both stayed stagnant, watching, waiting.

Azriel was had had enough, he dissolved from view and reappeared on the stage. Startled, Gwyn, took a step back and he stayed right with her, matching her step for step.

He gently tucked a stray piece of lit-up auburn hair behind her here, whispering, “It appears you glow, my love.”

Gwyn, ultimately getting over her initial shock lightly pushed him on the shoulder, “Don’t do that.” She scowled.

Chuckling, he pressed his mouth to hers, in a soft, soothing kiss, forgetful of the audience behind them. As she relaxed beneath his touch, the glow became dimmer and dimmer until it ceased to be. Darkness returned and he stepped back. Gwyn took a breath and stilled. The nervous, passionate energy, that arouse when she sang, calmed for now.

Azriel turned to the crowd, “Due to the events that occurred here tonight, the performance will have to be cut short.” A soft boo drew his attention and immediately he isolated the noise. “Do you want to boo my mate again?” Azriel threatened coolly, his eyes narrowing.

Annoyed, she sighed and spoke to the crowd, “Oh ignore him, I truly am sorry for this interruption but I want to give nothing more than my best and right now I feel as if I can’t do that. the show will be rescheduled sometime next month, letters will be sent out with more information.”

He watched as the stunned and irritated faces slowly began disappearing. Some winnowing away, others taking the slightly more traditional door. Gwyn held her hand out to him. He took it, “So you’re a living lamp?”

“An astute observation.”

“Is there any way I can convince you to rest now and figure this out later?”

She sighed, “It has been an especially long night.”

Azriel stared at her in disbelief, “did you just agree that you should rest?”

“Oh close your mouth, you’ll swallow a fly.” He responded by grinning at her and winnowing them away to their shared home.

Taking off his shirt he yawned not realizing how tired he actually was. It was still strange to him, being able to sleep so freely, without the looming fear of the past and what he couldn’t control. He stopped, realizing Gwyn had not moved from the door.

Gently he asked, “Are you coming?”

She looked at him blankly, lost in thought for a moment before she responded, “Um-yeah-later.” He was unconvinced so she tried again. “I think I’m going to stay out here and make some tea, maybe read a book.”

Azriel gave her a knowing look but did not push, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Az.” He tenderly kissed her cheek and walked to their room, immediately passing out on the bed.

—————————————————–

Azriel awoke at dawn and turned, unsurprisingly, to find the left side of the bed cold and empty. He sighed as he got out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants, mumbling. “Gwyneth berdara, you are going to be the death of me.”

Knowing there was no way she would be in the house but believing he probably should, he checked regardless and when he determined that she was in fact not in the house, he closed his eyes. When he opened them once again he found himself at the house of wind.

He nodded in acknowledgment, “Clotho,”

Shadowsinger. “The one and only.”

Is there something you require? “Just looking for that mate of mine. Any chance she’s here”

You know she is, and you know precisely where to find her. Ask what you truly want to ask. Through gritted teeth, he asked, “How long has she been here?”

Since 11 pm. Exhaling, he muttered, “Why can’t that damn woman ever rest.”

Over excursion out of only stubborn will seems to be a similarity between the two of you. Azriel frowned slightly before smiling pleasantly, “It’s been a pleasure as always, thank you for your help.”

Clotho only nodded and Azriel began the stairs to the 7th floor.

It took a moment for him to find her, the shadowsinger was a trained spy, forced to observe and retain even the smallest of details, yet he couldn’t find a bubbly redhead in a room full of texts and stories.

Ah, no wonder he hadn’t seen her. Gwyn was surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of books. She was drowning in literature, her hair was tied loosely in a braid with quite a few pieces falling out, there were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she was sporting the slightly insane look that came from a lack of sleep.

“Gwyn.” Her head jerked up in surprise to see him.

“Oh Az, Ok Ok, I promise I will go to sleep soon I just need 5 more minutes. I’m so so so close. I think I’m going to skip training today. Ok how about 2 minutes. 10. No that’s more. 10 sets of 1 minute. I just need 10 sets of 1 minute. I’m fine how are you?”

“Gwyn, my love, you’re delirious.”

She brushed him off, “What no I’m fine. I’m fine. Did I already say that? I can’t remember.”

Logic was never the way to deal with her insane stubbornness, so he tried a different approach. He pushed down his worry for her, and curled his mouth into a smirk, “I bet,” She perked up like a dog about to be fed, “that you can’t summarize everything you learned last night into,” he checked the clock. “15 minutes.”

“I could do it in 10.”

“Prove it.”

“And when I win?”

“I leave you to research. But if you can’t you have to go to bed.”

“Time starts now.”

Gwyn took a deep breath and began. “First I looked into where light magic is supposed to originate: the day court. Their magic is described as warm and comforting. Every single text I read described the magic the same way, as a sort of yellowish-brown light, like the sun. But the magic that came from me was more of an icy blinding light, like the lights from the stars rather than the sun. Also, as far as I know, I don’t have family from the day court so I looked into the family I do have. My family from the autumn court. However, we know that autumn court magic is fire, and what manifested in me was light not heat. My grandmother was a nymph so I thought well what type of magic do nymphs have. And the answer was severely disappointing, with basic plant magic being the most a nymph was able to do. I was stumped for a few hours before I realized. I’m basing my research on what I believe to be true not what I know to be true. I was told that I am a quarter nymph and because that heritage would explain my non-high fae-like features I believed that, for there was no reason for me not to. But what if my nymph grandmother was not a nymph at all. I flipped through dozens of books on faeries that have similar features, light magic, and/or can live on land and water. For the most part, I could not find anything, but then out of the corner of my eye I found a small tome on the history of light magic, the majority being all things I’d seen a million times before on the day court, but a passage no more than a page long, referenced ‘the lightsinger.’ Now what is a Lightsinger, you may ask? Honestly, I had no idea what or who they were so I found every book and story I could on them. The lightsinger’s, instead of being a title for a way to manipulate magic, like shadowsingers or daemati, were a race. A long-lost fae race said to be able to bend and create light with their voices and song. It’s said that they died out due to a conflict with the shadowsingers but every so often there are sightings of unknown nymph-like creatures in you’ll never believe where. The autumn court. Now I would only have 25% of lightsinger blood but magic is a fickle thing and some sources believe that when bred with high fae blood the magic intensifies.” Gwyn exhaled.

Azriel grinned victoriously, “It’s been 20 minutes.”

“Goddamn it, I didn’t even get to the interactions between shadowsingers and lightsingers.”

Now he was intrigued. “Well if you want to continue I certainly won’t stop you.”

“No no,” she yawned, “I lost which means I will be going to bed. But I do want to alter our deal slightly.”

“Oh?”

“I sleep now, you train me tomorrow.” The set of her chin and the look in her eye were enough to assure him of how serious she was.

“You want a male who specializes in darkness to help you master your light?”

“Certain theories believe that the mother gifted the light and shadowsingers their gifts to balance each other out and to remain harmonious.” She reasoned. “So yes there is no one I would want more to teach me.”

“I will not take it easy on you.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“Alright Berdara, we meet Sunday at dawn, do not be late.”

“I’ll be there.”

——————————————————————————————————–

Sunday arrived and Azriel watched as Gwyn came down to the training ring in her leathers, with a white ribbon tied in her hair.

“Good morning Gwyneth.”

“So formal.” He shot her a look. “Oh alright ok my turn. Good morning Azriel, shadowsinger, spymaster of the night court, mate of the most amazing female to grace this planet.”

“Training is serious.”

“Of course it is. Shall we begin?”

“I want you to light up the room.”

“What? is it not already lit?”

He smirked and let his shadows paint the room black. Azriel himself became smoke, nothing more than a voice in the darkness.

“Az, az come on this is not funny.”

“Good, because it’s not a joke.” His voice came from every direction and every way Gwyn turned she was surrounded by endless nothing. “You must learn to sing the song of light the way I learned the language of shadow.”

“Speaking in vague melodrama feels like it’s not going to be that effective.”

Gwyn tried to back up only to find what was once the training ring now bled together with the depth of the sky.

“Let the light speak to you. Coax it, nurture it. Burn through the darkness and find the light.”

“How am I supposed to do that.”

Gwyn thought of the way Nesta harnessed her silver fire, the way her eyes became the flame itself. She concentrated and searched deep within herself, searching and looking for the light she knew she possessed.

All she saw was a hallowed chamber.

“No.” The word echoed throughout the room. “Our magic is not like others, we do not create out of nothing, we manipulate what is already there.”

“How am I supposed to manipulate if I’m in a room with no light?” Gwyn huffed frustrated.

“Just because the shadows are masking it, does not mean it is not there.”

He was so damn infuriating. She tried calling the light to her, she flexed her hands, she even tried speaking to it, all to no avail.

“As you said, magic is fickle and our elements especially. Light and darkness do not want to be bound or controlled, let the light be a friend, a companion, let it want to help, let it want to be influenced by your will.”

But how the fuck was she supposed to do that.

“Think of the first time it came to your call.” He whispered ominously. “What were you thinking. What were you feeling? Power often manifests through emotion.”

Singing. She had been singing. Was it really so easy that all she had to do was sing?

Turns out it wasn’t.

For hours she sang hundreds of songs. From songs in the old fae language that she sang at the priestess services to ones she had written herself. Nothing worked. Azriel had let her have a singular break when she desperately needed to pee and even then he was skeptical.

He had left her to her own devices leaving his shadows to watch over her progress. When he returned he found Gwyn clutching her knees, rocking in the shadows. Her gaze was unfocused and she was humming to herself.

“You have officially broken me. I’m done.” She wanted nothing more than to sit in the library with her sisters and a book.

“No.”

Gwyn’s eyes snapped into focus, her breathing steadied, and she went predatorily still. “Excuse me.”

“You heard me. No.” Azriel laughed, a cold vicious laugh. “You asked me to train you. Gwyneth Berdara has never quit before and she certainly won’t start now.”

Gwyn was seething, but she remained quiet. “What?” He was toying with her. “A little darkness too much for you. Light up the room and we won’t have a problem.”

“Oh that’s right you can’t. 10 hours in and no light in sight. You’re pathetic.”

Her anger cleared her mind and in that moment of clarity a memory, buried deep within her, resurfaced as if it was resting, snoozing until its moment of need.

Gwyn was in her mother's lap, a black-haired girl sat across from her. Her voice pulled her attention. “My girls, Catrin,” She tickled her, resulting in a giggle from her lost sister, before she turned her head, “Gwyneth.” And also tickled her. Gwyn's small hands clutched at their mother, desperately trying to hold on. “My two beautiful daughters.” She sighed. “Your lives will be filled with so much darkness, darkness that you do not deserve. But I need you two to be strong, to stay with each other, and to find strength in the other.” ‘I don’t get it,” Gwyn whined.

“We are a part of a glorious and lost people, a people of light and song. But they fear us because they do not understand us.”

Gwyn and Catrin looked up at her, confused and innocent.

“It’s ok, you will. You know the song I sing to you every night before you go to sleep?” Gwyn and Catrin cheered, “Yeah.”

“I want you to sing it with me, and I don’t want you to ever forget it. Can you do that for me?”

Their voices came together in a melodic lullaby. It was captivating and cold, those who heard could not look away. The song demanded to be heard, to be sung.

The words came tumbling out of Gwyn, they twisted around her tongue and lips as if finally home. Lost but not forgotten. Lost but born anew. Through the shadow and darkness, her eyes found the light, it heard her call and from every direction it found her. She pulled the brilliance of the stars to her and let the light paint the dark white.

The shadows retreated to Azriel who stood just two feet in front of her. Their eyes locked and he smiled, “there she is.”

The light flowed and flowed, and the room lit up in a blaze of pearlescent radiance. Her pale skin lit and she had once again become one with the stars.

But while the call came from her, there was another that drew her light forward. His shadows and her light curiously answered the pull. Finding each other between Azriel and Gwyn. One did not dissolve into the other like it should but instead mingled, swirling around each other in an almost playful manner. They became one from two opposites that never should have met.

As they blended together she felt a pounding in her chest and a throbbing somewhere lower. Her toes curled and she craved more. Their power was its own entity and yet connected to them. A push and pull, a desire to be close.

Azriel bridged the gap between them breathing heavily, pulling her against him as he’d never felt her before. “Az.” she gasped.

His eyes were on her lips as he licked his own, smiling, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so alive.”

“You’re the worst,” She said between breaths.

“I know.” And their lips met in a furious burst of passion.

He kissed her with a fiery hunger, a male starving. Her hands weaved through his hair, her fingers getting lost in the darkness. Gwyn wanted nothing more then to be lost in his darkness, as he wanted to drown in her light. Azriel gripped her waist, grinding his hardness into her causing her to moan.

“You make such pretty sounds for me.” He chuckled, ripping her shirt off.

“Fuck me.” It was an order, not a request.

“Gladly.” Their clothes were gone moments later. His kisses moved down her neck as he sucked and his fingers dipped to her cunt as he felt her. “Always so wet and ready for me.”

She wrapped her hand around his cock, “Always so hard for me.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.” He laid her down in the middle of the training ring and stroked his cock up and down her folds, pressing against her clit. “oh my god-fuck.”

With that, his control snapped and he buried himself to the hilt in her. Stroking once, twice.

He smirked, crooning, “look how perfectly we fit.”

His thrusts were slow and shallow, edging her on, basking in the feel of him in her, of her around him.

He then went harder, hitting her in the right spot every time, but Gwyn needed more.

“Faster.”

“Your wish is my command.” Azriel fucked her hard and fast, and with every thrust she moaned in ecstasy, driving her hips forward, meeting him step for step.

“Oh my god fuck me.”

“Such a good girl, taking it so well.” He captured a moan on her lips, devouring her.

“yes, yes fuck.”

Where the light met the dark, was where Gwyn met Azriel. They were cocooned in a shell of power flowing between and all around them. They were a storm of blinding light and depthless shadow, the lines of what were and were not, blurred to just the other.

“Gwyn.” He groaned, nothing existed but them.

“Az I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, my love, cum for me.”

Every thrust became sporadic and uncontrolled as if his pleasure had taken a mind of its own. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and ground her clit with his fingers.

It was all too much, Gwyn cried out as she came, her back arching, toes curling. Her cunt tightened around his cock as he fucked her past completion. She was everything and watching her cum was enough to send him over the edge as he emptied himself in her, collapsing on the ground next to her.

For a moment they were silent before Gwyn spoke, “would you like to hear what I learned about the interactions between Lightsinger’s and Shadowsinger’s” She smirked, “Apparently the sex is unlike even mate sex.”

“I can vouch for that.”

Gwyn laughed, and if it wasn’t the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

#gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #gwyn x azriel #one shot #gwynriel one shot #smut #Gwynriel fanfiction

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ilovejevsjeans · 3 years ago

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Why '5/10' Ricciardo isn't giving up on his McLaren quest

“Oh, don’t make me do that!”

In a routine McLaren interview with selected members of the media, Daniel Ricciardo is asked to give himself a grade for his performances this season.

“From an on-track point of view, like a results point of view, I wouldn't give myself too much of a flattering grade,” he says. “But I don't want to say what I think! Because that just makes me sound pretty shit.”

After eight races, Ricciardo is ninth in the drivers’ standings. He has finished sixth three times, but never higher. In qualifying, he’s been knocked out in Q2 on three occasions, and in Portugal didn't even make it past Q1. Most importantly, he has less than half the points scored by teammate Lando Norris, who in 2021 has done everything to make Ricciardo's difficult adaptation as glaring as possible.

"On a more positive, on like an off-track grade, I'll definitely give myself a nine," he says. "Definitely, the results aren't through a lack of trying. And I certainly feel like I've put in the work.

"I think it will eventually come to fruition, and it will show. But so far the on-track stuff, I don't know… call it a five out of ten. I'm certainly wanting to improve that."

The start of the 2021 season has been difficult for every driver who's changed teams. But it bears admitting that Ricciardo's struggles are more notable. Sergio Perez has already won a race (admittedly in fortuitous circumstances) for Red Bull, Carlos Sainz Jr is close to Charles Leclerc's points total at Ferrari, Sebastian Vettel is having his renaissance at Aston Martin, and even Fernando Alonso after two years away is now regularly beating Alpine teammate Esteban Ocon.

These guys no longer need to find the words to talk about adaptation, a lack of mileage in pre-season testing and car specifics. They are facing fewer questions of that nature. But not Ricciardo.

"I've been trying to use different kinds of analogies to explain to – without being rude – the outside world, to try and get the words across," he says. "Ultimately, yes, I've been driving F1 for a few years and all the cars are… they're not the same, but it's the same category at least.

"But with some of the way the car is at the moment, some of the quirks and the way it likes to be driven, I'm basically trying to get good at kick a ball with my left foot. My instinct is obviously kick a ball with my right foot, that's easy. But now to really perfect this car, I'm trying to now learn how to kick with my left. That's maybe a good analogy."

Even if it is a good analogy, you'd think a driver of Ricciardo's race-winning calibre should have already figured out that left-foot kick – and he too is keenly aware that it's not a process that can go on forever.

"Once you can kind of balance it on this nice little knife edge, the car can certainly be quick," he explains. "And I think that's probably another way of putting it as well, is that it does have a bit of a sweet spot, but it is just quite small. And obviously, if you're outside of it, then you're not getting the performance.

"Even Lando is saying the car is quite different this year. And, you know, the tyres have changed, and most drivers seem to be commenting about that. And now the floors are narrower at the rear. So there's some changes as well, which maybe even if I was still in Renault or Alpine this year, maybe there would be some similar kind of comments or difficulties.

"But I've got to a point now where I'm also trying not to fill my head with it. It is different, sure. But it can't be different forever. At some point, this is it, this is the car I've got, and 'different' needs to become 'normal' and get on with it."

Ricciardo's difficulties are made more curious by the fact that two years ago he'd already switched teams, and his adaptation from Red Bull to Renault had proved much smoother. But with McLaren it's a different situation, he insists.

"I think, going into a new team, you're always going to have to find or adapt to something," he says. "And I would say adapting to the Renault, I was still able to adapt with a similar driving style or something that was more natural for me. Yeah, the car felt different, but I could still approach it with the same style.

"Where this one now, currently the car feels different. I think the Renault, there was some adaptation but also I could still kind of use my style, call it instinct. Where the McLaren, it's a little more detailed than that, I guess. I look at it as a positive as well, like in the long run if I can learn how to drive with a different style, then I have more tools in my arsenal."

The faster "different becomes normal" for Ricciardo, the better for McLaren. The team is currently fighting with Ferrari for third place in the constructors' standings and needs a strong Ricciardo to hold onto the position it claimed last year.

"I told them, 'I'll be half a second quicker,'" he laughs when responding to a question about whether his expectations of McLaren have matched reality – perhaps hinting that, if there is a side that hasn't had its expectations met, it's McLaren itself.

Yet Ricciardo's broad smile suggests that, for his part, he is satisfied.

"I think, from a team feeling and environment, like I'm very, very, very happy", he says. "I would love to think that they are also happy.

"It's just now really sorting the on-track stuff, and getting, obviously, the stopwatch going. I think we're in a position now where, yes, currently I need to drive this car better. But I think we also don't want to lose, let's call it my strengths and what got me to this position.

"There's also the two-way street of me continuously giving feedback to the team about, 'Okay, what you guys can do better to help me'. They're obviously trying to help me drive the current car, but I'm trying to help them get the car to obviously a happier place [so] that it's not like, you know, [me] overthinking every corner and trying to be with this style here and this style there, ultimately to get to a place where we can drive naturally.

"I think when you're free, that's normally when the lap time comes, so it's a two-way process now. The team has been great, and I want to give them more, absolutely. But I think they also understand that it's a journey. I signed a three-year contract with them. We'd love to have fireworks already, but we know that we've got time on our side to get it right, and go through the process properly.

"I think with McLaren, there's a lot of things I love. They tick every box, and there's always follow-ups. If I ask a question, if they can't answer it immediately, then, you know, I'll be sure to get a phone call or an email or something.

"And they're also very open-minded. There is some new faces in the team. But there's also some people who have been at McLaren for years and years, but they're also not holding on to the world championships from however long ago, they're constantly trying to be better, evolve, stay with the times. The mindset creates a really nice energy in the team and that's really cool."

There's definitely light at the end of the tunnel. Ricciardo enjoyed a strong drive to sixth in the French Grand Prix, pulling off some striking overtakes, while in last weekend's Styrian Grand Prix he could have finished higher than his eventual 13th without a short-lived loss of power that led to him allowing four rivals through on the seventh lap. And, all in all, Ricciardo did score six times in the first eight races of the season.

"It's funny, because I look at Bahrain and I outqualified Lando," he points out. "I think I was the only new driver to do it, you know, in the new team. So it's funny, you look at race one, you're like, 'oh, well this is, you know, a 10 out of 10'.

"But currently, it's probably been a bit of unfamiliar territory. Because normally, especially like qualifying, when I need to pull the trigger, so to speak, I can find the lap time – I don't want to say easily – but relatively comfortable. And it's certainly taking a bit more probably just conscious effort at the moment, so that's where it's been a bit more challenging. But yeah, although my score says 'call it a five' – and it's what it is now – I am uberconfident that increases as the year goes on.

"So panic not, my friends."

In the end, Ricciardo simply has no choice. Whatever it takes, he needs to make it work with McLaren, as it's probably his last chance to go for the title, even if right now it looks like a long shot. Mercedes and Ferrari didn't make a play for his services when he was a free agent, and there's probably no way back to Red Bull either.

