#i know nothing else but think of the awesome costume possibilities!

[fictionadventurer]

Hope you had a good All Saints Day!

I did, thank you for asking!

[cyberpersonstranger]

𝑲𝑨𝑻𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑰 𝑩𝑨𝑲𝑼𝑮𝑶

𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 !💥! 𝑮.𝑵 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋. 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪. 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂/𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋↴

I think this whole fandom agrees Katsuki is a damn good cook. His specialty foods are omurice and karaage, but he makes amazing soups too. If you ever ask for any of his recipes he'll deny you all the way, but if you ask him to MAKE you something he'll agree after a bit of convincing.

"Tch. Fine dumbass, you're cleaning the mess though."

Constantly cracking his knuckles and neck. He doesn't care who it's in front of or who likes it and who doesn't. He'd prefer doing it in front of people who dislike it though, he enjoys making them annoyed or pissed off. If you ask him about it he'll respond as if everyone cracks their knuckles and neck as much as he does.

"What, do you not crack your fucking knuckles like a normal person?"

Definitely the type of person to fight over who plays aux whilst being in the car. Unless someone has similar music taste to him if anyone dares to even touch the aux he'll start yelling, maybe even making small explosions. I can see him listening to 90s-early 2000s nu metal or rock, most likely I.C.P or Limp Bizkit, possibly Slipknot.

"Start playing Limp Bizkit or else I'll explode you all the way to hell."

If you and Katsuki share the same costume design company (meaning you'll share with Uraraka too) he'll most likely try to boast to you about how much better his costume is. His equipment? Oh so much better, so much more helpful compared to yours. The design? Cooler too, much more awesome than yours.

"Pff my gauntlets are more badass than whatever the hell you have going on."

If you purposely try to get his attention by touching him he'll swat at you. If you even TAP his shoulder prepare for a nice hit on your wrist before you can even take your finger off him. Touching his back to let him know your presence will earn you a hit too, most likely a harsher hit.

"Don't touch me. Idiot."

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 ↴

If you read the platonic hcs, once you start dating Katsuki you quickly learn why he doesn't like being touched, even if it's subtle. He's embarrassed about how much his body sweats because of his quirk and trust me, he'd never ever admit it. You begin picking up on this when you learn he showers multiple times a day. and when he's constantly wiping his hands off with an ashamed look on his face. Even while in a relationship he isn't too keen about being a touched.

"Yeah I shower 3 times a day, so what."

He's the biggest show off you'll ever date. He just got done stretching? He's crossing his arms in that black tank-top, flexing his biceps to you. He's training with you and Midoriya? He's quick to show off his quirk abilities and even quicker sending Midoriya to Recovery Girl. He's prideful about it too, he'll definitely say something if you just stare at him while he's showing off.

"You like my biceps eh? You're eyeing them like you're gonna fucking eat me."

Katsuki is far from being the best at words, and with him not easing in to touch until later in the relationship it's difficult for him to show he appreciates and loves you. He tries to show his appreciation by gift giving. His parents are both loaded, I mean have you seen the Bakugo home? If you mention something expensive you've been wanting he's fast to make sure it's in your hands by the end of the week. If you say you like his yummy food he's suddenly cooking you dinners a few times a week.

"I uh.. made you some miso soup. Here moron."

He actually tries to be nicer to you compared to how he treats Kirishima and the others. Nothing too sappy, maybe a "you look.. nice?" here and there. If you end up smiling from his attempts he's quick to get both defensive and possibly even flustered.

"Why're you smiling at me like that!? That was barely a compliment!"

Sometimes you'll catch him staring at you. While staring, he wonders how you deal with his temper, how snarky he is, how unaffectionate he can be. Once you notice his stare he quickly looks away. If you ask about his glare he'll deny it through and through.

"No I wasn't staring at you, idiot. You're going crazy."

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ↴

𝐓𝐖𝐬: nsfw obviously, CHARACTER AGED UP, praise kink

Despite his tough ass demeanor I feel like Katsuki's a rather caring lover during intimacy. He's always making sure you like what he's doing and makes sure you're okay. Even if you're a babbling wreck he still wants to make sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable.

"This okay with you?" (He's says as he's just pressing gentle kisses against your neck.)