If Ricciardo still wants to win the title, he's got to do it with McLaren. And he hasn't got that much time left either.

"I think it was Monaco 2016, where I was talking about my age," Ricciardo, now 32, says. "Now that I've got older, I'm in my 30s, I think the reality is I'll be in this for as long as I want, in terms of the age. At least for now it isn't going to slow me down, not in the next few years.

"If I'm still hungry and determined, I can keep that window open for the title. I'm aware now [a chance] to win five titles is becoming slimmer and slimmer. But still to win one, I think there's time on my side.

"The McLaren one is certainly where my ambition is. And I definitely want to see this one through hopefully with a lot of success." (X)

#daniel ricciardo #dan #articles

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wornoutmouse · 3 years ago

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@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff.

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?"

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing.

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging.

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat.

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that. Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way."

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room.

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening.

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge.

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants.

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.”

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch.

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!"

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot, "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways.

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good. The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes. Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard. "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that."

He bowed his head and rested on your back, kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed.

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out.

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read.

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow

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toosicktoocare · 4 years ago

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Jason knows the second he’s pulled from sleep by a low vibration close to his head that today’s going to go down in the books as, to put it simply, a bad day. There’s a dull sense of pressure in his head, pushing lightly against the base of his skull, and his phone buzzing insistently beside his head is only heightning his overall awareness that he’s got one hell of a mirgaine trying to grow against his brain.

He slaps his hand around blindly for his phone, squeezing his eyes shut against the drum of pressure as he clumsily presses answer on his phone with a groan.

“Look, Dick Brain, I’ve already told you that I’m not teaming up with you lot of dumb birds tonight. I have my own shit, so you you all need to keep your shit to yourselves.”

“Master Jason?”

Jason isn’t prepared for the polite accent on the other line, one that’s distinctly laced with an air of disappointment. He shoots up in bed, his free hand flying to push against the alarming wave of pressure that’s blooming across is forehead. “Shit, Alfred. Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“I assumed as much. Did I wake you?”

Jason clears his throat to rid the lingering dryness from sleep that’s coating his throat. He blinks slowly at the digital clock on his bedside table until his mind finally makes sense of the numbers and orders: 10:22 AM.

He contemplates lying for a breath of a moment only to chase the thought away with a shake of the head. Alfred will know; he always does.

“Yeah,” he laughs quietly. “Guess I slept in a little.”

“Are you quite alright, Master Jason? It’s unlike you to sleep past 7 AM.”

Jason mentally supplies the words that go unsaid: ‘because of your nightmares.’ Sighing, he digs his fingers into his forehead, massaging around the blossoming pressure. “Yeah, just a headache.”

“Not one of your migraines, I hope.”

“Nah,” Jason tries for an airy attitude, one void of any concern, and to his legitimate surprise, Alfred seems to accept his answer, though hesitantly.

“If you’re absolutely sure...”

Deflect, Jason supplies to himself. “I assume Dick’s got you calling to do his dirty work?”

“Not quite. Master Bruce asked me to call when Dick informed him that you’ve been dodging his calls all week.”

“That’s new,” Jason mutters, swinging his legs over the bed and sliding to his feet. The sudden change in weight distribution elevates the pressure in his head. He swallows back a gasp, free hand finding the wall for support as he shuffles from his bedroom to his bathroom in search for pain killers. “What’s so important about tonight? Sounds like a standard drug bust that Dick can more than handle on his own.”

“Master Bruce would feel better if all of his sons were present tonight.”

Jason doesn’t understand Bruce’s mind, his logic and reasoning for his choices. He never has, and he gathers that he never will. He snags a bottle of pain killers and balances his phone between his ear and shoulder, ignoring to sudden shift of pain in his head.

“I have my own patrol, Alfred.”

“We’ll have all patrols covered, Master Jason. Your territory will be well looked after tonight.”

Damn, Jason thinks. If there’s one thing Alfred is good at, it’s his verbal reassurance, something so frighteningly powerful. He dry swallows a few pills and drops against the edge of his tub with a sigh, fingers raking through his hair.

“Fine. Will you send me the details?” He drags out each word slowly, making sure that Alfred knows he’s only agreeing because it’s Alfred asking.

“Of course.”

***

Jason’s head feels far too heavy on his neck, the added pressure weighing it down. The pain killers chased off the edge of the migraine for a few hours, but per usual, the pain came back stronger as the pills wore off, and he’s opted not to take more, not wishing to risk being slightly sluggish.

He walks up to see Dick, Tim, and Damian occupying a small corner down an alleyway, their odd meetup point. Tim’s seated, his back against a wall, and he’s yawning. Dick’s stood with his back against a wall across from Tim, his arms crossed, as he muffles a few light coughs into his fist. And, Damian’s standing closer to Dick with his right arm cradled close to his chest.

Tension trickles down to Jason’s limbs, and he grips his helmet a little tighter in his hand as he approaches. “The fuck’s wrong with you all?” His own voice is a drill in his head, piercing through the pressure and re-distributing it unevenly.

It’s Tim who opts to speak around a second yawn.

“Dick’s still recovering from the flu, and the Demon Brat hurt his wrist on patrol yesterday.”

“My wrist is fine, Drake,” Damian spits out, drawing out words deliberately.

“I assume you haven’t slept,” Jason mutters, nodding toward Tim, who’s slow to get to his feet.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Dick cuts in sharply, and Jason arches a single brow to the oldest, faintly curious. “You need sleep, Tim, or you’ll wind up sick.”

“Funny since you’re the one who’s running a low grade fever.”

“Grayson is competent, Drake, even while recovering from illness. He’s not so easily taken down by the flu.”

“And what are you planning on doing tonight, Damian,” Tim drags out lowly, and Jason shifts his faint curiosity from one idiot to the other.

“You can barely move your wrist.”

“I’ve been trained to be ambidextrous, Drake-”

“-Okay,” Jason calls out, the curiosity from before replaced with dull, familair annoyance that’s now mixed in with a hot pain swirling in his skull. “Let’s just get this the fuck over with, yeah?” He looks to Dick, a silent question to take charge, and Dick nods and turns on his heel, leading everyone to the hinted base for the drug ring.

“Father would tell you to watch your language,” Damian mutters at Jason’s side before he quickens his step to match Dick’s steady pace.

Jason flips him off and shoves his helmet over his head, swallowing back a groan when the added weight pushes the pressure in different directions. Nausea starts to tumble in his stomach, and he tries his best to steady his breathing, pushing his concentration away from himself.

“So, Timmy, what are the deets? Alfred didn’t say much.”

***

Turns out, Bruce’s hunch was correct, and all four were forced to hold their own against multiple, burly men, all of which got in numerous, painful hits before being taken down. The fight ended at the top of an apartment building across the street from the warehouse that was doubling as the drug storage, and Jason’s not sure he’s ever felt this much pain in his head, knowing that it didn’t help he let a few men get some solid hits to his face and temples.

The others appear to be, more or less, in similar conditions. Dick’s down on one knee, panting heavily. Damian’s paler than usual, and he’s got his wrist held tightly to his chest, and Tim’s swaying on his feet, looking about ready to drop any second.

Jason pulls a slow gaze around them, swallowing thickly around the bursting pressure that’s pushing hard against every inch of his skull now, swelling against his brain, leaving his vision fraying at the edges. He’s faintly aware that the others are talking amongst each other, but he can’t keep up with the conversation, not with the sudden roar in his ears that drowns out the voices around him.

The pain’s... intense. It’s all he’s able to supply, most thoughts breaking against the pressure. He takes a step back, fingers clumsily slipping under his helmet. His vision is graying now, blurring, and he tries to blink around it. He can see Dick get to his feet, see the older boy frowning at him. He’s saying something to him, but Jason can’t work his mind around reading lips. No, all he wants is to get the damn helmet off his head, but his hands are shaking too hard to be of any use.

He starts to feel hot all over despite the crisp fall air. He takes another, staggering step back, his legs struggling to hold his balance, to support the weight of his abdomen and head, and the back of his foot knocks hard into something. He only realizes that he’s bumped into the edge of the roof when he’s falling backward into open, empty space.

His stomach plummets in time with his body, bringing back his vision, sounds, his surroundings.

“Jason!”

He pulls his gaze from the tilting sky to see the others coming into view, and he wonders, briefly, if it’s the last thing he’ll ever see, but the thought gets josteled from his head when something small yet strong latches onto his ankle, followed by a loud, gasping cry.

His back slams against the side of the apartment building, bringing with it bursting, white hot pain across his head, but he manages to stay present, craning his neck up to see Damian crying and holding onto his ankle with his injured hand. Dick stumbles toward them, wrapping one arm tightly around Damin to keep him up on the roof.

“Jason! Do you think you can lean upward?”

Nodding, Jason breathes deeply around the pain and nausea, and he swings himself upward, arms flying forward until he’s grasping at the hands reaching out to him. Dick and Tim pull him up, and the second he’s upright, his vision grays until he blacks out entirely.

***

“Come on, Jay, open your eyes for me.”

Jason wants to be annoyed that the voice is waking him, but there’s something so soft and desperate in the tone, in the gentle touches at his face, so he decides to try and chase it.

“Bruce is on his way.”

That brings Jason back all at once, his mind reeling against pain, and nausea twisting so hard in his stomach. He leans to the side and vomits, mutely thankful that someone removed his helmet.

“Shit, Jason!”

He can feel a hand at his back, rubbing small circles, and when his stomach settles, he flops back onto his back with a groan, only faintly aware that his head is pillowed on Dick’s thigh.

“Jay? You with us?”

“Bruce says he’s two minutes out. He wants to know if we can make it off the roof.”

Jason realizes slowly that there’s a voice missing, and then memories flood agaisnt the pressure in his head until he’s jerking forward to see Damian sitting across from his, tear trackes evident against his cheeks.

“Fuck, Damian, your wrist-”

“It’s okay.” Damain’s voice is shaking, and Jason leans forward to pat Damian’s knee, unsure of what else he could do or say to properly express the heavy weight of appreciation for Damian saving his life.

“Jason, what happened? Are you sick?” Dick’s voice is laced deep with worry at Jason’s back, two hands planted firmly to Jason’s shoulders.

Before Jason can answer, Bruce is swinging himself over the ledge of the roof, fully suited, dark eyes shifting between each son, falling on Jason.

“Migraine,” he answers deeply for Jason. “Alfred suspected as much.” Bruce stops before him. “Can you walk?”

Jason nods and allows Bruce to pull him to his feet. He sways for a moment, swallows back the need to dry heave, and grounds himself, faintly aware that Bruce’s hand is just inches from his elbow. He doesn’t meet Bruce’s studying gaze, doesn’t fully breathe until Bruce breaks away to assess the others.

He watches, exhausted, as Damian argues with Bruce that he doesn’t need to be carried. He frowns when Tim stumbles into Dick, and Dick crouches down and instructs Tim to climb atop his back. He follows behind the others, listening in briefly to hear Tim grumble how Dick’s fever feels like it’s spiking, or how Bruce’s is tugging Damian tightly to his side and muttering reassurances under his breath.

When they reach the ground floor, his knees begin to shake, but then Alfred’s at his side, worried, arm tight around his shoulders, and he’s guided into one of Bruce’s many cars, squeezing in the back beside the others. Tim’s directly to his left, and he drops his head to Jason’s shoulder almost immediately. Jason nudges him forward just enough to slip his arm around his back, and Tim curls closer into him.

Jason decides that just for tonight, he’ll let him. He cranes his neck to see Damian similarly clinging to Dick, and he locks eyes with Dick, the two sharing a mutual, tired nod.

Dragging his gaze slowly forward, Jason squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on the lull of the engine and not on the drum pounding in his head.

“Shall I drop Master Jason off at his apartment?”

“No, I want all of my sons at the manor tonight.”

#batfam #batman #batbros #sickfic #whump #whumpfic #dcu #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #red hood #nightwing #red robin #robin #hurt/comfort #hi dysfunctional family

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allthingskakashi · 4 years ago

Note

8 please🥺🥺🥺

• Under Grey Skies •

[ Kakashi x Reader] // 3k

Fluff Prompt : “No, like... it’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes” // Kakashi x Reader

A/n: This was supposed to be "short" but i unfortunately do not comprehend that word. Dunno what that is mate never heard of it, and i also haven't written in a month and have become quite rusty so here i hope you enjoy this 3k worded hot pile of stinking poo 👍🏼😃

When you left your house at 10 am this morning, the skies were clear as glass. No clouds in sight, and a brightly glowing Sun perched high overhead. That was the very reason you’d chosen today to get done with your errands, the hundreds of errands you’d been putting off for weeks now.

Not so surprisingly however, fate had been pulling a dirty prank on you. Soon after you left the house, dark grey splotches appeared across the sky, engulfing the sunny rays and shortly afterwards, the streets began to ring with the sound of splattering rain.

So here you are now, standing on the roadside under the shed of Ichiraku Ramen with a hand full of heavy bags, watching the thundering rains which show no sign of stopping any time soon. You are unquestionably without an umbrella, and the handles of the big brown bags in your hands are beginning to leave painful red lines across your palms.

You have no idea how long this wretched rain will go on for and by the looks of it, you’re in for a long haul, so you decide that you might as well make yourself comfortable.

Letting out a loud sigh and muttering a string of expletives under your breath, you put your bags down on the counter of the ramen shop. Your stomach grumbles as you take a seat on one of stools, your eyes falling upon the menu chart stuck to the wall, with names of all sorts of ramen variants written on it, complete with matching bright pictures alongside.

Hot ramen. That sounds so good right now.

But taking a peek inside your purse, you’re met with disappointment. You’d only come out with enough money for your errands and with what you have left, the best you can get is one candy. And not even the good kind.

You sit waiting with your drenched clothes sticking to your body, drops of water rolling down from the tips of your hair to your lap. Out ahead, the rain is creating puddles of water on the street, and you watch the rush of pedestrians hurrying to get home, eager to avoid ending up in your state.

If it weren’t for all these bags, you might have been able to do the same.

Someone runs past you, sending a big splash of water to your feet as you retreat further into your stool, letting out another sigh.

Of course, this happens to me.

Your plan was to finish all your errands and pick up some stuff for lunch. Your busy schedule hadn’t allowed you to cook yourself a nice meal in a long time and you really wanted to use this weekend off to cook yourself something delicious, have a glass of wine, read a book and relax within the comfort of your home. The home which you barely got to spend any time in these days. But of course, you’re stuck out in the streets in the pouring rain instead.

You remain sitting for you’re not sure how long. The streets have long cleared up. The same however cannot be said for the rain, which has only grown worse in the past half an hour. You’re frustrated out of your mind, counting sheep in your head when suddenly, the frame of a familiar figure on the road catches your eye. Your heart instinctively does a flip at the sight of the silver haired man, who seems to be walking towards you in slow, careless saunter.

You feel the panic in your throat rise and steadily grow into a lump. This day has been horrible enough already, without the disaster of Kakashi seeing you in this pitiful state to add to it. You’ve already made a fool of yourself in front of him more times than you’d like to admit, thanks to your awkward, clumsy self and you don’t need it again, especially not today. There’s just something about Kakashi that makes the wiring in your brain go completely haywire, causing you to end up acting like an imbecile every single time you're around him.

You straighten up in your stool as you see him nearing, tucking a clump of wet hair behind your ear as the thud inside your heart grows louder and louder with each of his approaching steps. But before you’re able to steady your breath, he’s right outside the shop, lifting the white banner to let himself in.

“Y/n?” he exclaims, folding his umbrella and shaking it off as takes your sight in. “What are you doing out here in the rain?”

He’s standing closer to you than your heart can take and you clear your throat before answering.

“Oh, I just… came out for errands and didn’t anticipate the rain.” You say, rolling your eyes and glancing at the cluster of bags behind you. You watch his eyes dart towards them before returning to you. “You look like you did, though” you say, pointing at the umbrella in his hand with a smile.

He looks down, shaking his head, “Ah, that’s just my ninken. They have a nose for this sort of thing, so they let me know beforehand.” He says, returning your smile.

You watch the way his mask creases as he smiles, the air surrounding you falling into a comfortable silence as you watch him in awe, a stupid grin plastered across your face. It almost feels like you’re having a moment, and it could’ve been a good one, had your stomach not let out a loud, hungry growl in the middle of it.

Your demeanour changes immediately, the grin on your face receding as your eyebrows shoot up and you feel a warm rush creep its way to your cheeks.

Kakashi lets out a chuckle, looking otherwise unaffected. “It seems like you’re hungry.” he says, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, I uh…” you fumble, averting your eyes to avoid looking at him, “didn’t have breakfast today.”

“Well, come on then.” Kakashi replies flatly, nodding his head towards the direction of the street. Beyond him, the clouds are grumbling, the rain still falling in a steady splatter.

You look up at his words, the thud in your heart making itself known once again. “Come… where?”

He looks at you as if you asked him what the color of grass is.

“Well you didn’t think I was gonna leave you out here, did you?” he asks, his tone implying that you shouldn’t even have thought of such a stupid question.

“Well i was actually pretty much preparing to spend the night here today” you reply with a relieved chuckle, before jumping down from your stool.

"Sorry to spoil your plans, then" he says and you turn around, reaching for the bags on the counter but Kakashi gets to them before you. “Let me” he interjects, pulling the heavy bags down from the counter as if they were cotton.

“You take this” he commands, holding the umbrella out to you as he distributes your bags evenly between each of his hands.

In spite of the somersaults that your stomach is making inside your body, you feel pretty grateful to have run into him.

“I have to say, I’m kind of glad you came along” you say, flashing him a big grin and watching his eyes beam with a shy smile as you take the umbrella from him, turning around to face the rain outside, which all of a sudden, doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

Kakashi stands close behind you as you stretch out the umbrella and hold it above your heads, both of you stepping out onto the wet slippery street.

You balance it high enough so it covers Kakashi’s head and make your way ahead, trying your best not to step into any puddles.

“My place is just around the corner” he remarks, crouching ever so slightly and nestling close to you to fit himself under the umbrella. “We’ll be there within five minutes.”

That’s a damn shame is what you want to say, but instead, you just nod.

The umbrella is too small for the both of you to be cramped under, and you can’t help the constant bumping of your arms with each alternate step.

Every nerve in your body is high on alert, exceedingly aware of Kakashi’s proximity to you and with every light brush of his bare forearm against yours, you feel a shiver run through your skin, the hair in your arm standing up in consequence. You wonder if Kakashi can feel it, but you suppose even if he did, it could just be blamed on the strong gusts of cold wind.

“The rain is kind of beautiful though, isn’t it?” you interrupt, more to distract yourself than anything else.

Kakashi turns his face, peering down at you as his mouth drawls into a slow smile. “It sure is.” he says, and it almost feels like he wants to add something more, but he doesn’t.

Raindrops pound heavily down on the umbrella covering you, its rhythmic sound matching the beats of your own heart. You continue walking without exchanging any more words, the silence between you cut only by the rain, your heartbeat and the squeaky noise of your slippers.

You put all your concentration into fixating your gaze on the ground, attempting not only to make sure you avoid an embarrassing slip or a fall, but to ignore the little voice in your head. The voice that has constantly been whispering into your ears, planting all sorts of seeds in your mind about what it would be like, to just reach your hand out right now and grip Kakashi’s hand, which is so so close to you, intertwining his long fingers with yours.

You shake your head, shoving the temptation away and look up at Kakashi, scooting closer to ensure you don’t push him out into the rain.

For someone cramped under a small umbrella in the heavy rain, carrying another person’s bags, you notice that he looks quite…unbothered. Up this close, you cannot help observing how beautiful his eyelashes are, and you resist, for the hundredth time, the urge to press yourself against him and litter his face with kisses.

Your reverie is broken, and thankfully so by the sound of his voice. “We’re here”, he says, stopping in front of an old building and pushing open the small iron gate with his foot, stepping aside to let you in first.

You might be making this up, but you think you heard him sound almost disappointed.

You gaze up at the white four storeyed building in front of you. The jounin headquarters. Being a chunnin yourself, you’ve never been here before. And until today, you never thought you would any time soon, especially under this kind of a circumstance.

Stepping inside under the shade, you close the umbrella, finding yourself wishing that the jounin quarters weren’t quite so close by. Kakashi follows in after you with the bags and the both of you make your way up a long winding staircase. The metal bannister looks rusty, like it hasn’t been furnished in a long time. You climb up three flights of stairs, before stopping outside a door on the fourth floor.

Looking around, you notice that there are two more doors other than Kakashi’s on this floor, but they seem to be unoccupied. Your damp clothes cling to your skin and you can feel a small chill run through you.

“I feel kind of bad, intruding upon you like this” you say, rubbing your arms and waiting as Kakashi scours his pocket for the keys. “Are you sure I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Just a lonely afternoon”, he answers reassuringly, before jamming a key into the lock and pushing the door open.

“Come on in”, he says as you step inside, taking the view of his living room in and telling yourself again and again that you really are in Kakashi Hatake’s apartment. It’s a small one, but well maintained and with minimal clutter. Behind you, Kakashi hangs his wet vest on a hook in the wall and keeps your bags down on the floor.

“y/n you’re shivering”, he says in a concerned tone, looking up at your shuddering body dripping water all over his floor.