He's not very vocal whatsoever. Going down on his pretty cock? He's biting back moans and only allowing very quiet whimpers to come out of his lips. Taking it so well as he pounds into you? He's stopping himself from groaning by kissing you with such desire. If you tell him it's okay and you want him to be vocal he'll shake his head and deny you.

"No screw that! Moaning is for weaklings I don't need to be loud as hell just to fuck you. "

Katsuki loves praise while in bed. He want's to know he's doing good, he wants to know and that nobody else can make you feel the way he makes you. If you praise him enough he'll roughen up his pace just a bit. Okay, maybe a lot. Praise really gets him going.

"Tell me I'm fucking you nicely, just tell me I'm good god dammit!"

I apologize for the NSFW section, I'm not the best writer for that subject. I hope you guys enjoy this because I'm debating on doing Amajiki or Kaminari next lmao.

[calliethetrekkie]

Star Trek TOS S01E19: Arena

Original Thoughts

"Well now I know which episode those screenshots of Kirk fighting lizard men that are clearly guys in uper cheap costumes come from. So Kirk is forced into a battle to the death more or less against a vicious alien species by another alien species of greater power. Man, they’ve had bad luck with the latter thus far. Despite the cheapness making it hard to take seriously, it was cool to see Kirk get to fight full-on against something since episode 3. Shatner kinda overacted a bit with the dialogue, but was fine otherwise in a more action-oriented episode that had Kirk completely on his own with no help available to him. Kirk’s proven to be quick-witted in the past, such as in the previous episode, but he had nothing but wits and a communicator here, and he was awesome! The Gorn are also dangerous but also display intelligence and cunning like how the one came pretty close to killing Kirk and devising a way to trap him. The Enterprise’s helplessness in this situation is also very strong with even Spock unable to do anything but wait it out. A cheap episode for sure, but a good episode regardless."

Rewatch Thoughts

Wow Callie, way to not even pay attention to the moral of the episode, you dummy!

When going back to rewatch this one, I only remembered two things about it: the Gorn and the scene where McCoy tries to hold Spock's hand while they're watching Kirk struggle. The former cause of that legendary costume, the latter cause... well, me taking in every Spones moment that I can. Otherwise? I remembered virtually nothing else. It sucks that I forgot about most of it, but it's also kind of nice cause I got to experience it again, and DEAR GOD this is so much better than I had remembered!

The first part of the episode is great, from Kirk and McCoy being all giggly and cute in the transport room to them finding the base they were going to utterly obliterate. Only one guy was still alive and it was an active blast zone as well that only our three mains, the dying guy, and one Blue shirt survived. We're left wondering WTF happened and Kirk... well, he doesn't take the incident well. He declares it an invasion and goes after the ship of those responsible, fully intending to return the favor.

It was a little scary TBH to see Kirk so... I guess the word that works best is vengeful. I don't think I've ever seen him this willing to kill an enemy before, even in Conscience of the King he kept his cool overall. I guess given the amount of life lost, even compared to say Balance of Terror, it makes sense. It's not OOC either, we've seen Kirk flare up whenever any of his men are killed/threatened (The Man Trap, Balance of Terror, The Corbomite Maneuver to some extent) so what looks like a calculated attack on this level? And when he's the only one in a position to give pursuit? Yeah, Kirk ain't gonna let that go. He's going to find whoever/whatever did this and stop it before such a thing happens again.

This presents a problem, however, that being how irrational Kirk is being. I don't mean that in a bad way either, it's interesting to see this side of Kirk. He's so determined to pursue this enemy, to take them down, that he doesn't care about any possible explanations about why the Gorn did what they did. Spock tries to express that very concern, but it falls on deaf ears and he pretty timidly falls back into place. Spock's very much been willing to question Kirk before, we saw it in Conscience of the King, but in that instance, he had time to go over everything before choosing to confront Kirk and also discuss it with McCoy, who noticeably stays in Sickbay until Jim gets whisked away. Given McCoy's the one who would most likely speak back and try to talk Jim out of it/appeal to him emotionally, keeping him in Sickbay with the traumatized, nearly dead officer and thus unable to be Kirk's soundboard to vent his emotions to had to have been on purpose. That's not to say that Spock is a mindless follower, he isn't by any means. But at least at this stage of ST, I don't think he has the nerve to argue or defy Kirk without being prepared for it or without McCoy or someone else in his corner to back him up. Plus logically, what can he argue against Kirk when he's not gonna listen? He can't. This is why in cases like Conscience of the King and later in Obsession, you need Spock and McCoy both standing up to Kirk: alone they probably couldn't do much, but together? Jim doesn't stand a chance haha.