“Shit! I’m so sorry, I’m making such a mess” you say, noticing the small puddle of water that has formed near your feet. “Do you have a towel or anything I could wipe this off with?” you ask, your face borrowing the look of an apologetic dog who’s made a mess on the carpet.

“Leave all that to me” Kakashi says, waving you off and guiding you towards his bathroom by your shoulders. “Go take a hot shower and get changed into some warm clothes. Can’t have a shinobi of the Leaf fall sick under my watch.”

His tone is enough to make you melt into a mush and you comply, stepping into his bathroom as he disappears into another room. “Towels are in the shelf!” you hear him yell as you study his bathroom cabinet. Like his living room, his bathroom cabinet is also devoid of any clutter and only occupied by the bare essentials.

You turn the switch to the geyser on, waiting for the water to get hot as Kakashi reappears in the doorway, clutching a pair of his clothes. “Here”, he says, holding the clothes out to you. “I suppose they will be a little loose on you, but—”

“It’s perfect.”, you cut him off. “Thank you, Kakashi. I’m really… I’m really thankful for this.” You say, taking the clothes from him.

“It’s no big deal” he smiles. “I’ll be outside” he says and you nod, closing the door.

The water is just the right amount of warm and you take a blissful shower, the bliss of the moment only intensified by the realisation that you, Y/n, are really in Kakashi Hatake’s house. Not just in his house, but also in his bathroom, using his towels and wearing his clothes.

You wipe yourself dry, hanging your discarded clothes on the rack beside an already hanging trouser and slip yourself into the fresh pair of clothes. It’s a baggy grey t shirt and navy blue trousers, both quite loose against your frame. The t shirt runs past your thighs but the trousers thankfully have strands which you have tied tightly enough, so you hope they won’t slip down any time soon.

You catch a glimpse of your face in the cabinet mirror and find yourself glowing. But more than your skin, it’s probably your heart giving you that glow. You pull the shirt up to your nose, inhaling the smell in. It smells just like you thought Kakashi would. Comforting… familiar, like something that makes you feel at home. Like the smell of crayons from your childhood, or freshly baked cookies.

Smiling to yourself and revelling in the pure comfort and warmth of his clothes, you step out, fanning your wet hair out with your hand

A delicious smell hits your nose almost immediately, and you’re reminded of how completely starved you are.

You step further into the dining area, and find Kakashi in the kitchen adjacent to it, doing something on the gas. You notice that he’s changed into a pair of fresh clothes too, and seeing him in anything other than his uniform for the first time makes something flip inside you.

He turns around, his eyes lighting up immediately as he catches sight of you. You watch him look you up and down, before breaking into a boyish chuckle.

“What?” you ask confused, looking at him and then down at yourself. “Oh crap, I’m wearing the shirt inside out, Jesus!” you say, huffing as you attempt to make a turn back towards the bathroom.

“Oh, no that’s not it” you hear Kakashi object behind you, shaking his head.

You stop at the sound of his voice, turning around as he speaks. “I wasn’t laughing at you. Although… you do look a little funny”

You narrow your eyes at Kakashi and he raises his hands up in defence. “Just a little!” he protests as you make an eyeroll in reply, before pressing on. “What is it, then?”

You watch his muscles tense up ever so slightly, as he flips something on the pan a few times before looking back at you, his dark eyes sombre.

“No, like...” he fumbles, “it’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” He says softly.

You feel a warm rush of blood creep up to your cheeks as you look down, burning under the intensity of his gaze. Your fingers fidget with the hem of his shirt as you scour your brain to come up with something, anything to say.

Thankfully for you, the oven timer dings, attracting his attention away from you and putting you out of your quandary.

“What’s that?” you ask, drawing nearer to him to take a peek at everything he seems to have strewn about on the kitchen counter.

His words still ring at the back of your mind, lying in a thick cloak around you, making your heart beat faster than it usually does, even around him.

“It’s nothing much, you were hungry, so…I just whipped something up.” he says, but judging by the smell, you’re pretty sure that it’s nothing he has “just whipped up”.

“It smells delicious, Kakashi”, you say, almost feeling yourself choking up. You cannot recall the last time someone had prepared a meal for you. And now, here you are, standing in Kakashi Hatake’s kitchen, and he had not only saved your pitiful ass from the rain and invited you to his house and let you shower at his place but he had also cooked a meal for you. For YOU, with his own two hands.

You feel your stomach twisting and turning in all sorts of ways, but it’s not just the hunger. It’s something else and the realisation dawns upon you that if it’d mean ending up in Kakashi’s kitchen in this way again, you’d gladly be stranded in the cold rain out on the streets a thousand times over, and then a hundred more.

His voice breaks you out of your trance for the second time that day and you look up at him, his beautiful face formed into the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. He holds a hand out, gesturing towards the table where he seems to have carefully laid out two plates.

“Come on, let’s eat?” he says, and you follow along, thanking the universe silently in your heart for making it rain today.

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sunflowers-and-mooncakes · 4 years ago

Text

To Dream of a Bird

Part 1 of Dreams of Birds and Angels a series of two one shots written for @pawsitivelymiraculous for the Maribat Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange hosted by @eat0crow!

Ao3

Part 2 can be found here

***

For as long as she could remember, Marinette had been utterly giddy at the prospect of getting to see her soulmate in her dreams that night. As the youngest in her class, she had heard all of the others talk excitedly about the memories from their soulmates they would experience since they turned 8. When her best friend Nino would come over for lunch at the bakery, he would tell her excitedly about the girl with caramel skin and glasses whose face he could never quite remember.

Her parents would also talk often of soulmates. As they tucked her in at night, they would tell her about how they had gained the twin marks they always displayed on their left arms when they first met. Her Papa would tell her about the pretty girl with blue-black hair who moved from across the world, and her Maman would regale tales of the brown-haired boy who worked in a bakery.

On the day of her 8th birthday, Marinette practically rushed her guests out of the apartment as the sun set below the horizon. She leapt into bed as she yelled to her parents that she was 8 now, and she had to see her soulmate right away. Her parents chuckled to each other as they kissed her forehead and turned out the lights.

As she awoke the next morning, the Eurasian girl ruminated about what she had seen. The boy in her dreams had beautiful black hair and tan skin. He had appeared no older than her, yet he wore a serious look and held something like a sword at his side. It was odd, how he behaved nothing like the kids in her class, and yet, something told her he was kinder than he seemed.

She stared out her window as she daydreamed about what he was like. Suddenly, a bird flew by.

Oiseau, she thought, that’s what I’ll call you.

Each night, the Eurasian girl would look on as Oiseau had his katana (as she came to learn it was called) practically glued to his side. He was always either fighting someone much older than him in the same dark garb he had always worn, and later in a bright suit where he battled under the cover of the dark.

At some point, her dreams of him had shifted. He was surrounded by new bodies who seemed much less hostile, yet the black-haired boy seemed lost, and so very alone. Sometimes, she would wake up from her visions and weep for her soulmate, who despite his clear shortcomings was just doing what he could to make those around him proud.

As her visions of him changed, so did her own life. She began to take the designs she drew on paper and turn them into real clothes. She made new friends and began to stand up for herself and others. Most importantly, Marinette became the heroine Ladybug. Though unconfident at first, she eventually came into her own. Being Ladybug taught her that there are many reasons people fight; not all are malicious. Many a time she wondered if her soulmate was like her, fighting in a war they had never wanted to be a part of, but had to for the betterment of those around them.

At the age of 18, she, Chat Noir, along with the help of Queen Bee, Rena Rouge, Carapace, Viperion, and Ryuko ended Hawkmoth’s reign of terror once and for all.

When the villain was revealed as Gabriel Agreste, the whole team was shocked, though none more than Chat Noir. When the older man explained was after the miraculous, Ladybug chose to heal the ailing Mrs. Agreste. After careful consideration, the team agreed to absolve Gabriel of his crimes so long as he put his efforts into charitable works for the community.

Throughout the years, Marinette watched as her friends met their soulmates and received their marks. Many of her classmates had ended up with each other. Juleka and Rose who met when they were 9, and Kim and Max who met when they were 10. At 13, she watched as Nino found his soulmate in Alya on the first day of school. It was amazing watching the two begin to glow as the beautiful portrait of a fox wrapped around a turtle appeared on their right forearms.

Later down the line, Adrien found his soulmate in Juleka’s brother Luka, and even Chloe, who had been nicer in recent years, met her soulmate, who turned out to be the renowned fencer Tsurugi Kagami.

The blue-eyed girl was deeply saddened by not having yet her soulmate. Even when Tikki reassured her that they would meet, she couldn’t help but feel left out as all her friends and teammates found their other half.

That was when the girl decided it was time for a change of scenery. She couldn’t spend all her life waiting around for a soulmate who may never get to meet. Thus, Marinette packed her bags and the Miracle Box to head somewhere she could make herself useful. After careful research and planning, Marinette and the kwami decided on the place that could use a little balancing.

After a day of settling into the Gotham hotel, the Parisian native was feeling insanely restless. The kwami had been right when they said this city needed help. She could feel the destruction pressing down on her since she got off the plane. Being stuck inside the hotel room as she planned her next course of action was becoming suffocating.

Just when Marinette felt ready to scream, Tikki suggested she go for a walk in the nearby park to be around a bit more creation energy. The young designer jumped at the chance to get outside and threw on a baby pink sundress and her purse with Tikki tucked safely inside, before practically racing out the door.

The park by the hotel seemed more full of life than anywhere else in Gotham. The sign posted at the entrance made mention that the area was cared for by Poison Ivy herself. Marinette supposed it made sense that the woman’s domain would have lots of plant life.

Suddenly, a dog’s bark snapped the ladybug heroine out of her thoughts. She whipped her head around to see a Great Dane bounding towards her. She bent down as he sniffed her legs and began petting his head softly. “Titus!” she heard someone call. She looked up to see a man jogging towards her and the dog.

“Titus, huh,” she smiled to herself as she glanced back at the dog.

“I apologize, miss,” he said, lowering himself to be at her and Titus’ level. He placed his hand on the dog’s head, bumping her own slightly. “He usually doesn’t go running off towards strangers…” Marinette could feel his gaze on her as he trailed off. She turned her head towards him. Blue met green, and almost instantly her eyes widened. She knew that face. It was the face of her oiseau. The one she had been seeing since she was 8 years old. It was like the fog had been lifted in her mind, and the faceless boy who once filled her dreams was now able to be remembered in striking detail.

Taking a moment to center herself, the Eurasian girl took note of the man in front of her. He was quite handsome. She had always thought his looks charming (from what she was able to recall anyway), but now, really seeing him for the first time, was a completely different experience. His black hair was swept back as it always had been, and his skin was the same tan shade. Now, however, she could see the sharpness of his nose, the slight dimple next to his mouth, and his deep green eyes that seemed to hold more secrets than even she, who had seen part of his memories, may ever know.

“Miss?” the boy called, pulling her from her thoughts once again.

“Yes?”

He gestured down at the backs of their hands as they rested on the dog. There sat matching images of a robin flying after a ladybug.

She from the marks to him in shock. “It would appear that we are soulmates,” he said plainly as he stood back up from the ground.

Marinette stood as well and tried to gather herself. “It appears so,” she responded with a nervous smile.

“I’m Marinette,” she held her hand out for him to shake it.

After a moment’s hesitation, he took it. “My name is Damian.”

“Well, Damian,” she smiled brightly at him. “would you like to go on a walk and get to know each other?”

He gave her a soft look back. “I certainly would.”

#Maribat #soulmarks #soulmate dreams #soulmate marks #soulmate au #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #background relationships #Valentine's Day fic exchange

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 3 years ago

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Hi Dear Jalebi, I demand your analysis :) What are your thoughts on IPKKND might have some typical track if the audience, TRP, actors departure didn't influence it otherwise? Let me explain, IPKKND was supposed to have a longer office track (that wasn't common though, I would've loved it) but the TRP was low, so Shantivan track was introduced. Then, I read that, Sana Maqbul (Lavanya) wanted to quit IPKKND, that's why the quick breakup???

Is that why they didn't give us the COMMON AF *jealousy and hero's ex GF turns villain* track? Then again, Anjali was jealous and sad about Khushi after the first reveal of Shyam, and it looked like track about Didi Ki Saut was beginning. But again ratings dropped and the fandom didn't react well (kinda protested), Anjali quickly stopped showing jealousy and Dadi was introduced to give ArShi a common saas-bahu vibe.

Hello Dear Analysis Anon!

I am going to over answer this with a lot of detail because I have a lot of thoughts, as always! Time to get into my thinking cape/coat:

This analysis is going to cover:

(1) every example you just mentioned,

(2) my thoughts on external things affecting plot of the story,

(3) things/plots/ tracks that could've been if not for external factors

Examples

1) IPKKND was supposed to have a longer office track (that wasn't common though, I would've loved it) but the TRP was low, so Shantivan track was introduced

As far as I can remember from one of the writers' interviews, the office track was cut short because this was a show on Star Plus - which, as a channel, caters to 'family audience' therefore needs to have sanskaar and stuff at its core. Hence the rude shortening of the office track and weird 'makeover' and 'desi-dying' Lavanya. And hence we had a very weird four months of an eighteen-twenty years old Khushi teaching someone about sanskaars and suddenly knowing everything about a household when Bua-ji or even Payal would've been a more apt choice for this 'tutoring'.

If this was a Star One show, they might've not shifted out of the office for the longest time!

2) Sana Maqbul (Lavanya) wanted to quit IPKKND, that's why the quick breakup??? Is that why they didn't give us the COMMON AF *jealousy and hero's ex GF turns villain* track?

I did not know that's why the quick end happened. Honestly that happened perfectly. I think Lavanya had an inkling about their relationship heading south right when Arnav told everyone he's getting engaged to her. But she chooses to not see it until one day she couldn't. Maybe we could've gotten more from La but if you see carefully, La clearly knows that this relationship is now just for face. Bless her heart for trying though, trying with a smile!

Also, again I think the writers never thought of making Lavanya a vamp. They had enough material with Arnav-Khushi's own differences, Shyam and Buaji playing enough roles to mess up Arnav-Khushi's love story. I probably think they always had planned Lavanya as a beautiful person who was unintentionally caught in all of this. I feel they planned La and Khushi's friendship - they clearly enjoyed writing two completely different people becoming closest of friends.

The writers/creators deserve full credit for this.

3) Then again, Anjali was jealous and sad about Khushi after the first reveal of Shyam, and it looked like track about Didi Ki Saut was beginning. But again ratings dropped and the fandom didn't react well (kinda protested), Anjali quickly stopped showing jealousy and Dadi was introduced to give ArShi a common saas-bahu vibe.

This is all true.

My Thoughts on External Things Affecting Plot

It's not necessarily bad that external things affect plot. Feedback, from channel or fans, can help the show to pivot and understand what is working and what's not. The problem is when feedback is implemented regardless whether or not it matches the theme of the plot.

I loved:

1) The channel moving out of the office because the power dynamic was too great and the contract terms were very unhealthy and Arnav Singh Raizada deserved to get sued at least 10 times by the end of this contract so yes, the shorter the office track the better. Literally the saving grace is they didn't "fall in love" there.

2) The fans protesting against Didi Ki Saut track. Not because I hated the track - I think it was executed in the worst manner! From identical visual languages to show Arnav-Anjali and Arnav-Khushi scenes (which didn't work to show Arnav being equally torn between the two most important women in his life, but just made the audience get creeped by Arnav-Anjali's relationship) and writing scenes of Anjali getting offended by Arnav-Khushi's intimacy/Arnav spending time with his wife, on her birthday, in his bedroom... did she expect Khushi would just *disappear* in a her and Arnav's bedroom? Like that was the worst way to show a compelling plot line and giving people some weird thoughts about Anjali-Arnav (which I hate because I LOVE Anjali-Arnav).

3) Barun walking out when the plot was literally done. Yes, thank you!

4) Barun going to do a movie led to the kidnapping track, which I liked a lot. No, not the nonsense of Manorama Bond fishing out Delhi's security camera footages in vintage recording system - but the fact that given the chasm and angst between Arnav & Khushi, only something bigger than their misunderstanding could force Arnav to give weight to his feelings and for Khushi to be able to forgive him. And his life was at stake. It was a sharp reminder to both of them that they lost so much by not communicating that it doesn't matter what they had to say - they loved each other, they just needed to get back and fight off everything together.

And then again, there are things I HATED that happened because of external factors:

1) The channel for the whole La becomes Desi. And the overdose of sanskaar and tradition that followed for a few months *uggggh* Clearly the channel demanded this from the plot because family, traditions and all are important to Star Plus (wtf are they thinking for Ghum Hai Kisi Ke? though or YRKKH?) And even the Aarav track and Mrs. India - two tracks with terrible execution - were very Star Plus recommended content. Just now Saath Nibhana Saathiya 2 had a Mrs. Surat/Gujarat track and Yeh Hai Chaahatein had a miracle child popping up...

2) The fans demanding Arnav & Khushi's proximity. The whole hut scene was *noooooo*. Lack of consent, body doubles, GLARING logical loopholes and them just trying to do it when one of them is really not in the mood and they were both so out of character. @phati-sari explains this really well in her post (just search for the hut to get all relevant posts on her blog)

3) Barun? Not exactly - he's never in control of the plot so really it's the writers that kinda know what to do with his presence and absence. Even if they get a short time, it's upto the creators who know if they use the last 2-3 weeks for stretching a random track as much as they can and give a rushed ending or quickly wrap up a crap track and give a satisfactory ending. A good example of this is Lavanya's exit - although rushed was dealt with grace, important conversations and memorable hugs. Bad one is the end of the show - I know Barun gave his papers but I wish they went the La way with the end of the show - important convos, teary hugs and a sweet moment (they tried their best tho...)

It's an ITV trend though to not plan for the end of a show... they stretch a crappy track as much as they can and have like a 2 min epilogue. Kasautii 2.0 was the funniest cause they had all misconceptions cleared, Komolika and Mr. Bajaj die and then have a weird 2 min pillow fight to show 'happy family'... guess in that way I'm glad we had whatever we did with IPKKND!

Possible Tracks Then

So if external factors didn't influence the show, we might have had the following:

1) A longer office track. It would end the way it did in canon though. I think it was prewritten that at one point Khushi would tear up the contract and hold him accountable for everything Arnav did. Just instead of 3-4 days it would've been 10-15 days after the contract.

2) Didi Ki Saut track. Honestly that was compelling if executed right. Sometimes you can have an antagonist without becoming a villain, Anjali the perfect character for that.

3) A separation track. I'm pretty sure Arnav-Khushi could have separated at some point in their six months marriage - this is just my inkling and not something I heard in an interview unlike the above two. If given full reign to writing, we probably would've gotten an angst heavy stuff at some point post marriage/6 months.

4) A remarriage track sans Dadi. We know why Dadi was introduced (honestly I didn't mind her, it was a track done well and kinda to redeem Arnav in front of the public eyes. It's a perfect track cause Arnav is 'nice' for standing up for her and kinda heals the wounds he caused in the first few months of the marriage by retorting someone who tells Khushi everything he told her...) But anyway I do think a remarriage was in the works, not because of TRPs but the way their whole 'marriage' was framed and how Khushi was broken because of the lack of everything in it. And they deserved one w/o the devastation that night brought.

5) The 'marriage' would've been a live in. Arnav and Khushi's elopement was supposed to be darker in nature*. Their 'marriage' would've had no religious nor legal validity, therefore a stark contradiction to everything Khushi stood for... but you can't have that in ITV. *By dark I don't mean sexual violence - never.*

6) The whole IPKKND was meant to be darker. I am glad for the romantic comedy though! I think their balance of angst and comedy pre marriage was perfect! Not sure post marriage because it felt like a loop of going back to square one with no progress. But I think things were meant to be less subtle, more tragic and dramatized. So I think we could've gotten extremely angsty periods post marriage with a slow, gentle lull to the romance/comedy. While I am extremely glad for the lightheartedness, I wish I could've read what the whole original concept for Arnav/Khushi was!

7) Arnav revealing the truth to Khushi would've been different. We know the distasteful suicide track quickly came as a way to push Arnav's buttons and have him confess the truth of his elopement to Khushi. And that came from Barun going away - hence the quick kidnapping track and everything. So if Barun didn't go away, I honestly don't know how the revelation would happen. Would Arnav start piecing things together from information and things about Shyam in Laxminagar? Would Arnav end up helping and hospitalizing Shashi who would tell him the truth? Would Arnav come across any hidden wedding card Buaji could've had printed for Shyam-Khushi or even Shyam's fake kundili? Given the Gupta house wasn't the place where Shyam covered his tracks... was this where Arnav would start seeing things? Or guilt ridden, would Garima/Khushi/Madhumati tell Arnav the truth? Something was meant to happen for this revelation, whether it's Arnav believing Khushi or just getting further evidence against her - I... don't know! I wish I knew what the writers had in store.

We highly appreciate for not showing a typical Nanand against Bhaabi trope, also for not making La villain, but would it result differently if things didn't have a hand? Imma cry thinking Anjali jealous and La villain! meh! What a feast for the eyes it was to see ONLY ONE VILLAIN and less negativity in a tellywood show. Baas bohut hua my casual verbiage. By demand I mean no pressure, please take your valuable time and reply whenever you feel like it.Take Loads of Care and Chocolates your way <3

I hope the above answered all your queries :) Thank you for all the chocolates and care!!!

Phew this was rather long! A big hug to anyone who went through it! See ya later!

- Jalebi

#ask #analysis anon #THIS IS LONG #so many thoughts #how arnav khushi's confrontation would've been #the only answer I crave #analysis #ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon

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theasstour · 4 years ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟒𝐊 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE 🐚🌊✨ Lightkeeper!Harry is here and I’m BEYOND excited to show you lot this concept I’ve been thinking about quite literally everyday for MONTHS now! I love this story with my entire heart, and I really hope it resonates with some of you and that you fall completely in love with lightkeeper!harry and ST like I have 🥺 Love you! Enjoy! x

Thursday, 11 June

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give it back to her in some other form. However, that didn’t mean that when something dreadful did happen it wouldn’t affect her, and she wouldn’t feel hopeless. Because she did. Very much so.

Most of her life she had lived in a constant state of harmony. She was neither displeased nor satisfied with the life she was leading because it kept her out of trouble; it kept her safe. Her entire life she had lived in peace in Winchester, a fairly prissy town in the middle of Hampshire county in England. Her father owned a business of sorts, Y/N had never gotten the details of it or how he’d gotten where he was, but all she knew was he inherited it from his father and it was expected to be handed down generation after generation in the McKay family. However, Y/N was an only child and neither her mum nor her dad thought she’d be fit to run the business when the time came.

“Nothing personal, darling,” her mother had said when it was brought up during a dinner when Y/N was still in sixth form. “You just don’t have the brains for it.”

“What your mother means to say,” Y/N’s father went on. “You’re so intelligent in your own way, running the business won’t make you happy.”

They always called it that. The business. They never told her what it was about or explained when she asked questions about it. Not that she expected her dad to be a drug lord, but it would’ve been nice to be let in on something. It would’ve been nice to be given the opportunity to feel of enough importance to someone to know special things.

Y/N looked out the window of the train, the Cornish coast stretching out as far as the eye could see, the sun not yet hanging high enough on the sky to make it dreadful to walk outside in her black oversized smock dress. The book in her lap was still open, though she’d read the same page over and over and over again, not being able to concentrate for long enough to remember what happened at the top of the piece of paper. Everything was fuzzy and she had too much to think about; too much to consider.

The last 24 hours had been the worst of her life. Yesterday had turned everything upside down and she hated it. However, thinking the universe would balance itself out and work in her favour, she was also aware that the reason her life needed help to be smoothed out by higher powers in the first place, was because it was in imbalance. Something was off. Something had thrown it off. But she forced herself to stay hopeful, knowing that if she lost that little flicker of hope in what seemed like an endless night, it’d be next to impossible to find her way back to peacefulness.

She glanced down at the book in her lap and was about to start reading again, not liking it when she had to put the book away in the middle of a chapter. She wasn’t given the opportunity as the overhead speakers sounded their soft alarm, and next second, a woman was speaking.

“Next stop is St Ives. Doors will open on the right-hand side.”

The nerves Y/N had felt in the pit of her stomach came back again, this time with more intensity than the last few. Though she realised what she was doing that morning when she boarded her train for Reading, and then again when she stepped on the train for St Erth, and yet again when she sat down on the train towards St Ives, this time it felt worse than all those times before. This was it. She was here.

She had no idea why she chose St Ives out of all places in Cornwall – in the world even –, why here of all places? Even years later, she could never seem to remember the exact moment when she chose that coastal town, or why it had appealed to her at all. Maybe it was the fact that it had a beach, or that it wasn’t particularly populated, or that there was no way anyone she had ever known would be there. The most important part however, and maybe the only reason why she chose St Ives, was because it was far away from Winchester. It was far away from her family, from her ex, and everything she associated with that town and everyone living in it.

She put The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall away in her purse, slinging her purse over her head to rest across her chest before she reached up and took her old leather bag down from the overhead compartment. This was the only one she would risk bringing as it used to be her father’s back in the day, but he never used it anymore and wouldn’t suspect it being gone. Placing the strap on her shoulder, she walked off to the closest door, apologising when she jabbed someone with her bag on the way out.

Stepping off, Y/N instantly regretted wearing a long-sleeved dress. Though she was under the protection of the roof above the platform, the heat was still almost insufferable. It got her wondering if this was just a normal day in the very South of England or if it was an exceptionally hot one. She prayed for the latter.

She walked out of the station, staying in the cool shade for a few minutes longer as she typed in the address of the inn she was staying at. Not really knowing how public transit worked here yet, she didn’t want to risk taking the wrong bus or asking a tourist for directions to a place they’d never heard of. Instead, she put her EarPods in and went on her merry way. The second she stepped out into the sun, she was once again reminded of why she’d never wear that black dress again that summer.

The Roaming Crab Inn was on The Terrace, the road along the coast of St Ives, holding dozens of hotels and other places to stay during a visit. Y/N didn’t know why she’d chosen this exact inn, or how she’d even happened upon it. It might’ve had something to do with the picture of the old lady grinning from ear to ear on the inn’s website. A picture that was so lovely and so warm that, in the midst of everything Y/N was going through right then, it made her tear up.

She stepped into the inn, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head, and made sure her hair looked alright before walking a bit further inside. Cherry wooden panels lined the floors, walls, and ceiling, a reception desk in the same style attached to the wall to the right. Pictures of all kinds of people hung on the walls. Y/N suspected it might be locals as well as dear guests who had come and gone over the years. No lights were on as the sharp afternoon sun was sufficient in keeping the lobby just bright enough o that electricity wasn’t needed. Fake green vines hung along the ceiling and walls, as well as from different pots on the fireplace to the right that didn’t seem to be in use. Still, two old recliners stood beside it, tempting to sit down and drown in, to escape a turbulent life.

To the left was a staircase leading up to the other landings, and though Y/N hadn’t stepped foot on it yet, she already knew it creaked. This entire house seemed more like a cottage you’d find in the middle of the country, not on the coast of South England. She slowly started making her way over to the reception, and that was when she noticed the back door. Behind the desk was an old, white windowed door, a little smaller in height but a little wider in breadth than normal doors – like the entrance. It was open, leading the way out into a back garden that seemed to be both small and surrounded by the neighbouring houses on all sides. The wooden fence was covered in vines, flowers of all kinds poking out amongst them and on the ground around. The stone paved patio seemed to be old and uneven, there was a set of bistro metal chairs in all the colours of the rainbow along with a white table to match them.

A gang of old ladies sat around the table, chattering amongst themselves and occasionally laughing, all holding a different knitting project each. Y/N hated the thought of disturbing them, but she also just wanted to check in and go up to her room; maybe even go for a walk to take a look around the place she’d be in for the next few weeks.

She reached for the bell, hitting it lightly as to not make it sound urgent and intrusive. A small yelp was heard from the back garden and then the sound of the metal chair scraping against the stone patio. As she heard the footsteps get closer, Y/N glanced around, taking in the interior of the inn undisturbed one more. As someone appeared in the doorway and their eyes met, the old lady who stood there gave Y/N that warm smile of hers she’d seen online the night before.

“Hello, dear!” she chirped, placing her glasses on the bridge of her nose and walking over to the computer on her side of the desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you. And yourself?”

The old lady smiled, her eyes almost disappearing behind her high cheekbones. Her long white hair was fastened in a bun at the back of her head, the rest of her dressed in a pair of white trousers and a tunic with some bird print on it.

“I’m wonderful. What’s your name then, lovely?”

“Y/N McKay.”

“Ahh,” she said. “You’re the one who booked your stay last night.”

“That’s me, yeah,” Y/N chuckled, brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Till August 10th.”

“Yes.”

“Right then, Y/N,” the lady said, taking a key hanging from the wall beside her and taking her glasses off, smiling the entire time. “Let me show you to your room.”

The two walked up to the second floor, taking a right as they arrived and the inn-keeper unlocked the door. The innkeeper kept the door open for Y/N, letting her walk in first. Though the floor and ceiling were similar to the wooden panels of the lobby, the walls were white. Against the same wall that the door came to rest against stood an old blue dresser, and a fake flower in an elegant vase that seemed to be just one of the many flowers in the room. The double bed stood to the far left wall, white sheets covering it and looking so lush that it took everything in Y/N not to sprint over and throw herself onto it. There was a desk as well as a recliner, and a window on the opposite wall overlooking the ocean that was just about a minute’s walk from here.

“The bathroom is over there,” the innkeeper said, pointing at a door beside the staircase. “You share it with the other guests on the same floor as you, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Y/N admitted, genuinely meaning it as well. She didn’t see the problem with that in the least.

“I’m mostly downstairs or in the next house over, which is mine,” she continued. “So if there’s ever anything you think I could help you with, do pop by.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she suddenly exclaimed, walking over to Y/N. “I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Bessie.” Bessie smiled at Y/N again, making the latter almost want to cry for the umpteenth time that day. “And I really hope you enjoy your stay here in St Ives.”

With that, the innkeeper left Y/N to herself. Y/N let her bag and purse fall to the floor before she dragged the chair by the desk over to the window. She opened it and just stared out across the beach and sea outside. Seagulls were howling overhead, waves were crashing against shore, and the familiar salty scent of the presence of the ocean lingered in the air constantly. It was like one of those trips she’d taken with her parents every summer, a new place every year, always by the coast. Her favourite might’ve been their vacation in Bali. It was gorgeous beyond comprehension, in a way no other place she’d ever been could come close to. But she was aware she’d never go on another trip with her parents again. Not after everything that happened the night before.

Now she couldn’t rely on them any longer. She was on her own. She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea what lay ahead of her. As she at on the chair looking out over St Ives, the town she’d spend her summer in, she realised she’d never felt more forlorn.

St Ives is a coastal town located in the very south-west of the southernmost county in England, Cornwall. It is known for its surf beaches – most well-known being Porthmeor – and its many art galleries and restaurants. Tate St Ives is a gallery at the seafront and has rotating modern art exhibitions, focusing primarily on British artists. The Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden is located in the modernist artist’s former studio, displaying her bronzes and other works.Y/N, having grown up in a fairly posh family with exquisite and particular taste, knew a thing or two about art.

She always had her purse on her, and in it she’d keep all the essentials for going out and about. Hand sanitiser, Kleenex, band-aids, pads, keys, a portable charger, and the book she was currently reading. The Well of Loneliness lay in her purse as she strolled around, a St Ives guide book in her hand that she’d bought at one of the local stores on what must’ve been their high street.

First and foremost, she wanted to do some sightseeing. She’d be here for a long time, so she might as well get acquainted with the town she’d stay in and learn its ins and outs. There is this part of St Ives called The Island, that isn’t at all an island, but it is just called that. The Island is the imposing headland that juts out into the seat from the spit of land that separates the harbour and Porthmeor beach – the most popular and most central beach in the town. In ancient times it was a promontory fort, but these days it’s probably better known as a location of the tiny chapel of St Nicholas. Walking to The Island, Y/N took in the incredible views of the ocean surrounding her, and the beach – The Townas - beside her that was cramped between The Island and Godrevy Point on the other side.

To her left was what looked to be Hellesveor Cliff, and at the very point of it, on the top of what must’ve been the most haunting cliff Y/N had ever seen, stood a lighthouse. Looking in her guide book, it didn’t say much about the lighthouse except the care of it had been passed down generation after generation by the family currently living there. It was at the very edge of St Ives, farther out than Godrevy Point. It made it so Porthmeor, St Ives, and The Townas were all guarded by these two points, the St Ives Lighthouse watching over its town and the far coast around.

Continuing on her walk, she strolled down the Down-a-long, which is the old, lower part of St Ives built on the narrow ridge of land that separated The Island to the rest of the town. This part of town is the archetypal image of St Ives with its jumble of cobble streets lined with whitewashed, old cottages, some seeming to fall apart and others in better condition. Y/N thought the street names were equally evocative and unique, some of her favourites being Salubrious Place, Teetotal Street, and The Digney. Though it said in her catalogue that fishermen used to live in the Down-a-long before, next to none lived there now as most of it was occupied by galleries, cafes, and little shows that one can shake a stick at. As she strolled through Fore Street, the main shopping street in St Ives, she walked by a vintage shop – Vintage Divine – and jotted it down on her phone.

All her life, Y/N had always loved everything vintage. She liked the thought of owning something that had once been part of someone else’s life, that had made them happy enough they wanted to hand it on and give someone else that same happiness they’d experienced. Though neither her mum, her dad, or her ex-boyfriend liked her obsession with vintage and stuff owned by others before her, their disinterest had never stopped her from going to markets or stores. However, she never bought anything unless she knew she could hide it. Now, she thought, that didn’t have to be a problem.

A few years back when she started to realise her obsession with old stuff, furniture, clothing, and books owned by others before her, she read an article online. The article had suggested that people are attracted to vintage pieces because they offer an escape. Wearing these garments, holding these ornaments, touching furniture from another time is a way to experience a different life. A life that isn’t your own and that was lived before hers or parallel to hers. Shopping vintage then created an exciting search for something special and creative, something a normal shopping trip could never give her. It was weird how much she was looking forward to going through that shop, Y/N realised, but she couldn’t wait to explore and take items home with her. Not that she expected she’d be welcomed home to Winchester anytime soon, but she chose not to think about that too much.

Fore Street was a narrow and cobblestone-clad street with people milling about trying to find a decent place for lunch. Stone cottages lined both sides of the street, either a neutral colour like white, a dull yellow, beige, light blue, or just plain, grey stone. Y/N enjoyed walking among these houses. It was a quiet town, peace seemed to be permanently settled between the cramped streets and tiny houses. Though Winchester wasn’t London with its tall buildings and never-ending bustle, St Ives was even smaller than her hometown, which made it that much more appealing to her. There was a sense of relaxation in the mere atmosphere around her that massaged the tension out of her shoulders and straightened her hunched back.

The door to the Seafood Café she was about to walk by burst open. A couple of people standing around jumped at the commotion, as did Y/N. Dressed in high-waisted loose fitted denim jeans, a white tee shirt tucked into them, a pair of orange worn down Vans, and brown curls in a dishevelled mess, the man who caused the ruckus didn’t seem to notice everyone’s attention being on him. He halted a bit as he came outside before he walked left. Y/N stopped moving, the sudden interruption in her peaceful stroll taking her off guard. The man suddenly started straight for Y/N, his head bent, eyes on the cobblestone before him. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going, not looking up in the direction he was heading. So, when he saw Y/N’s shadow, that’s when he glanced up. Their eyes met just a second before he managed to stop, preventing them from crashing into one another.

“Oh!” he erupted, voice crescendoing. He blinked twice, eyes settling on her for a few seconds before he said a quick, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I should’ve moved out of the way,” Y/N assured him, about to step to the side when she noticed his lips moving again. No words came out, though. She stood there for a few seconds, just watching his jaw and lips work, not seeming to find his words.

“Have a good day,” she went on, trying to step out of the way when the man blurted out, “Please, miss.”

She looked at him again, about to narrow her eyes when she saw a troubled expression on his face. His eyes were a little wide and he glanced over his shoulder before meeting her eyes again. The door to Seafood Café opened again, a woman and a younger girl stepping out.

“Please,” he repeated, voice low. “Go along.”

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll owe you my entire life if you just play along for a minute or two, yeah?”

She cocked her head some to the side. “I don’t know what you mean, sir. I should-“

“-I don’t usually do this- I mean, I never do, I’ve never done this before – ever -, but-but they think I have a girlfriend and I don’t. Please-“

“-Harry!”

The man – who Y/N could only assume to be Harry - turned around to face a tiny Filipina woman and an even smaller girl beside her, who looked to be no older than ten. The two looked Y/N over, eyes scanning her from head to toe. Y/N felt like she was under a magnifying glass.

But while they took her in, Y/N’s thoughts wandered to the words the man beside her had said only a few seconds earlier. “They think I have a girlfriend and I don’t.” Was he… was he saying what Y/N thought he was saying? She glanced at him, seeing him draw a shaky breath and meet her eyes, waiting for her to make the next move it seemed. Everything that had happened in the last minute confused her. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know what he’d told these two women or why. She was also well aware that by just walking away she wouldn’t need to worry about him any longer; his problems weren’t hers. This seemed messy, confusing, and a little risky.

Usually, she wouldn’t want any part of it. The Y/N she was yesterday wouldn’t have considered this. She would’ve looked at the man apologetically before excusing herself and walking off, leaving him to figure out whatever lie he’d told these two on his own. But Y/N had changed. Or… at least that’s what she wanted to believe… Fine, she wanted to change, and maybe this was a place to start.

Harry sighed, turning around to face the two he had tried to get away from, shoulders sinking as he met their eyes. The defeat was evident in his body language; he was about to give up and just tell them that he didn’t have a girlfriend. That’s what finally did it, seeing how it took absolutely everything out of him to tell them the following. “Jasmine, I’m sorry, I need to tell you-“

“-It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N interrupted him, smiling as she stepped out from behind Harry. Though she had seriously considered helping him, it still surprised her when she actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. Her heart was beating about as fast as it had that morning when she’d left Hampshire.

Harry looked at her, mouth falling open, obviously shocked by her willingness to help him. It took him a few seconds to gather himself, but once he did, he looked back at the two they were trying to convince with a bright smile on his face.

“What did you have to tell me, Harry?” the older woman asked.

“That, uhh…” He looked at Y/N again before glancing at who she could only assume to be Jasmine. “Jessa, this is my girlfriend.”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows, eyes lighting up suddenly. The girl beside her stood there fidgeting with the hem of her top, looking Y/N up and down still.

“Hi,” Y/N said, stepping forward and reaching her hand out for Jasmine. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Jasmine said, a smile coming to rest on her round face as they let go of the others’ hand. “Harry, you said her name was unusual.”

“That… I-“ Harry stopped himself.

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure how to react to that.

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell us her name, since it was so unusual. Y/N isn’t unusual.”

Y/N chuckled a little, looking at Harry whose whole face was a shade of red she’d never seen before. He glanced around him, meeting her gaze before quickly looking to the ground, scratching at his neck.

“You thought my name was weird?” She was well aware Harry hadn’t known her name until that point, let alone had any time to form an opinion on it. But regardless, she found it funny how he’d refused to give them his pretend girlfriend’s name by telling them it was an unusual one, as if they’d laugh at it.

“I didn’t-“ Harry sighed. “It wasn’t like I was embarrassed I just…” He trailed off, motioning with his hands, but Y/N had no idea what that meant. She didn’t take it to heart, though, knowing it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his cover-up story.

“He has such a way with words,” Jasmine said, clicking her tongue at him. “Anyway, I’m Jasmine, but just call me Jessa. Harry’s stepmother.”

“And I’m Grace.” The little one stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. The small one had the same roundness to her face as the woman beside her, as well as the same flat nose and almond shaped eyes like Jessa’s. “Harry’s kept you a secret.”

“Gracie, I haven’t kept her a secret as much as I’ve kept her away,” Harry said. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“We won’t scare her!” Jessa exclaimed. “It’s your girlfriend, Harry! We will be nice.”

“Somehow doubt that.” Harry turned to Y/N, turning his back to his step mum and what must be his half-sister. “They like to interrogate, especially Jasmine.”

“You villainise us,” Jessa said, walking closer to them and taking Y/N’s hand between hers. It took her off guard and she almost pulled her hand away, the feel of someone’s skin voluntarily touching hers felt weird.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Harry continued, ignoring Jessa. There was an apology in his eyes that he didn’t voice. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought she saw anyway. “They’ll make it hard to enjoy yourself.”

Jessa reached over and pinched Harry’s exposed forearm. He flinched away from her, glaring as he stepped back a few paces.

“Now you’re being rude.”

“I don’t want you lot to make her uncomfortable with all your questions,” Harry said, a frown etched in his forehead. He hadn’t met Y/N’s eyes directly ever since they almost walked into one another. “Besides, she’s…” Harry’s eyes fell to the guide in Y/N’s hand. “She’s sightseeing.”

Y/N smiled at Jessa and Grace, showing them the small book she was carrying with her. “I’ve just been to the Island. The view from there is fantastic.”

“Harry, the view from the Island is nothing. Have you shown her yet?”

“Jessa, it’s… she’s just…”

Finally, he looked at her, not knowing what to say that would make his stepmother give it a rest. Y/N could understand why she asked so many questions, she was just eager to get to know someone who she thought was Harry’s new partner.

“I arrived this morning,” Y/N answered, smiling at Jasmine. “We haven’t had the time to meet up properly, so in the meantime I’ve just been walking around.”

“Where’s your luggage?”

“At the Inn. The Roaming Crab.”

Jessa’s eyes went wide, looking at Harry disapprovingly again. “She’s not even staying with you? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“She could stay at our house,” Grace said, eyes on the space that separated Y/N and Harry before she met Y/N’s eyes.

“It’s not that… It’s not like that, I-“ Harry stopped himself, dragging his hand over his face that had been bright red ever since this whole spectacle started. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I?” Jessa crossed her arms.

“Yes… I-“ Harry stuttered and though Y/N hadn’t known this man for very long, she could tell he found it hard to find his words in stressful situations.

“We didn’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for a long period of time before, this would be the first, so I’m staying at the Inn so we won’t get tired of each other too quickly.” Y/N hoped she sounded confident and truthful; she wouldn’t want to blow this for Harry already. After all, she had no idea how long he’d need this pretend girlfriend lie for.

A frown appeared between Jasmine’s brows and it dawned on Y/N that she must’ve said something wrong just now. Panic rose to her chest, but Harry cleared his throat.

“Except for that trip to Exeter last month, but that was only a single weekend. Now she’s here for…” He narrowed his eyes, as if the answer was at the tip of his tongue but Y/N knew she was the only one with an answer to that.

“August 12th,” she said, Jessa letting go of a small squeal at the sound of it. “Dunno how many weeks that’ll be, but I’m-“

“-That’s fantastic! You need to come to Gracie’s birthday next weekend.”

Harry stuttered a little, Jessa’s enthusiasm making him nervous, Y/N thought. “Nanay-“

“-She’s going to love that, won’t you, Gracie?”

Grace nodded her head, grinning up at Y/N. “You can put pretty stuff on my eyelids.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some and Jessa laughed. “Eyeshadow.”

“Oh! Well, I don’t have loads of that since I’m no good with make-up, but I do have nice jewellery.” Y/N picked at the one she was wearing just then, a gold necklace she’d gotten for her birthday the year before.

Grace’s smile didn’t fade one bit at that. In fact, it only seemed to get a little bigger at the sight of Y/N’s pretty necklace. The girl didn’t say anything, but she swayed from side to side, looking excitedly up at her brother’s supposed new girlfriend.

“You’re coming then?” Jessa asked, looking so happy she might burst, and it hurt Y/N that she probably wouldn’t.

“Jessa, we have barely had time to catch up, let her breathe,” Harry pleaded and Jessa waved her hands at them.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you, Y/N. It’s just…” Jasmine’s eyes fell on Harry standing beside Y/N, her eyes glistening. “It’s just so nice to know Harry’s not alone anymore.”

��I’ve never been alone, nanay.”

Jessa shook her head, sighing heavily. “Alright, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. You’ll probably want some time to yourselves to just walk around. Has she been to the lighthouse, Harry? Take her there.”

Harry sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Nay-“

“-Fine, we’ll leave. It was so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Jessa. And you, Grace.”

Grace gave a wave before Jessa took her hand and the two walked away, probably on their way home or whatever other plans they had. Y/N watched them for a few before turning to Harry. His blush had calmed down a little, but a bead of sweat had appeared at his cupid’s bow. If it was because of nerves or the weather, she did not know, but she was not about to ask him that.

Upon closer inspection and now that they didn’t have Harry’s stepmum and sister watching over them, Y/N could finally study the man she rescued for a total of five minutes. Green eyes that reminded her of the moors she’d spend time running through each summer, a slight stubble along his soft jawline, nose a little too big for his face, and a slight dimple in each cheek even though he wasn’t smiling fully yet. She wondered what they’d look like if he actually grinned.

“Hi,” she said, reaching her hand out. “Y/N.”

Harry chuckled softly, taking her hand, eyes staying on the place they were touching each other. “Harry.”

“I’m glad I could be of some help, Harry.”

A crooked smile reached his lips as his eyes fell to the ground and he stepped away, letting his hand fall to hit his thigh. He glanced up at her. “Thank you for that. They say they’re worried, but they’re really just nosey.”

Y/N grimaced a little, making a breathy laugh escape Harry’s lips. “Is your life more interesting than theirs?”

“Not in the least. I lead the most boring existence in the most boring town in the United Kingdom.”

She chuckled, reaching for her necklace. “Not sure you can claim that title, my life’s pretty up there as well.”

Harry tried to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but the arms of his denim jacket wrapped around his waist were in the way. “Oh?”

“Blimey, I won’t keep you if you’ve got things to do. You look like a busy man.”

Harry stared at the watch on his wrist and bit his bottom lip, looking up at her through his thick set of dark eyelashes. “Yeah, I gotta be on my way actually.”

She gave him a smile, getting one in return.

“Listen, thank you so much for that. I just needed to get them off my back. You don’t actually have to come to Gracie’s birthday party, Jessa just loves when she gets to interrogate people. Her favourite sport is discussing gossip.”

Y/N laughed. “You burn a lot of calories doing that.”

Harry chuckled, scratching at his neck as his eyes fell to her neck and then shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t know how to repay you. If you’re here till August, I guess I’ll see you around.”

For some reason, Harry not really knowing what to say was funny to Y/N. It wasn’t like he owed her anything or the other way around. She’d just helped him out and now they could part ways. Easy as that.

“You don’t have to repay me, I’m glad I could help,” she smiled. “I’ll try and stay out of your way if I see you out and about. You know, to avoid the awkward conversation of telling them we’re not actually together.”

Harry’s lips tipped upward. “Right, thanks.”

“Now, since I’m talking to you,” she said, opening the catalogue again. “Where’s the Tate Gallery?”

Harry turned around, pointing up Fore Street from where they stood. “When you reach Bunkers Hill, you follow that all the way up to Back Road, then you just walk along The Digney and it’ll be on your right-hand side.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. I… It was too much-“

“-I’m serious when I say I’m glad I could help, don’t worry about it.” She shot him one last smile before giving him a wave. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye,” he said, giving her a short nod before she focused her attention back on her surroundings. She needed to catch the street names and get her walk to the Tate on the first try because she could really not be asked to walk back and whip her phone out. After all, Harry just helped her so it was going to be easy to just follow his navigation and get there.

As she strolled along the gallery and the rest of St Ives that day, she couldn’t help but think about that little encounter earlier. She wondered what happened after that, if Jessa and Grace demanded more information from Harry or if he told them how it was all a lie. Putting it all aside, she focused on her trip instead. She’d never meet that family again, but she really hoped everything worked out for them regardless. The last thing she needed was for this summer to be about anything but her and what she really wanted in life. She didn’t need distractions. Her whole life up until now had been a distraction.

Friday, 12 June

Being in south England and not taking advantage of the amazing beaches this part of the country offered, was maybe on the same wrongdoing scale as committing a serious crime. Y/N had gotten dressed that morning and headed straight downstairs to eat breakfast in the tiny dining hall of the Inn. It was positioned in what must’ve originally been the living room in the house, four tables placed in there with two chairs placed by each of them. The dining room had the same layout as the entrance to the Inn; wooden panels all over, flowers and plants everywhere along with pictures and candles to top it off.

When she walked downstairs, Bessie was quick to jump up from where she was sitting in her small back garden, meeting Y/N with a warm beam on her face. When Bessie asked Y/N if she’d like a meat, vegetarian, or vegan full English, Y/N startled herself by replying vegetarian. She hadn’t grown up vegetarian, but in all her life, she’d never had a purely vegetarian meal. So, instead of correcting herself, she let Bessie make her that vegetarian breakfast. The thought of eating something she hadn’t before didn’t make her anxious as she thought it would’ve, but she was rather excited about the whole thing.

Bessie came out with the tray, setting it down before Y/N and asked her if she would mind Bessie’s company. With a quick reply encouraging the old lady to sit down, Bessie ran – or walked as fast as her short legs could take her – outside and returned with her knitting. Y/N had been alone pretty much all day the day before nd she had anticipated being alone all day today as well, so she rather enjoyed Bessie’s company. She had never really envisioned this to be part of her trip to Cornwall – an old lady with her grey hair put neatly in a bun with two knitting needles holding it up, wearing a long bohemian dress and glasses perched on the end of her nose, talking her ear off and Y/N having an immense amount of fun in the process.

The sea and seagulls sounded from inside the Inn, but as Y/N put her bathing suit and summer dress on, on her way down towards the beach, the costal sounds only intensified. The salt in the air clung to her skin and the smell of seaweed got more prominent the closer she got to the ocean. She put her stuff down and brought The Well of Loneliness out again, wanting to finish the book that day because she really wanted to know how it all ended. She wasn’t sure how much time went by as she laid there, completely captivated by the world Radclyffe Hall had created within the book.

It wasn’t that Y/N particularly enjoyed the book. No, it wasn’t that. It was endlessly long and detailed, for absolutely no purpose. The writing wasn’t particularly memorable; one wouldn’t remember it for its evocative and imaginative characteristics, nor for Hall’s ability to tell instead of show. Over the years she’d studied English in college, Y/N knew that a writer should be able to balance those two out; show some, tell some. But that concept was lost on Hall. No, Y/N didn’t like The Well of Loneliness for its writing, not even the plot.

She liked the book because of the plea embedded in it. The plea for LGBT people to be treated as human; that they were normal and not a disease. Why did they have to be other? They didn’t choose this life so why were they to be punished for it by being treated differently? By being illegal? The Well of Loneliness was published around the same time Orlando by Virginia Woolf, who was one of Y/N’s favourite authors ever. Though these two books touched on similar themes of identity, where Orlando shrouded the issue of mysticism, The Well dared to discuss sexual identity openly. Y/N commended Radclyffe Hall for that.

However much Y/N sympathised with Hall and the main character, Stephen, she couldn’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy in the book. While it attempted to strive for acceptance of one minority, it also emanated an underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities at the same time, which made no sense to Y/N. Then again, it was the 1920s, so she guessed she couldn’t really ask for anything else from a rich white person at the time.

Having finally finished the book, Y/N asked someone nearby if they could watch her things while she took a dip. There was a blonde bloke around her age and another bloke with blue hair, sitting not too far off, and when she asked if they could keep an eye on her stuff, they promised they would.

Y/N took her time swimming, trying to remember the last time she’d been on a beach where the public were allowed. It was odd seeing so many around her, but she liked it. She liked the sound of others around her. Silence was good, but in the disturbance of human noise was the reassurance of rescue. The promise that you might be lonely, but you are never alone.

Walking back up to her picnic blanket, Y/N thanked the two men before lying back down, soaking up the sun. She hadn’t been aware she’d already been at the beach for a few hours until she realised her stomach was rumbling. So, packing her stuff together and making sure her hair was somewhat dry, she walked around to see if there were any places she could sit down. The only place on Porthminster Beach was the café with the same name, and by the looks of it, it was completely full. Since Bessie had served Y/N some breakfast, she must have something for lunch as well.

Walking back the 5 minute to the hotel, Bessie jumped up from her place in the back garden, sitting back there with two other ladies and knitting like they’d done the day before.

“Hello, dear, you had a good trip to the beach?”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel completely at ease in this old woman’s company. “Yes, I did. A bit hungry, though, do you have something I could eat, possibly?”

“Of course! What do you fancy?”

“Oh, a toastie’s fine.”

“Vegetarian?”

For some reason, the fact Bessie remembered Y/N’s preference from this morning made her smile. “Yes,” she said without thinking.

“Right, just sit down and I’ll come by with your lunch, my lovely.”

“Thank you so much, Bessie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Y/N sat down, bringing her phone out as she hadn’t checked it properly in a few hours. She wasn’t sure what she expected, to be fair. There was no one from home who would want to contact her, and if they were to, they would rather look around Winchester than call. In their minds, she couldn’t have run far. Regardless, the mere fact they hadn’t even called her made something inside her sink a little. It felt awful knowing how little she meant to them all along. So little that they wouldn’t even pick up the phone and save her a call or a text.

“Here, my dear,” Bessie said, putting down a tray before Y/N. “I’m gonna pop outside to my little knitting club, if that’s fine by you. Just come on out if you don’t have anything else to do after this, yeah?”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N said and Bessie smiled at her before she disappeared outside again.

Turning her attention to her food, Y/N started thinking about what she could do the rest of the day. She could walk some more around town, she’d seen bigger parts of it yesterday, but there were always corners of a town that needed discovering. Once she was about halfway through her toastie, hasty footsteps sounded from the lobby and a somewhat familiar figure appeared. He stopped a bit on his way towards the reception desk, as if he didn’t want to be a bother to Bessie of some kind by asking for assistance. Bessie appeared a few seconds later, grinning from ear to ear as usual.

“Hello, Harry love.”

“Hi, Bess. I…” he stopped himself, running his hands up and down the sides of his white and grey striped cotton-blend trousers, a navy blue tee shirt tucked into it and a pair of white Vans on his feet. “I just wanted to come check again.”

“For the third time.”

“Yeah, well…” He did a quick shrug. “I just wanted to check.”

“She’s here.” Bessie gestured to Harry’s right and when he looked that way, his eyes immediately found Y/N’s. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. However, a summer in a small coastal town would make that very hard. She’d try her hardest to stay out of Harry’s way, as well as his family’s, so she wouldn’t make things awkward. She would have escaped to a town a little further south or on the other side of Cornwall, but she was settled in now and she’d already paid for her whole stay.

Though she’d promised to keep away from him to prevent any unpleasant situations, Harry hadn’t made her the same promise. And here he was. For some reason. He seemed both taken off guard to see her sitting there as well as relieved he’d finally caught her. A sigh left him, slumping his tense shoulders a little before he thanked Bessie quickly and walked to Y/N.

“Is it,” he started as he made his way over. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Y/N nodded her head while swallowing, gesturing with her hand at the chair opposite hers. “Yes, go ahead,” she said when her mouth was free to.

“Cheers.” Harry sat down, slid a little closer to the table and rested his hands between his legs as he leaned back against the back of the chair.

The two fell into silence for a little while, Y/N watching as Harry’s eyes fixed on the small bouquet of flowers in the tiny vase placed in the middle of the round table. Yes, she loved company, but Harry’s had taken her a little by surprise and she was eager to know why he’d come looking for her. She didn’t want to try and draw a conclusion herself without hearing his reasoning first, knowing that whatever she came up with wouldn’t be correct anyway. Instead, she put her toastie back on her plate and focused her attention on Harry, who had yet to say anything. From the way he was biting the inside of his lip, she assumed he was mulling over the right thing to say. It didn’t seem to ever come when finally, he opened his mouth.

“First, I just want to say sorry for yesterday,” he said, meeting her eyes, but quickly looking to her shoulder. “It was proper daft. I was desperate and I panicked, and you were right there.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

Y/N just gave him a smile. “You don’t have to apologise, I’m glad I could help.”

“And I appreciate you helping me out, I really do, but… here’s the thing…” He cleared his throat. “Jessa and Gracie are right about losing their minds of this.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they called and texted all last night and this morning, saying how nice it was to meet you, that I need to bring you to Grace’s birthday next Saturday,” Harry said. “And it makes me wonder if it was even worth it yesterday. I still appreciate what you did, and this is all my fault, but I think…” He trailed off again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Look, I’m doing a naff job of explaining this.”

Sipping her juice, Y/N just smiled at him till she put her glass down. “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath. “Think I might tell them it’s all fake. I don’t have a partner and that’s fine.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, being single is fine.”

“Only thing that’s stopping me is the fact that Jasmine will be crushed. Ever since my dad died, she’s been so worried about me living alone in the lighthouse.”

There was so much to unpack in that sentence that Y/N felt herself retract a little, scanning his face for what the appropriate reaction to that would be. Harry must’ve noticed her silence so he glanced at her face, eyes going wide.

“Oh! Don’t feel like you-“

“-I’m sorry about your dad.”

“No, that’s okay, he hasn’t been with us for two years now,” Harry went on. “That was a real mood killer. Bringing up my dead father with someone I barely know.”

Y/N smiled. “Think you fake breaking up with me was a great mood killer before that was even brought up.”

Harry smiled a little at that, those deep dimples just barely gracing his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She wiped at her mouth with the napkin, brows slowly coming into a frown. “You said something about a lighthouse… do you live there?”

“In the lighthouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m the lighthouse keeper.”

Her frown deepened a little.

“What?”

“I didn’t think those existed anymore.”

“What, lighthouses?” Harry’s smile widened, amusement tracing his pink lips.

“No, lighthouse keepers.”

He shrugged. “Here’s a living, breathing example of one.”

She couldn’t help her laughter. “Fine, I take it back. I don’t really think about lighthouses enough to give their keepers much of a thought either.”

“Too bad.”

Y/N just shook her head some, noticing a slight redness to Harry’s cheeks that hadn’t been there a few seconds earlier. “You were saying about Jessa.”

“She’s worried about me living alone in the lighthouse. Says I’ll be lonely and that she thinks about me sitting up there crying my eyes out or summat.”

“Do you? Cry your eyes out?”

“No, I like having my own space. I like living there alone. She’s just being a protective stepmum, looking out for me and all that. Like, yes, I’m still sad Dad is dead, but it wasn’t like he lived with me in the lighthouse anyway. He lived with Jasmine and Grace.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “She doesn’t want you to be alone ‘cause she thinks you don’t want to be.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pausing a bit before mumbling something that sounded like, “That’s why I’ve told them for a few months now that I have a girlfriend.”

She narrowed her eyes some.

“To get them off my back, innit? I don’t want them to think I’m miserable, ‘cause I’m not. But when I told them I had a girlfriend, they got so happy, yeah? I just tried to be as vague as possible, didn’t give them a name and they didn’t ask, assuming I wanted to keep her secret. Jessa hasn’t bugged me about this in weeks… Until yesterday.”

Y/N started piecing everything together. “That’s why you stormed out of the restaurant.”

He nodded. “And ran into you.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “The idea of just telling them I was your fake girlfriend just fell into your head once you saw me?”

Harry chuckled and shifted his gaze away from her, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah. I never do stuff like that. I hate uncertainty, so trusting you yesterday when I didn’t know if you’d play along… well, it took five years of my life.”

She laughed. “If I hadn’t then the whole lie would’ve been obvious to Jessa and Grace.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help then,” Y/N said, really meaning it as well.

“Yeah, and thank you so much for doing so. It really helped me out… if you look away from Jasmine texting me five times today alone to organise a dinner with you and all of us.”

They both laughed a little at that and when Y/N glanced at Harry again, he was looking down at his hands in his lap. After a brief pause, he met her eyes again.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, and thank you for helping me. I’ll tell them everything now, I don’t want you to have to hide while you’re here for two months.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

For the next few seconds, they looked at one another in silence. Y/N thought back to the moment she’d seen Harry, how it might’ve taken her a few seconds to catch on, but her main instinct had been to help him. She thought of the gratitude on Harry’s face when she played along, how she hoped he one day would find an actual girlfriend that would have just as big of an impact on Jessa and Grace as it seemed she herself had. She was about to tell Harry this when the sound of footsteps sounded from the lobby again.

A woman Bessie’s age walked in, a bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses in her short black hair. As she stepped inside, she spotted Harry and Y/N sitting together and her mouth fell open, a grin coming to rest on her wrinkling face.

“Bessie, you didn’t tell me these two were going to be here,” the old woman said, walking into the dining area. Bessie stepped out from behind the wall that hid the reception desk from the dining hall. At that, Y/N’s stomach dropped. Bessie must’ve heard their entire conversation. By the look on Harry’s face, he was going through a similar near-death experience to the one Y/N was currently enduring.

“Hi, Mrs Rose,” Harry said, no one seemed to notice the slight tremor to his voice.

“Harry and his new girlfriend,” Mrs Rose said, looking between them. “You know, you lot are the talk of the town.”

“We are?” Harry asked, the surprise in his voice so evident it made the older women laugh.

“Yes, of course! Jasmine told everyone!” Mrs Rose continued, looking to Bessie who was already nodding her head.

“Not everyone, but she told her friends, and you know how people like to gossip around here, don’t you, Harry?” Bessie gave him a smile and Harry smiled back, though it did not reach his eyes. “Anyway, Florence, this is Y/N. Y/N, Florence.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N said, grinning at Florence who stuck her hand out. The two shook hands as Florence beamed back at Y/N. “So, the whole town knows?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Florence said, turning to Bessie who made a noise of agreement. “Jessa can talk about everything and anything for hours, but if her stepson gets a girlfriend? That’s the news of the century and she will not shut up.”

“How lovely,” Y/N said, not really knowing what else was appropriate in this setting as Harry hadn’t opened his mouth once to say anything.

“It’s a little less lonesome up in that lighthouse now, hm?”

“Oh, uhm…” Harry looked at Y/N and then back at Florence, his words having completely escaped him. Y/N was about to come to Harry’s rescue when Bessie took them both by surprise.

“They stayed here tonight,” Bessie explained and Florence looked at her with a furrow between her brows.

“Why on earth would they do that? Harry’s got a perfectly nice place by the lighthouse.”

“Who are we to question the decisions of our youth?” Bessie linked arms with Florence. “Let’s go outside, Flo dear. Leave the lovebirds to be by themselves.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Rose,” Y/N called after them.

“And you, Y/N!”

The second the two ladies were out of sight, Harry and Y/N shared a wide-eyed look, both of their panic equal it seemed. Y/N took a sip of her juice, somehow thinking it would calm her down. It did not.

“Jasmine told everyone,” Harry said, voice a whisper so no one walking by or sitting in the back garden would hear them. “She told everyone.”

“She can’t have… right?”

“You underestimate Jessa. If she was kidnapped and put in a gag, she’d be able to talk through it and move her jaw and teeth in a way that would obliterate said gag.” Harry ran a hand over his face. “She’s very chatty.”

“You’ve painted a vivid picture.”

Harry sighed, leg bouncing and eyes distant as he seemed to be racking his brain for a solution to the situation they were finding themselves in. “I was gonna tell Jessa it was a lie. I was gonna tell-“

“-You still can.”

“But everyone knows now. It’ll be well embarrassing for us when we have to tell people on the street that ‘oh yeah, that ol’ thing, we only pretended to be a couple so people wouldn’t be all up in Harry’s business,’ I somehow don’t see that going down well.”

“Then there’s only one thing we can do?”

“What’s that?”

“We pretend to be a couple.”

He stared at her, his facial expression very neutral, and though Y/N didn’t know him well enough yet, she did think she could decipher when he was displeased and when he was not. He seemed to be mulling it over, wanting for her to elaborate before he made a final decision.

“Everyone knows, I’m leaving in August, we can just say we broke up when August comes around.”

Harry nodded, thinking for a moment before he asked, “What will people say when they see us separated on the street then? Like, we’re not seen together.”

“People need to spend some time apart; it’s exhausting to be around another person 24/7.”

Harry nodded again, contemplating their predicament. “There’s always a lot of parties around here during summer. You don’t have to tag along, but you might have to if Jessa’s gonna be there.”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders some. “I don’t have anything to do all summer, anyway. Might as well be in a fake relationship with a bloke I barely know and help him all I can.”

This made a breathy chuckle leave Harry’s lips and he held her gaze some before having it fall to his folded hands. “Well…” he said, suddenly reaching his hand across the table. “I’m Harry Edward Styles.”

Y/N laughed but took Harry’s hand, shaking it lightly. “Pleased to meet you, Harry. I’m Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay.”

Harry whistled under his breath. “Mouthful.”

“What happens when you’re brought up in a posh family.”

Harry smiled at that and sat back in his chair. “I guess… I-I guess we should talk about how we got together and all that.”

“Yeah, make a story so it sounds more believable.”

“It’ll help if we have the same story, yes.”

She couldn’t help her laughter again, but it was cut short as Harry’s phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, taking it out and looking at it before putting it back down.

“Look, I gotta go.”

“Oh.” Y/N, having thought they were going to plan their fake dating history, blinked in confusion when Harry stood from his chair and looked at her apologetically. “We’ll see each other at some point.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, walking off toward the back garden, calling Bessie’s name as he did. They exchanged some words Y/N couldn’t hear and Harry disappeared into the kitchen for a minute before resurfacing again. Standing in the lobby, he looked at Y/N through the doorway leading into the dining area, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with something to say.

She just gave him a smile, hoping he understood that she just wanted him to take his time. It took one more sigh and a little staring contest before Harry finally found his words.

“You know where to find me, my house is the very tall, pointy one on the outskirts of town.”

She chuckled, watching as he walked out of the front door and down the street. Y/N found her bag, putting it on her shoulder as she got her lunch tray and sat it in the kitchen as she’d done after her breakfast that morning. On her way upstairs, Y/N turned as she reached the front door that was left open to welcome guests. Stepping into the doorway, she looked out over St Ives.

Seagulls were still screaming overhead, the sound of people down by the beach hung in the air all throughout the day, it smelled of seafood and summer, and just beyond the small town, on a tiny hilltop and on the very tip of a cliff, stood a lighthouse. A white lighthouse that rose high above the whole coast around it, protecting everyone. Locals, foreigners, and sailors. And it was operated and taken care of by the bloke Y/N was going to spend her entire summer in a fake relationship with. It didn’t seem real, and yet, that was exactly what it was. She didn’t have Harry’s number and knew next to nothing about him, but – as he put it – he lived in the very tall, pointy house on the outskirts of town. It was impossible to miss it. She could find her way to him, even in the dark.

The lighthouse keeper, Y/N thought to herself as she took in the lighthouse again through the window of her room once she walked upstairs. I have to pretend to be in love with a lighthouse keeper. And somehow, Y/N realised when looking back on that particular summer, that wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to her in St Ives.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 2 August, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic 🌊 @bopbopstyles 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @juliassgem 🌊 @summerfeelng 🌊 @sunflower--styles 🌊 @withallthelove-a 🌊

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #het fic #1dff #PLS DO COME CHAT WHEN YOU'RE DONE READING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH :DDDDDDD

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holycow99 · 3 years ago

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石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 2

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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*Someone asked about Choujin X.

I: I’ve given the manuscript for chp 8. It’ll be released in a few days. I don’t really have much to say about this. I wanna write this month’s goals for Osushi. The big plan is to fix(?) chp 8. Then, I wanna release another two chapters this month. Chp 8 has 20 something pages. I want to at least draw the chapters in a weekly pace. What I mean by that is I wanna draw 72 pages per month. If I could draw 72 pages a month, I drew 18 pages per week during Weekly Young Jump too. So, I wanna draw 18 pages per week, which is 72 pages per month. That’s the amount of pages for weekly publication. It’d be nice if I could draw at least this much by myself. If I drew 25 pages weekly for three weeks, It’d have a total of 75 pages. I can currently get it done. If I updated 3 chapters a month, I’d have a total of 70-something pages per month. Then, nobody will complain. It’s not like anyone is complaining. It’s so that I won’t complain to myself. This is directed towards me as a challenge. Of course, it’s okay if I couldn’t do it. It doesn’t matter if I can or can’t, I thought it’s better to have a goal.

C: And the fact that you’re streaming right now is amazing!

I: Right? I spent a lot of time at the end of August doing rectifications, plotting, etc. They’re all important things to do. Since I have a little bit of free time, I thought of streaming.

C: It’s okay to draw the chapters slowly. Do you concern about maintaining the quality?

I: The quality is as usual. I mean, that’s one of the reason. It’s also to match the quality of the work. The drawing style in Choujin X is different, so of course the drawing will be different too. There are things that have changed. I want to match the vibe of the work, and also, I wanna prioritise speed over the quality. By speed, I don’t mean I wanna write them in a hurry. I want them to have a quality that’s easy to balance. I’m still playing around with it.

C: Until what chapters do you plan to release the physical copy?

I: I can just release it. I do have a plan for it, like releasing 2 volumes altogether.

C: I’m okay with anything as long as you don’t collapse later on.

I: You’re exactly right. I’m doing it with ease. So that the serialisation will go well, I’m adjusting my pace. This is just my ideal, but I wanna serialise another manga. It doesn’t have to be serialised, I have another stuff I wanna release. I’m finding the time to make one. If I make it a rule to do other things after I’ve done 75 pages per month, I don’t have to draw more. I could use the time to do other stuffs.

C: Don’t push yourself.

I: I’m not.

C: Are you overworking?

I: Not at all. I have many hands.

C: Did you play JJ?

I: I played the game like hell.

C: Is it easier to not have assisstants?

I: That’s a good question. This is kinda weird, people say that your work will progress more if you have more assistants, but that’s not the case. I did TG without knowing that. People will ask you to check on their works. So, the more the people, the more the workload. There’s probably an appropriate number of people you should have. 4 people would probably be enough during TG. But there were more people, like the helpers, but they did regularly help. It was quite a lot. I won’t be able to do my own work when there’s a lot of staffs. I don’t have assistants for choujin X so that I can do it with ease, and umm… It’s the fastest way for me. Of course, I do think the quality of the work will increase if there are staffs. I’m trying to see if I can speed up my work to a certain extent without having to check on others’ works and consider about other people, while creating the quality contents I’m capable of.

C: Working alone or with assistants finish faster?

I: It depends on the stuffs you’re making. For choujin x, I think it’d be hard for me to draw them if I had assistants. It’ll be great if we can have divisions.

C: Are you gonna hire a care assistant? (t/n: The Japanese word is Meshistant, which means assistant who mainly takes care of the mangaka’s meal, chore, etc. So, I just put it as care assistant.)

I: Definitely no. I didn’t let my assistants do the chore. I even cleaned the toilet myself. I kinda hate it. I hate the label they give to such people. Meshistant. I don’t like people who call them that. I don’t mean you. I probably won’t be fond of mangakas who use that word. They’re your staffs, right?

C: Do you think of the story all by yourself?

I: Yeah. Sometimes I do get ideas from my surrounding. But, most of it came from mine.

(t/n: I’m not sure if the last sentence is correct. I couldn’t really understand what he meant, but it’s something like that.)

C: I’m having a hard time to sleep. Recommend ways for me to sleep well.

I: Probably read books. It can make your eyes feel tired. Then, maybe by not sleeping? But you might think it’s better to sleep. I understand. I wanna keep trying to fall asleep, but then I’ll watch movies while lying down. I have trouble sleeping lately. I used to sleep a lot.

C: Meshistant is also an honourable job.

I: Then, why not just hire people who specialised in that. Like housekeepers. They have that, right? Something like a home helper. That is better, isn’t it? Using assistants who’re enthusiastic to draw manga to do stuffs like that is awkward for me.

*Someone commented about hiring maid.

I: Maid? Then, I’d like that. Hahaha. Should I hire a maid? I’m recruiting maids.

C: Even at the age of 250,000, you still have trouble falling asleep.

I: Yeah.

C: Are they hired to make meals?

I: Yeah. There’s various types of assistant in the manga industry. This one refers to an assistant in charge of meals.

I: What did I wanna talk about? Oh yeah, about Animal Rap. I’m thinking whether or not I should upload animal rap video during stream, but where is the file? I’ve decided to upload it after this stream ends. What was it that I wanna talk about? Can you tell me about my current status, such as about the Sui exhibition in Osaka and Nagoya, or about Ms. Towada’s illustrations?

C: How about a live rap?

I: Good idea.

C: About the plan for 30,000 subscribers.

I: That’s right 2x. We’re talking about what to do to celebrate 30,000 subscribers.

C: I can be your maid for free.

I: I’ll definitely pay you. If it’s for free, then you won’t feel your sense of duty. I’ll give a huge salary and pressure you so that you’ll work responsibly.

C: Ms. Towada can both write novels and draw. Amazing!

I: I also can. Hahaha. I also…ah, but I can’t write novels. I won’t lose to her.

C: Do you have double eyelids.

I: Mine is hidden one.

C: Appear in First Take.

I: I won’t.

C: Are your eyelashes long?

I: Yes. My eyelashes are long, I have hidden double eyelids, I am of medium build…but I’m already worn-out.

(t/n: He used the word ‘boroboro’. I couldn’t really find the proper word to translate it in this context. Worn-out is the only one I could think of that suits the context.)

C: Are you handsome?

I: Well…I’m pretty good looking.

C: Have you been going to the gym?

I: No, I haven’t, since I was busy with work. I wanna go though.

C: I wanted to go to Mr. Kunimitsu’s concert.

I: Me too.

C: Which one is more handsome? You or Kaneki?

I: Wouldn’t that be Kaneki?

C: How about another stream with Ms. Towada?

I: I re-listened to the stream with Ms.Towada. For some reason, she was laughing a lot in the stream. Though she always like that. It’s slightly embarrassing. She’s acting like she’s at home. It felt like she’s disclosing my family situation, so it’s a bit..., but I can do that again from time to time. When I wanna do something related to JJ, then I’ll call her. That’s the most suitable content.

*Someone asked him to invite his younger sister.

I: It’s impossible to invite my younger sister.

*People wanted Goubaru to be the guest.

C: Goubaru, huh?

C: Do you have someone you wanna invite?

I: No, I don’t. The corona is one thing, but I’m completely okay with not meeting people. I do talk to people I’m close with. I think that’s already enough. It’s not like I have someone I’m involved with. I do usually talk to Mr. Kunimitsu.

*People want Hanae Natsuki again.

I: Hanae? That’s definitely impossible.

*He’s talking about Japanese youtubers.

C: Can you beat boxing?

I: I’m practising at the moment.

*Currently taking about Japanese artists.

* Someone asked who he thinks could be the next popular artist.

I: Lately, I only listen to instrumentals. The one that I like recently is the girl band called Chai. The group’s vocalists are twins. The group is great. It’s not like I like the band because there’s someone who caught my intention. I listened to their songs first before I decided whether I liked them or not. I thought this kind of voice also exists.

C: Congrats for TG’s 10th anniversary.

I: Thank you. Thank you to Brazil as well. (t/n: Someone commented Brazil.)

*He pinned his Chai comment.

C: People who just came don’t understand what’s going on.

I: It’s okay if you don’t. Hehe.

C: Sensei, can you eat choco mint?

I: I can.

C: I thought the bgm was from Animal Crossing.

I: This is Yorushika’s Escape.

*Still talking about Japanese artists.

C: Have you seen Midsummer?

I: Yes, I have.

(t/n: He said something about the new evangelion movies. But I couldn’t really translate that part properly. He basically watched the Rebuild Evangelion movies from the start since he never watched it before. He planned to go to Yamaguchi prefecture, the birthtown of Evangelion’s author to watch the last movie.)

Y****: I’m reading Toro Hedoro! I recommend it!

I: I do read that. Don’t underestimate me! I do read One Piece as well, but half-way through.

C: You can watch the Evangelion movie on Amazon Prime.

I: I wanna watch the final movie at the cinema. Has the final movie come out? It has? But I’m still gonna watch at the cinema.

C: Have you read Tokyo Ghoul?

I: Nope.

C: I recommend Tokyo Ghoul!

I: Is that so? I have a story regarding TG, but it’s probably gonna be quite deep.

C: One Piece has reached 100 volumes!

I: That guy and Odacchi have reached 100 volumes, right? Hahaha. That guy is Luffy, while Odacchi is Oda sensei. Hahaha. I can’t call him that. Odacchi is Oda sensei and Kishikage is Kishimoto sensei. I see, that guy has reached 100 volumes? Way to go! Hahaha! No one is watching this anyway. I’ll properly lick his boots if he’s in front of me, since he’s the real deal. I’ll be very obedient and sucking up to him.

(t/n: Ishida was using the word ‘aitsu’ to refer Eichiro Oda. As far as I know, it’s an impolite way of calling someone older or in higher status than you in Japan.)

C: He’s scarier than Hikakin (a Japanese youtuber.)

I: Right. We are in the same industry after all. But I think Young Jump and Jump are different subsidiaries. Although, Hara sensei seems to have met with Odacchi, so maybe there’ll be an opportunity for me to meet him. But probably no. Someone like me won’t be able to meet Eichiro Oda sensei. I won’t meet him. He seems like a unique person.

*Ishida talking about an illustrator and youtuber called Saito Naoki.

(t/n: I couldn’t translate the first half of this part because they’re talking about something that had happened, and I don’t know the context of it.)

I: The name ‘Saito Naoki’ is very nice. Is it a pen name? It totally sounds like a real name though.

C: Are you close with Kishida Mel? (t/n: Kishida Mel is an illustrator and a character designer.)

I: I’ve never met him, but Kiyoppi, Kiyohara Hiro sensei and Melcchi are good friends. He’s like a friend of my friend. You have things like that, right?

C: The name ‘Ishida Sui’ is cool!

I: I seriously wanna change my pen name. I wanna change to something like Gengoro. I wanna change to a manlier name. I didn’t give a thought about my name before. I used that name because I thought I was gonna be famous in the future, so I didn’t wanna use my real name. I seriously thought that I couldn’t become a mangaka if my real name was exposed. I was like “Since I’m gonna be famous, let’s avoid using my real name.” I was being vigilant about it, so I half-heartedly named my pen name.

I: The name Gengoro is nice. Tagami Gengoro. Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro. The Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro’s exhibition is now open. I’d definitely sounds like a bearded fatty. With round glasses to top it off. Isn’t Tagami Gengoro a character from a gay manga?

*Ishida searching for Tagami Gengoro.

I: Everyone, don’t search for it. I’m scared something dirty will appear. Is it not? Oh, it isn’t. what’s the name again? There is a character named something Gengoro, right? It’s Tagame Gengoroh! I got it now! Tagame Gengorohw as born in 1964 and a Japanese mangaka. He calimed himself to be a ‘Gay Erotic Artist’. This is the one! It’s Tagame Gengoroh sensei.

*Ishida was looking at Tagame Gengoroh sensei’s illustrations.

I: This one. Wow, this is indeed gay! Hahaha.

C: I can’t believe it came out of your mouth.

I: Surprisingly, I do talk about these kind of stuffs. (t/n: I mean, he’s the man who wrote a whole R-18 chapter.)

I: So, I can’t use the name Gengoro, since there’s someone with this name.

C: Is the name ‘Ishida Sui’ an anagram of your Surname?

I: Yes, it is.

C: Are you gay?

I: Hahaha! Even if that’s true, you didn’t have to ask that kind of question! Let’s just say that I’m okay with both.

C: Kuso Miso. (t/n: Kusomiso is a gay manga.)

I: Of course, I’d be reading them (probably referring to gay manga). I mean, manga like Kuso Miso Technique are popular, right?

C: Ishida GayGoro.

I: Hahaha. That’s just gay.

C: You’ve been to a gay bar before, right?

I: Not at all. When I was hanging out with the staffs, Goubaru said he wanted to go to a Okama bar while crying.

(t/n: According to the internet, Okama is a term referring to guys who adapted female characteristics.)

C: I think it’s completely normal to be gay nowadays.

I: We’re talking about gay now. It’s not normal in the first place. It’s just a sexual orientation. If you pick on every little thing, everything will become a problem. Those who deliberately say they’re not prejudiced against gays are actually are. Even if you tell that to people, they’ll probably filter what they wanna say. They’d be conscious of every single thing they say. Things like that don’t matter.

C: Sensei, let’s talk about something else.

I: Why? I’m okay with it.

C: I’m bi.

I: Does it matter? It’s okay.

C: It’s difficult to say something regarding gender issues, right?

I: Well…It’s difficult, since it’s concerning your mindset. It doesn’t only apply to gender issues; you can hurt someone by making careless remarks. It’s just that you sometimes accidentally let out your opinions. I also think I sometimes make unnecessary remarks, so I might do that.

C: I want to be embraced by Masataka Kubota. (t/n: Masataka Kubota is a Japanese actor who played as Kaneki in the live-action.)

I: That’s right. Must be nice. I want us to embrace each other.

Part 3

#ishida sui #tokyo ghoul #jack jeanne #choujin x #chojin x #ishida sushi channel

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wolfs-hunt1 · 4 years ago

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Draco x reader

Pairing: Draco x Gryffindor reader

Summary: Your final game of quiditch of the season and your team wins, leading to a after party in the room of requirements with your boyfriend

Word count: 1635

A/N: I’ve started this last year and only now got around to finishing it, I’m so sorry it’s bad

Warnings: under age drinking, sorry for any typo

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

Being a chaser had its perks. For one, it improved your reflexes outside of the pitch, so you were one of the best snowball fighters Hogwarts has ever seen during the winter months. And for another, you looked hot in your Quidditch robes. But being a chaser for the team wasn't always fun and games.

There were no dull moments during the game, to which you were actually thankful for, there was always something to do always someplace to be, and five other chasers to pay attention to, not to mention the other players. This also meant that there was never a moment where you could stop to rest. You would always have to pay attention. One distraction and it could mean the other team's Chaser took the quaffle and could score 10 points, and that could mean losing the match on some occasions.

Not quite like a Seeker, where all they did was sit atop a broom the entire game searching for a little golden ball. That ought to be boring, although the longer the game dragged on the more prone to tiredness one would get, despite what position they occupied.

This was the last game of the season, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. The most awaited match, the most rival teams, both with the most to lose. The winning team would win the Quidditch cup and seal the fate of the year, bringing great pride to their house, and they head of the house.

The score was 200 to 190, Gryffindor on the lead, it was a very head-to-head game, each team never letting the other score too much before closing in on the difference, and the golden snitch was nowhere to be found. Not that you had had a moment to look around, but you could see, from the corner of your eye, the two seekers zooming in and out searching for it.

In fact, despite the fact that you couldn't see him, you felt his gaze on you more than once throughout the game. His grey icy eyes lingering on you whenever he flew overhead, his silver and green robes matching his pale blond hair, making it hard to miss him. In fact, his smirk was so annoying that the next time he flew close to you, you didn't even budge, colliding into his side and steering him off course before continuing with the quaffle to the opposing team's goalposts. His chuckled laugh the last thing you heard. He was so smug his team was going to win he wasn't even paying attention out for the snitch!

You looked over to Harry for just one second, only to find him focused on the game. 'Now that is a true seeker. You could learn something from him Malfoy.' you thought with a snarky grin before scoring the next goal. The two teams were once more tied when Slytherin scored 5 min later. Catching the snitch would be the only way to win the game if the scores were kept this close together.

Getting the grip on your broom tighter you zoom out of the way of the bludger one of the Slytherin beaters had thrown at you, barely avoiding getting hit by it and plummeting down to the ground below. You quickly regained the balance of your broom and angled it upwards, getting back to the game as if nothing had happened, but keeping a keen eye out for those beaters. You could see Fred shadowing you a bit more closely after that though, keeping the bludgers away from your vicinity.

You manage to intercept the quaffle and quickly make your way to the opposing goal posts, throwing the quaffle in the air and making a somersault with your broom, hitting the quaffle with its bristles, and scoring another 10 points to Gryffindor, making the crowd cheer out your name when all of a sudden the crowd goes silent, only Lee Jordan screaming out what was happening outside of your field of view.

Apparently, both Harry and Draco had spotted the elusive golden snitch and were both toe to toe after it, everyone was holding in their breaths and even the remaining players had stopped playing to look at the seekers themselves, hearing on for their respective team member.

Most of the remainder of the game was a blur in the back of your mind. Harry had caught the snitch, and the entire Gryffindor house was at the pitch chanting the house name at the top of their lungs and carrying the Quidditch players above their heads, making you feel like you were floating in the air without the help of a broom.

Your ears kept the ringing from all the screaming, even after you were in the locker room, only the water from the shower making noise around you, washing out the sweat of the game from your body.

The Gryffindor tower was able with the after-party, which really started in the great hall during dinner and was brought back here so as to spare the Slytherins some of the humiliation the green-clothed pompous students were feeling.

Escaping the party was near impossible though, because either Freed or George always found you trying to sneak by partying students and manage to drag you right back to the thick of it, giving you another shot of firewhiskey they had managed to smuggle inside without the teacher's knowledge. You were starting to feel a bit hazy, but all the party noise was making your head pound more than it should on the basis.

So, after your fourth attempt at escaping, and after making sure both twins were busy with a small favor requested of Angelina, you finally managed to slip past them and the Fat Lady portrait, and slowly, so as not to trip over your own feet, making your way down the stairs, with the room of requirements as your destination.

Passing for a few seconds in front of the corridor the door to the room of requirements started to slowly appear, and as soon as it was fully visible you slipped inside, letting the door close behind you soundlessly. The room was too different from what you remembered from last year, the rows of piled-up furniture now contrasting with the way the room previously looked, despite it being able to change.

But this did provide you with some privacy in your nightly escapades since you could just hide behind a particularly dome-shaped pile and hope to not be noticed by anyone else. You made your way to this corner and noticed that he was already there, waiting for you atop the blankets and pillows you both had eventually brought there to make the corner more comfortable to spend the copious amounts of time you two spent there.

"You sure took your sweet time." the blond grumbled at you, pulling you to his lap once you were close enough, making you straddle his waste and sit comfortably on his thighs.

"Sorry, I had some trouble with getting away noticed." you slurred a bit on some words, making him push you a bit off his lat so he could look at you more clearly.

"Are you drunk?" he asked, with a scandalous tone on his lips, "And you didn't even wait to get drunk with me. I'm offended." his smirk was too distracting, though, making you not pay too much attention to his teasing words.

"Just shut up and kiss me, you git."

"With pleasure." the blonde says, raising his wands to your face and cupping your cheeks while his lips tentatively searched for your at first until he gained more intensity, kissing you like he was a starved man looking at a feast for the first time in forever.

"I'm sorry your team lost." you whisper in between kisses, moving your harms from his waist to his neck, getting closer to his body heat.

Draco stops kissing you for a second to look deep into your eyes, before answering: "I don't mind we lost, I got to stare at you play the entire time, and let me tell you, you were amazing. Just... don't tell my father that, he always expects ME to be more than great."

"Well, I did notice you totally spaced out during the game, but if I had known I was the cause of it, I would have made sure to acknowledge my fan." you giggle out at him, pecking his lips when he pouts a bit at you.

"So I've brought this for us to celebrate one of us winning, but I guess you already started celebrating without me." Draco says, pulling out a bottle of firewhiskey from under his robes.

"I tried to get away sooner, but neither Fred nor George were having it, since I scored most goals for the team. But I'm here now to celebrate with you." he smiles at you and pours out some of the bottle's contents into two glasses, passing you one of them and toasting with you.

"To us, for the last game of the season, for the final days of the school year. For our two years together, and keeping it out of others noses." he laughs a bit when you mention that last part, remembering how hard it had been to keep your relationship hidden from every nosy person in the castle for this past two years, allowing the two of you to enjoy more together and giving no satisfaction to others.

For now, the two of you remain in your bubble, drunken kisses and cuddles leading to a sleepover in the room of requirements, and to a blissful few more moments together before having to catch the train to return home for summer vacations, until next school year rolled around bringing the two lovers back together once again.

#Harry Potter #draco x reader #draco malfoy #hogwarts #room of requirement #quiditch #seeker #chaser #lovers #secret lover #forbidden love #slytherin #gryffindor #gryffindor reader #gryffindor x slytherin #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x gryffindor reader #My writing

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

Text

Spellbinding (Chapter Five)

Summary: After a flirtatious sparring session with Loki and a troubling encounter with Peter Parker, (Y/N) confronts Tony and struggles to control her magic around the billionaire.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Five June 10th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

The sound of the arrow hitting the edge of the bullseye was overshadowed by the loud applause filling the cavernous weapons training room. Grinning triumphantly, (Y/N) lowered her bow and headed over to the two figures standing near the doorway.

“Nice job, (Y/L/N)! You’re comin’ along pretty good!” Clint patted her on the back, a playful smirk on his face. “Not as good as me, obviously, but pretty good.”

Natasha gave him a small shove. “Clint, be nice!” He only giggled to himself and she gave (Y/N) a kind smile. “You’re doing really well, (Y/N). Maybe you could replace this idiot as the team’s resident archer someday.” Over the past couple of months, the two women had slowly gotten to know one another; Natasha was almost always away on missions but whenever she was free, they bonded over their training sessions and their statuses as the only female Avengers on the team.

(Y/N) chuckled. “That’s okay, I’ll let Hawkeye here keep his job; besides, I have a feeling I’ll be even more comfortable with a sword than a bow.” She set her bow back on the weapons rack and picked up a familiar blade. The hilt was decorated with intricately designed etchings, and it felt perfectly balanced in her hand; Loki, with Bruce’s help, had created it for her in the lab, explaining that it would be better to learn swordsmanship with a well-matched blade and that it would be easier to create one rather than search for the perfect fit. It really does feel natural, she thought with a smile, easily twirling the sword around in her hand. “Do either of you know when Loki’s coming down for practice?”

“Nope, haven’t seen him since breakfast.” Checking his watch, Clint’s eyes widened almost comically. “Shit, we’re late for that meeting, Tasha, Fury’s gonna kick our asses! We’ll see you later, (Y/L/N)!” He grabbed Natasha’s arm and began dragging her out of the room.

“Good luck with your first sword fighting lesson, (Y/N)!” Natasha called over her shoulder as she and Clint left and sprinted down the hall, desperate not to be reprimanded by Director Fury yet again. “Ow, quit trying to pull my arm out of its socket, asshat!”

Giggling, (Y/N) wandered around the room and occasionally swung her sword, silently enjoying the sounds it made as it cut through the air. She was excited when Loki and Steve told her she’d begin training with a bow and sword; she’d never told anyone before, but guns made her nervous and she was glad she’d never have to use one. And she couldn’t help but feel that learning to use the weapons of her mother’s culture would bring her closer to her somehow, but she was too embarrassed to say it aloud. The others might scoff at her sentimentality, but she knew that Loki would never do that.

At the thought of her best friend, she sighed in frustration and began pacing around the room with more purpose. It was becoming harder and harder to suppress her feelings for him, especially after he helped her through that horrible day two weeks prior, but she was determined not to lose the fight for their friendship. Shifting his focus from romantic literature to mystery novels certainly helped; it was easier to set her feelings aside as he read aloud from novels such as The Hound of Baskerville than when he read aloud from ones like Sense and Sensibility. Maybe I should have him read Mary Shelly next, she thought with an amused smile, that’ll really calm the romantic thoughts.

But just as she reached the opposite side of the room, an unsettling feeling put her senses on high alert. Quickly spinning around, she brought her sword up just in time to meet her attacker’s blade with a reverberating clang.

“Your senses are improving, Lady (Y/N),” Loki grinned, pushing her blade away with his own and stepping back. “I’m impressed.”

Before she could reply, he swung his sword at her abdomen and she was quick to clumsily swipe the attack away and block his next from clipping her shoulder. “I thought we were having a formal lesson today?”

Her best friend shrugged as they started to circle one another. “We were, but I concluded that unlike magic, swordplay doesn’t need to be taught formally. You have generations of Light Elf blood flowing through your veins, which means that you already possess a natural skill with swords; besides, I feel that using weapons takes considerably less concentration and caution that using magic.”

“Oh, I don’t know, if I wasn’t concentrating right now I’d never realize that you’re only trying to distract me.” She suddenly raised her sword and swung, but Loki disappeared as soon as the blade made contact with his; a heartbeat later, the cool edge of a training knife was at her throat and a sword-wielding arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her securely against a strong form. “Clever, Loki…”

“My brother isn’t the only Asgardian-trained warrior in this tower, you know.” His warm breath tickled the side of her neck, and (Y/N) swore she could feel his nose nuzzle into her hair while her heart fluttered in her chest. “Now, try and break free of-”

Before he could finish his sentence, she elbowed him hard in the stomach and used his surprise to duck under his loosened arm, quickly straightening and parring away his fast sword strike. “You mean like that?”

“Precisely,” Loki sheathed the dagger and twirled his sword in his hand, an amused gleam in his green eyes. “Now, let’s see what else you can do.”

For the next half hour, they were at a stalemate; neither of them had been able to disarm or knock the other down, no matter how hard they tried, but (Y/N) knew she was tiring. Her strikes were becoming slower, it was becoming much harder to dodge his attacks, and she had a nasty feeling that Loki would quickly take advantage of her weakness at any minute. In desperation, she parried his sword away and swung hers at his head, but she immediately regretted her action; Loki easily blocked the strike and used his sword to twist hers out of her hand. It landed on the ground with a loud clang, and before she could reach for it, he kicked her leg out from under her and she landed harshly on her back. A moment later, he was hovering above her, one hand pinning both of hers above her head and the other holding his sword to her throat. The sounds of their heavy breathing filled the silence of the room, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle in equal amounts of amusement and embarrassment.

“Well, it looks as though you’ve won fair and square, Loki. I’d shake your hand, but they’re a little preoccupied at the moment.”

Loki’s triumphant grin widened at her joke. “Your apology is accepted, Lady (Y/N), though I personally prefer your hands right where they are.” When she gave him a questioning look, he continued. “Now I can finally enact my revenge upon you for your heinous crime. You know which one, of course.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and she began struggling against him. “L-Loki, I told you, it was a complete accident, Steve and Bucky were there, they’ll tell you the exact same thing…!”

“I’m not quite sure that I believe your story; you’re telling me that the other day at dinner, you accidentally tripped over Steve’s foot, you accidentally fell on me and you accidentally began tickling me? You have to admit, it doesn’t sound very convincing.”

She tried in vain not to smile guiltily as he spoke. The truth was that she was curious whether the Asgardian was ticklish or not, so when she noticed Steve’s foot sticking out from under the table she decided to test out her theory. It turned out that the Asgardian did make the same sounds as the Pillsbury Dough-Boy when tickled, just as she suspected. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, Loki!”

“Lady (Y/N), you should know by now not to lie to the God of Mischief.”

In one quick movement, he tossed his sword to the side and attacked her stomach with his free hand. She shrieked with laughter, tears rolling down her cheeks as she squirmed under him. She felt his hold on her wrists loosening, so she hurriedly tugged a hand free and began tickling him back. As expected, he laughed loudly, the cheerful sound mingling with hers and echoing off the walls as they rolled across the floor.

“Miss (Y/L/N), is something-? Oh man…”

They immediately stopped, Loki quickly rolling off her and helping her back on her feet when they noticed a familiar figure standing in the doorway. “Hello Peter, um, Loki and I were just…practicing our sword fighting.” (Y/N) blushed scarlet, embarrassed at having been caught in such a compromising position by the fifteen-year-old.

“Yeah, um…sorry if I interrupted you guys, I’ll…just…come back later, I guess.” Peter Parker’s eyes were flicking nervously between her and his black Converse sneakers, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans and a light blush spreading over his ears.

“Actually, I need to…I need to speak to my brother about our, um, mission tomorrow. I’ll see you later, Lady (Y/N).” After she murmured her goodbye, he gave Peter a nod as he brushed past him and left, his usually pale face turning more and more crimson by the minute.

(Y/N) picked up their swords and placed them back on the weapons rack. “So, what can I do for you, Peter?” During her two months in the tower, she’d only spoken to the teenager once and that was when Tony briefly introduced them; the billionaire had infuriatingly introduced her as ‘Galadriel, but if Galadriel was a total book nerd,’ something he was extremely lucky he said when Loki wasn’t around to hear. The teenager was in awe of her magic and heritage, and she was equally impressed with his incredible knowledge of math and science and how he applied his skills to his intriguing powers.

Peter shuffled from foot to foot and briefly made eye contact with her. “Well, I-I was just talkin’ with Doctor Banner and he mentioned you used to be a librarian before joining the Avengers, and…I was wondering if you could help me write my final paper for my English class?”

“Of course, I’d love to!” She led him out of the weapons room and down the hall to the elevator. “What’s the topic of the paper?”

They stepped into the elevator. “That’s actually what I’m having trouble with. We were supposed to read The Great Gatsby, but I never got a chance to, and now we have to come up with our own topic and finish the essay by Friday, and I’ve got absolutely nothin’.” He sighed and slumped against the wall of the elevator as it rose. “I understand if you’re too busy training for a mission or something, I know it’s a lot to ask but it’s worth like twenty-five percent of my final grade…”

“It’s okay, Peter, I said I’d help you; I haven’t been assigned a mission yet, so my schedule’s wide open.” The doors opened and she led him down the hall to the dining room table next to the kitchen. “Besides, I loved helping people with papers when I was a librarian, and it’ll be nice to continue using that college degree I paid a lot of money for.” Peter laughed and sat down next to her. “All right, since you haven’t read the book and you only have two days to write this essay, I’ll start by giving you a short summary…”

(Y/N) had absolutely no idea how long she spoke for; explaining the plot of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous novel reminded her of how much she missed being a librarian. Not that she regretted joining the Avengers, of course, she just missed being able to use her extensive knowledge of literature to help people. She was glad to see Peter listening with rapt attention, and he even pulled a notebook out of his backpack and began taking notes while she continued. By the time she was finished, he was looking more relaxed than ever.

“Thank you so much, Miss (Y/L/N), that really helped!” He flicked through his notes one last time before turning to a blank page. “I think I’ll write about Daisy; she sounds like a pretty interesting character.”

“You’re welcome, Peter, but promise me you’ll try not to procrastinate next semester? It’s just that it’s so much easier to finish assignments well before the due date…”

Peter grinned. “I know, I know, Aunt May always tells me that! And I didn’t mean to procrastinate this much, it’s just that I suck at English and me and Mister Stark have been workin’ on my new suit a lot and, well, I guess I just got distracted.”

She smiled, but the wheels in her head began turning. “It’s okay, everyone has that one subject they struggle with and everyone gets distracted from time to time. I’m going to go get cleaned up and change, and I expect to see an introduction written by the time I get back, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!” He chuckled and turned his attention back to his notebook.

(Y/N) took a quick shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a green blouse, quickly toweling off her damp hair before hurrying down to the lab. Just as she suspected, Tony was there, snacking and chatting away with Bruce as the doctor peered into a microscope. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) opened the door and entered.

“Hello Bruce, Tony.”

“Oh, hi (Y/N),” Bruce looked up and smiled, whereas Tony only rolled his eyes and continued eating his blueberries. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m actually here to speak with Tony, if that’s all right,” Both men looked at each other in surprise and she turned her attention to the billionaire as Bruce quietly excused himself. “Tony, I know that we got off on the wrong foot when we met and I’m not going to apologize for turning you down when you asked me out, but I am sorry if I’ve been rude to you ever since.”

Tony sighed, popping another blueberry into his mouth before answering. “Well, I’d be an asshat if I didn’t try and follow that up, so I’m sorry for being rude too. Now that that’s over, can we get back to work?”

(Y/N) gritted her teeth but remained calm. “That’s not all I came down here for; I just spent over an hour helping Peter write a final paper for school that’s due in two days. He told me that the reason he didn’t write it sooner was because he’s been too busy working on his new suit down here with you. Is that true?”

“Yeah, so what’s your point?”

“My point is that since Peter listens to you, you should remind him that his education is very important. If he continues putting Spider-Man before his schoolwork, he’s not going to have a future.”

The older man only sighed. “Of course he will; when he decides he doesn’t wanna be Spider-Man, he can always have a job at Stark Enterprises.”

“And what if he doesn’t want a job with your company? What if he decided down the road that he wants to be a lawyer or a firefighter or a photographer? Without an education, he’d never be able to live the life he wants!” Realizing that she was speaking loudly, she took another deep breath and adjusted her glasses. “Tony, all I’m asking you to do is help him be a normal high schooler for as long as possible. I’m not saying you should take his suit away and forbid him from being Spider-Man next semester, just…let him be able to study for tests or hang out with his friends or go out on dates. Just try to help him find the balance his duties between being a high schooler and being Spider-Man.”

Tony only raised his brow and smirked. “Why’re you being so pushy about this, Hermione Granger? Is it ‘cause you’re trying to live vicariously through him? Let him experience the things that you never did?”

(Y/N) felt her anger beginning to build up inside her. “This has absolutely nothing to do with me, Tony, this is about making sure you don’t ruin his life in the long run. Need I remind you that not everyone is as privileged as you are and can make mistakes in life without there being consequences?”

“And need I remind you that if not for my ‘privileges,’ there’d be no Avengers and you’d be stuck in a Hydra lab somewhere being experimented on?”

“Are you going to talk to him or not?”

Tony shook his head, an unusually serious look on his face. “Parker can do whatever he wants to do. It’s his life.”

She nodded, her jaw clenched tightly. “Fine, then, I’ll go and speak to Steve about it.” Giving the man one last glare, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

“You know, you’re starting to sound exactly like your boyfriend did when he tried to take over the world. Must be an alien thing…”

Without a moment of thought, (Y/N) turned around and thrust out her hands, her anger finally boiling over. A familiar purple aura surrounded Tony as she used her powers to swiftly lift him into the air and slam him into the wall behind him. Her unfiltered fury kept him in place, and she was sure to keep his mouth magically shut so he was unable to call out to J.A.R.V.I.S. for his suit. “Don’t you dare speak about Loki! He’s doing everything he can to make up for what he did, and maybe if you started caring about other people besides yourself you’d realize that!”

“(Y/N)!” Bruce appeared in front of her after running in from the hall, his hands raised in a submissive gesture. “(Y/N), you need to listen to me!” When she made no move to attack him, he slowly inched forward. “I need you to breathe, can you do that for me, (Y/N)? Take a deep breath and just relax, find control over your powers!”

(Y/N) struggled to control her breathing as she listened to his words, but just when she felt her muscles and powers begin to relax, Tony stretched his fingers and pressed a button on the metal bracelet he wore. One of his security suits burst through its storage container and aimed its repulsor beams at her; without a second thought, she allowed Tony to fall to the ground in a heap and thrust her hands towards the suit, effectively knocking it into the opposite wall with a swirling cloud of purple magic before it could fire. The suit immediately got up and just as Bruce shouted “No!” it shot its repulsor beams directly at her. Acting on instinct, she pushed Bruce out of the way and crossed her forearms in front of her, deflecting the beams and making them ricochet off her magic and back towards the suit, causing it to explode in a ball of fire.

The entire room shook violently with tremors and the ceiling began to tremble; panicking, (Y/N) thrust her hands upwards and concentrated on stabilizing the concrete with her magic. After a tense moment, the ceiling tremors began to calm down and stop altogether, which was when she realized that the emergency sprinklers were on and the lab was filling up with dark smoke as the fire alarms blared. Where’s Tony and Bruce, she thought, coughing as she stumbled through the wrecked lab in search of the two men.

“Bruce! Tony!” She called out, her voice shaking with worry. “Bruce! To-!” A hand on her arm caused her to turn and gasp; standing before her was a soaked and worried but unharmed Bruce Banner. “Bruce, thank goodness you’re all right!”

“C’mon, I already got Tony, we need to get out of here!” Bruce grabbed her hand and quickly led her through the smoke and smoldering remains of Tony’s suit to the exit. When they finally got out of the lab, the doctor slammed the door behind them and leaned heavily against the wall. It was then when (Y/N) noticed that Tony was laying on the ground, his chest heaving as his eyes stayed focused on the ceiling, and that there was a distinct green tinge to Bruce’s jugular that was slowly fading away.

“Thank you, Bruce.”

“…Fury’s gonna be pissed, isn’t he?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Director Fury looked up from the security footage on his computer monitor with a disapproving frown on his face. After rushing up to the lab and having them thoroughly checked for injuries, Director Fury ‘requested’ (Y/N), Bruce and Tony join him in his office several floors below; (Y/N), who had only ever spoken to the director once before when she first joined the Avengers, was scared out of her mind, something she was sure Bruce knew when he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. She felt guilty that she lost control over her powers and scared of what her punishment would be; she didn’t want to be kicked off the Avengers team all because she’d risen to Tony’s childish bait. I wish Loki were here, she thought as she pulled the blanket the firemen had given her tighter around her shoulders for comfort.

“So, you’re telling me that several S.H.I.E.L.D experiments were compromised, thousands of dollars’ worth of our equipment was destroyed, the Hulk was nearly unleashed and an entire floor of your tower is temporarily condemned all because you couldn’t put a sock in it, Stark?”

Tony smirked. “Sounds about right.”

Deciding she needed to speak up for the billionaire, (Y/N) quietly said, “It’s not all his fault, Director. I went to the lab and asked Tony to speak to Peter about how important his schoolwork is when I should’ve spoken directly to Steve instead. And it was me who lost control and destroyed the lab in the first place, not him.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Miss (Y/L/N), but I’m not pissed off about you losing your cool or even about you two destroying the lab; I’m pissed off because your guys’ petty arguing’s keeping you all from functioning as the team I believe you can be.” Director Fury stood and leaned against his desk. “Now, Doctor Banner and I are gonna leave to check in with the clean-up, and if this stupid-ass fighting isn’t resolved by the time we come back…well, let’s just say that you’re not gonna like the consequences.” The director gave them one last glare and gestured for Bruce to follow him into the hall; the doctor flashed them a sympathetic look before leaving, and (Y/N) flinched as the door slammed shut.

The billionaire lounged casually in his chair, twirling a small screwdriver around his fingers over and over as he made fleeting eye contact with her; he looked sincerer than she’d ever seen him before. “I, ah, guess I should apologize…I’ve been treating you kind of unfairly over the past few months and saying some harsh things, and I’m really sorry about that…”

“Then why say them in the first place?”

His fingers stilled as he looked down at them, remaining silent for several moments before answering. “I guess it’s ‘cause I didn’t like the fact that you’re such good friends with Reindeer G – I mean – Loki.”

His answer took her by surprise. “Why not?”

The older man looked out the window and smiled humorlessly. “Well, for starters, the guy tried to take over the world with a hostile alien army and is responsible for the deaths of at least eighty people over two days, not to mention he threw me out a window and I…well, my heart stopped when I came out of that wormhole and I would’ve been a goner of not for the enormous green rage monster out there. Can you really blame me for not wanting to become best buddies with him or anyone who actually likes him?”

“Yes, I can, at least a little bit.” She ignored the confused look on his face and continued. “Loki’s here on Earth to make up for everything he did; he joined the Avengers, the people he was once sworn enemies with, of his own free will to do good. Loki’s my best friend and I believe wholeheartedly that he deserves a chance to redeem himself for what he’s done, just like Natasha and Bucky. Everyone else in this tower has put the past behind them and accepted him as their teammate except you, Tony. I’m sorry about what happened to you during the battle, I really am, but you can’t change what happened in the past so it’s pointless to keep hyper-focusing in it.”

“I think Capsicle’s been rubbing off on you, (Y/L/N); that was some speech,” Tony chuckled, then grew serious. “But you’re right; I haven’t given either of you a fair chance.”

(Y/N) nodded. “And I’m really sorry I lost control and said those things earlier, it was wrong of me to say them. You’re not a selfish person, Tony, and it’s unfair to degrade you because you happen to be more well-off than most, it’s not your-”

“It’s okay; seriously, I was definitely asking to be talked to like that. And don’t worry, I’ll speak to Peter about balancing being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and a high schooler; Banner’s been bugging me about it, too.” His usual grin returned. “So, can we agree to start over and maybe be friends from now on? ‘Cause you actually seem like a pretty cool person to be around, (Y/L/N).”

“I think I can agree to that, Tony.” She accepted his outstretched hand and shook it, a cheerful smile finally making its way across her face. Not the way I expected this day to go, she thought to herself, but I’m glad we’ve finally made up.

Just then, the door opened to reveal Director Fury and Bruce. “Great, now we all can get back to work. Except for you, Miss (Y/L/N), I want a private word.” Without wasting a moment, Tony and Bruce left the two of them alone. (Y/N)’s hands began to shake, so she started tugging at the sides of her blanket again to keep them occupied. “I believe congratulations are in order, Miss (Y/L/N).”

“C-congratulations?”

Director Fury made his way over to his chair and sat. “You showed real control over your powers today.”

Frowning, (Y/N) stopped fiddling with the edge of her blanket. “But Director, I almost killed Tony, a-and what about almost unleashing the Hulk and all the damage…?”

“The key word there is ‘almost’. Sure, your emotions clouded your judgement, but you were able to reign in your powers and stop yourself from doing anything too serious.” The director’s eye twinkled slightly. “In my book, that’s something that deserves a congratulation and not guilt, Miss (Y/L/N). Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose so, Director.”

Director Fury nodded. “Good. And as for the damages, Stark has more than enough money to fix them within a day, this time with even stronger fortifications. Now, you’d better go change clothes before you catch a cold; we wouldn’t want one of our newest Avengers getting sick, would we?”

Blushing, (Y/N) stood and smiled shyly at the director. “O-of course not, Director. Thank you.” She quickly left the office as he returned to the paperwork on his desk, hardly believing what had just happened; she’d been absolutely convinced that she’d be kicked off the team for her actions. It was kind of Director Fury to give me another chance, and I don’t intend on throwing it away, she thought with determination, hurrying down the hall to the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“To make a long story short, you lost control over your magic, regained control with the help of Doctor Banner before you could kill Stark, destroyed one of Stark’s suits in self-defense and stopped the ceiling from collapsing on all three of you, correct?” Loki asked, his lips already curving into a proud smile. Only minutes before, (Y/N) had found her best friend in a fit of rage and the only thing keeping him from confronting Tony himself was Mjolnir resting on his lap; the moment she entered his suite, however, he ceased arguing with Thor and immediately asked her if she was all right.

Despite her best efforts not to see too far into his actions, his obvious concern over her well-being caused her heart to flutter and her cheeks to redden, but she was quick to hide her feelings by giving him and Thor the full story of what happened; all they knew of the incident was that her and Tony’s argument led to an explosion in the lab, so Loki had immediately assumed Tony was at fault and went into a rage. Luckily Thor had enough foresight to prevent him from doing anything too serious, she thought to herself.

Nodding, (Y/N) relaxed her aching muscles against the cushions of the couch. “Correct, and Tony and I had a good talk. I think we’re going to get along from now on.”

Loki nodded, directing his attention to his brother and gesturing to the hammer. “Now, can you please remove this infernal thing from my lap? I promise I won’t go after Stark.” Although his face was relaxed, she could see a glint of anger return to his emerald-green eyes so she quickly laced her fingers through his slightly colder ones. He looked at her in surprise and the anger seemed to melt away the longer he stared into her eyes. “I swear on our friendship, Lady (Y/N), that I won’t harm Stark in any way.” He glanced back at Thor with a brow raised in expectation. “Now will you move it?”

“All right, all right, don’t get your cape in a twist, brother,” Thor chuckled, standing from his armchair and easily picking up Mjolnir. “I’ll go and see if Banner and Stark require assistance in cleaning up the laboratory. Again, I’m relieved you’re unharmed, Lady (Y/N).” He gave her what he apparently thought was a gentle pat on the shoulder and left before he could see her nearly topple off the sofa.

Rolling his eyes, Loki helped her right herself. “Such a brute, honestly.” He glanced down at their intertwined fingers as his face once again grew serious. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Well, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t feel guilty about losing control…”

To her surprise, Loki’s face broke out into a bemused grin. “You Midgardians are so odd; you pen sayings such as ‘to err is human’, and yet you always blame yourselves for your mistakes. It’s perfectly acceptable to make errors, Lady (Y/N), and you should be extremely proud of the fact that you managed to rectify yours so easily. Trust me, as someone who has fought against and alongside Doctor Banner, regaining control over oneself is no easy feat.”

“You sound exactly like Director Fury, you know, but you’re right.” (Y/N) elbowed him playfully in the side and grinned when he suppressed a giggle.

“Is it really wise of you to begin this again, Lady (Y/N)?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re brave enough to do anything ab-” She was cut off when she was struck on the side of the head by a throw pillow.

Loki burst into laughter, clutching his sides and his pillow tightly as he looked at her. “You should see your face!” He choked out between breaths. “You look like-!”

At that moment, (Y/N) grabbed another pillow and smacked it against his face, giggling at his stunned expression and mussed hair as she adjusted her crooked glasses. “You were saying?”

“Um, Miss (Y/L/N)?” They both hastily lowered their raised pillows and looked at the doorway where Peter Parker stood, once again as red as a tomato, holding his notebook. “I-I, um, need some help on my body paragraphs…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Six

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #peter parker #spiderman #tony stark #iron man #bruce banner #hulk #nick fury #director fury #thor odinson #marvel cinematic universe

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voltimer · 3 years ago

Text

'The Magic of Johto's Level Curve'

(or, 'a leisurely analysis of the singleplayer balance of Pokemon GSC and HGSS')

The Johto games - especially HeartGold and SoulSilver - seem to have a very good reputation. Some often put the aforementioned HGSS into their top 3 or describe it as the core Pokemon experience. I personally agree with this sentiment and HGSS is either #2 or #1 depending on my mood (it usually competes with Black 2 and White 2).

Despite all its praise though, there seems to be an incredibly consistent point raised against it: the level curve. I see it described as unbalanced, janky, and generally bad.

There are two main problems people tend to cite. First is the level progression in Johto itself, with Gyms 5, 6, and 7 not exactly being a smooth progression upwards and then Team Rocket's Archer and the 8th Gym having a notable level spike compared to those last three. Wild Pokemon levels are also usually a lot lower than the major boss fights they are ahead of, making raising new 'mons harder and grinding for boss fights longer. The other problem is Kanto, whose problems can essentially be said to take Johto's levelling issues and ramp them up. The jump from fighting Blue to the Elite Four rematches and Red is also very significant.

What I'm not going to do here is refute that the above isn't true - these level scaling inconsistencies are certainly present. It's also very different to the vast majority of main series entries, whose level curves are more linear and gradual. Gens 5 and 7 even have a feature which multiplies exp gain based on how much lower or higher you are than the Pokemon you defeat which in a way acts like a rubber band around each game's level curve, ensuring you can catch up easily but not go too overlevelled either. Playing GSC and HGSS when the rest of those entries are like that is a bit jarring. Pokemon is so well-known for having quite a formulaic design across its main series and when compared to that formula with regards to level progression and the like, the Johto games do seem a bit off-colour.

What I am going to do though is try to explain why this so-called bad level curve is at the very least not actually that bad, or, if I can convince you well enough, that the Johto games actually have a unique and (what I call) magical singleplayer game design not properly replicated in any other entry. It goes to the core essence of Pokemon's theming, and it fits with the fact that Johto's narrative also happens to put the most focus on those themes than the rest of the series.

When I say the core essence of theming, I mean the very basics of every Pokemon adventure: you, the player, leave home to go on a journey around your region, meeting various people and overcoming various challenges along the way together with your partner Pokemon. Challenges you overcome are all thanks to the bonds you share with your partners and how you raise them with love and care. As you get older, this is the sort of thing in Pokemon that you probably end up taking for granted. It's typical "power of friendship" stuff, and most people will tend to come to conclude through learning about the game mechanics that this sort of thing is superficial and that stats are all that matter in the end. The more modern Pokemon games also have such a big focus on larger-than-life stories with big climaxes featuring the box Legendaries that it's easy to lose this basic level, down-to-earth narrative theming.

Johto is significant for not having any larger-than-life aspects overshadowing its core. Instead, the core takes centre stage. There is no real overarching story besides your adventure. Team Rocket's antics take a sub-plot role but in the end act as a foil to your story, being one of the more major obstacles you overcome. Catching Ho-oh or Lugia is no cataclysm either, but rather a reward for your achievements throughout the game and thanks to your good and pure heart - recognised by the Legendary in question. Moments throughout the game like how you deal with the situation at the Lake of Rage, or the Dragon's Den trial where you're asked questions to test your ideals as a trainer (which, of course, you pass with flying colours) all contribute to this core as well.

The way Professor Oak congratulates you after defeating Lance ties the knot perfectly on the main campaign:

"Ah, <player>! It's been a long while. You certainly look more impressive. Your conquest of the League is just fantastic! Your dedication, love, and trust for your Pokémon made this happen. Your Pokémon were outstanding, too. Because they believed in you as a Trainer, they persevered. Congratulations, <player>!"

These are just examples of the main story events, though,and Johto has a lot more than that. The region is filled with things to do beside the main campaign - Berries/Apricorns, Pokegear calls, the Ruins of Alph and other optional caves, the Bug Catching Contest, and (in HGSS) the Pokeathlon and Safari Zone, just to name a few of the more notable ones. Tama Hero's review of Pokemon GSC talks a lot about this and it's well-worth a watch even beyond the section describing the games' breadth of side content.

Tama Hero also touches upon the supposed level scaling issue, and her response to the complaints is that there is a "sprinkling" of opportunities for small bits of exp gain throughout the game which should help you stay on track in most cases, and where you can't match levels, you can outplay your opponent.

I certainly agree with the latter. It always feels entirely possible to beat bosses at a level deficit throughout Johto. The Johto League is one of the key cases where you'll probably end up at level disadvantage, but I've consistently been able to defeat it with a team of lv 40s on average (so nearly 10 levels behind Lance's peak), and I'm pretty certain that my not-even-10-year-old self did so as well, even though it took me many, many attempts. From various people I've talked to and bits of let's plays I've seen over the years, this seems to be the common experience too. I think only a minority of people have had to grind to match Lance's levels in order to beat him at all. Granted, it might take you a couple of tries at that level disadvantage (or a great couple of tries more, like little ol' me), but that's surely not an unreasonable expectation. The concept of getting stuck at a difficult stage in a game could be called a universal one, and I think most people agree that it's always pretty satisfying to finally surmount a challenge like that. This can even be said about other Pokemon games - Kanto, Hoenn and Sinnoh also all have large level spikes at the end. In fact, at least when it comes to the end of the maingame, I'd argue Hoenn and Sinnoh have a larger level spike than Johto, but they're not considered impossible or anything

Regardless, though: it's certainly possible to win difficult battles in Pokemon at a level disadvantage. Tama Hero argues that the strategy required to do so isn't something the game teaches you very well, but I think this is a tad pessimistic. In the end I think that most wins will just come down to understanding of more fundamental skills that you've probably learned through the course of the game naturally - using type matchups (gyms are all type themed), using moves with stat changes (the earlygame is full of moves like Growl and Tail Whip), using status moves (no doubt you're going to see the effects of Paralysis and Burns throughout the game at least), and apt use of items (bosses always use potions and often use held items). Players also have more control over the battle than the enemy, with the default Switch mode and a huge amount more items available. It's true that the games don't teach you the deeper, untold mechanics very well, but learning about those only unlock even more ways to succeed for the numbers-minded veterans.

On the topic of those deeper, untold mechanics I also want to talk about something which Tama Hero doesn't mention at all - Effort Values, or EVs. Most of you reading will probably know about these by now, but for those who don't, EVs are hidden values which can increase a Pokemon's raw stats by a certain amount based on the other Pokemon they defeat. They were present in a slightly different form in Gens 1 and 2 in the form of "stat exp" but the premise was the same: your Pokemon grow twofold when you defeat Pokemon, by gaining visible exp for levelling up and visibly gaining stats every time that exp bar fills, but also by gaining stats little by little every time they defeat any Pokemon. Your Pokemon's EVs weren't visible to you in-game until Gen 6 with the Super Training graphic, and numerically weren't until Gen 7 where you can press X on the Pokemon's stat screen to show what are called "base stats".

EV optimisation is crucial to competitive play because the stat boosts they give are quite significant. Competitive players will "min-max" spreads, putting as much as possible into 2 stats to maximise strengths and not wasting any on stats they aren't making use of. In maingame playthroughs, though, EVs will usually end up being a balanced spread because you'll invetivably be facing a variety of Pokemon with different EV yields throughout the game. EVs can also be increased with the Vitamin items (Protein, Calcium, etc.) which you find a handful of throughout the game (and can buy at a premium) and can be used to manually raise EVs, though only to a certain point.

In Gens 3 and onward, a Pokemon can have up to 252 EVs in 1 stat, and 510 in total. At Lv 100, 4 EVs in a stat grant 1 point extra to it. For the singleplayer campaign the conditions are a bit different, but if we assume as a standard that by the Elite Four your EV total is maxed out and you have an even spread, your stats will all be up to 10 points higher than they would be without EVs. In Gens 1 and 2, you can actually max out all of a Pokemon's stat exp values but you're unlikely to cap them all for a good while beyond the maingame so we can consider them about the same as in the later gens for this.

But why is this important?

Firstly, the difference EVs make in the above scenario account for what is usually about 5 levels' worth of stats. Depending on your exact distribution, it could be a couple more or less levels' worth in each stat but the bottom line is that they make your Pokemon's strength higher than it may seem based on level alone.

This means that the wild Pokemon grinding that is criticised for being too tedious in Johto as a result of low levels is also better than it seems because even when you don't level up, you're gaining EVs for every one of those you defeat. The stagnant levels in the midgame of Johto also contribute more to your Pokemon's growth than it may seem from the slow level gain. The Pokegear rematches which you gain access to after defeating Team Rocket before Gym 8 may also be a little infrequent, but they also very often give you Vitamins afterwards to add to all of this.

Secondly is what seems to be a fairly unknown fact: in-game trainers do not have any EV spreads. Thanks to the work of speedrunners, we have exact data of enemy trainers' Pokemon to show this. Trainers do have IV spreads based on their "AI level" (more 'advanced' AI levels will have up to 30 IVs across the board) but the difference near-perfect IVs will have on their Pokemon is not as great as the combination of random IV spreads and relatively balanced EV spreads yours.

That 10 level deficit vs Lance is suddenly more like 5 in practice. Some of his Pokemon also happen to have pretty high stats naturally in Gyarados and the Dragonites, and the level deficit will still be slightly present, but once we factor in strategy again, you can abuse their type weaknesses and make good use of items, status and whatever else have you to swing the odds in your favour.

The only way you can find out anything about EVs in Johto is from a NPC in Blackthorn City who gives your Pokemon the Effort Ribbon if they have reached their total of 510, and the only practical way for a player without the technical knowledge to have achieved this is to have spent time throughout the game doing lots of little bits of training - in other words, putting in the effort - to have incidentally capped their Pokemon's EV total. It's only fitting that you find this NPC towards the end of the Johto campaign because it's likely that by this point a couple of your team members will be eligible for the ribbon.

This finally ties back to the point of core theming. EVs are an invisible stat giving your Pokemon an extra edge over their in-game opponents, or, at worst, one closing a gap in strength between them, as a result of all of the time you've spent raising those Pokemon throughout the game. In other words, EVs are essentially the statistical representation of the "dedication, love, and trust" you have for your Pokemon which gets you through seemingly difficult challenges. Levels, then, are only a surface representation of your Pokemon's strength: they create the feeling of an uphill battle, but you can win against the odds by believing in yourself and your partners. It's probably exactly what you thought as the naive and uncynical child playing through a Pokemon game for the first time, and probably one of the ways you made such fond memories of it. In hindsight, this is definitely how it was for me. It is a sort of magic, really.

There is still a big Red elephant in the room, and I do think that the level gap between the end of the Kanto Gyms and Red is maybe too hard to go and beat immediately after even with the power of EVs and such, but Red is by all means a superboss and final challenge of the Johto games, and I don't think it's unreasonable to have to grind for a while to build up for and to finally be able to take his team of Lv 80s on. The same can be said about the Elite Four Rematches in this game and others, Steven in Emerald, or that one Barry fight in Platinum if you do decide to beat the E4 rematches 20 times to make his levels nearly match Red's. If you're setting out to fight a superboss like this, the grind is part of the prerequesites. It's definitely still possible to beat someone like Red with a 10 or even 20 level deficit if you play well, though. I admit, I haven't beaten Red in a long time, but I have beaten Emerald Steven with a ~15 level gap before. Tama Hero also said she has beaten Red with a team of level 50s in Crystal in the review.

I said before that the other games in the series haven't replicated this sort of thing as well. Gen 5 was the beginning of a marked shift away from this design, with its overarching story-driven style and a change to exp gain which would honestly be incompatible with the level curve in Johto. Gen 6, whilst returning to the exp system without level deficit multipliers, saw different means of statistical representations of the 'dedication, love and trust' trio in Pokemon Amie, which can break the game almost as much as the Exp Share when enough Affection is built up. Gen 7 brings back Gen 5's exp system whilst retaining the Exp Share and Affection systems, and actually ends up even diverging from the EV design which went before by having in-game trainers and Totem Pokemon with competitive, min-maxed EV spreads from as early as the Trainer's School. Whilst I am yet to play Let's Go and Sword and Shield, their Exp system with a 'permanent Exp Share' of sorts makes it a huge amount different and from what I've seen and heard, overlevelling is quite easy despite the game being designed around the feature. I really hope that Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl at least return to Gen 6's exp mechanics, or better, reunite us with the held-item version of the Exp Share which doesn't make me feel like I'm cheating whenever I use it.

Before I go too off-topic, though, I should probably return to the original thread of this post to make some concluding remarks. What can't be denied that the way GSC and HGSS are designed may not be for everyone. I know for sure that a lot of people prefer to be able to breeze through a Pokemon game at a brisk pace without many roadblocks, but as someone who in recent years has come to appreciate much slower-paced and immersive singleplayer Pokemon playthroughs, I can't help but love the way GSC and HGSS are designed in the way I've explained, or appreciate their unique identity amongst the rest of the series. Coming to think about this has also shed light on why I adored HeartGold as much as I did when I first played it way back 11 years ago. I poured hours and hours into the game, and as a result, its magical design put me under its spell.

_____________________________________________________________

Though I linked to the references I did use when they appeared, here they are again. Do check them out if they're of interest to you!

Tama Hero's GSC review: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FgtMVKP2T6Y

speedrun.com trainer data for HGSS: https://www.speedrun.com/pkmnhgss/guide/k2zij

speedrun.com trainer data for SuMo: https://www.speedrun.com/pkmnsunmoon/guide/d2683

Tama Hero (YT) is one of the few people I know who actually makes longer-form Pokemon analysis content besides Aleczandxr (also YT), who whilst not being a 'PokeTuber' has made some brilliant analyses of storytelling through setting in Sinnoh, Hoenn, Johto, and just recently, Unova. I did not refer to them here but I can highly recommend their content, at least.

Thank you very much for reading to the very bottom here. This is my first time writing something like this and I appreciate it.

#voltimer longpost #pokemon #gsc #gen 2 #gold and silver #crystal #gen 4 #heartgold and soulsilver #analysis #hgss

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