Even the crew is pretty mortified by Kirk's recklessness and... for lack of a better word, murderousness. Uhura gives him some mega side-eye when he and Spock are talking, and everyone looks mortified when Kirk keeps making them go up to more and more dangerous Warp levels. They don't go against the orders, but it's very clear that they're unsettled. Kirk is very much presented as in the wrong and dangerously reckless for everyone. He doesn't even really give a damn when Uhura tells him that they're being scanned nor questions why the Gorn are coming to a dead stop when entering the mysterious galaxy, only caring that they have the chance to shoot them down. He is laser-focused on shooting down the enemy, and this bites him in the ass hard as the Metrons, unhappy to have this quarrel brought to their end of the universe, forces Kirk and the Gorn Captian to settle the matter... one-on-one.

Kirk is in a bad position, but it's kind of cool to see him under conditions like this. He has no weapons, no way to communicate with he Enterprise, he has nothing but his own wits. He's against a Gorn, who is much stronger and as Kirk finds out, very much intelligent. That's one thing I enjoy about the Gorn, they are brutish and violent, but the Gorn Captian at least isn't stupid. Kirk mistakes the alien translator that the Metrons outright told him that they were giving him to talk directly to the Gorn. In other words, because Kirk didn't pay close enough attention to the Metrons words, he gave away EVERYTHING that he was thinking and doing to the Gorn, who took all of that, and countered. He even set up his own trap and Kirk survived by the skin of his teeth. Ironically the guy in the cheap lizard costume was the one being smart and calculative, while Kirk... well sorry honey, but you're kind of an idiot during most of this. But it's okay, I know it's cause your two brain cells aren't with you.

Speaking of said brain cells, the Spock and McCoy moments during all of this are so good! I mentioned the hand-chasing bit, which is still fantastic and I'll never get over the fact that De Kelley decided that was perfectly IC to do. But even disregarding that, this is a really good one to watch if you wanna see a good example of their relationship when they aren't bickering. You can REALLY tell that McCoy wants to when he gets to the Bridge and presses Spock for answers, but he actually holds it in. Likely due to the time-pressing circumstances, but still. I mean he even turns the Captain chair so Spock can sit in it properly (my hilarious theory is Nimoy somehow missed it when filming so they had to have De holding it so Nimoy wouldn't hurt himself), how anyone can look at them here and think they hate each other I'll never know. I also love how it's when McCoy appeals to the Metrons to let them see Jim that the Metrons decide to show some compassion and comply. It's an early sign to them that humans aren't just savage killers, and it's Leonard 'The Heart' McCoyt hat starts it.

Spock also doesn't even attempt to hide his emotions here, his uncertainly over what to do and how he doesn't know where Jim is, his fear and worry when seeing Kirk near death, his relief when Kirk starts piecing together what to do with the resources around him, and let's not forget earlier where he decided that going after Kirk in an active blast zone was a perfectly logical thing to do. Seriously, this is also a great episode to point to whenever Spock claims he has no emotions cause... yeah sorry Spock, all you've proven is how Vulcans are giant ass liars.

Honestly, this is such a good episode showing how devoted the Enterprise crew is to Kirk. When Kirk instructs Sulu to abandon the landing party if necessary and to protect his ship, Sulu very clearly does NOT want to do it. He knows he has to comply, but if he has the chance to save Kirk and the others, I don't doubt at all that he would do it. Despite the visible shock regarding Kirk's orders and actions, all of the Bridge are horrified and worried when he disappears and when they see how badly he's doing. Poor Uhura looks like she's about to cry I swear. Kirk has his bad moments, but ultimately he's a respected Captain for a reason and Uhura, Scotty, and Sulu especially know that (and Chekov but he ain't around yet). No one wants anything to happen to him and if anyone on that ship could do something to save him, they would. They're so devoted to Kirk, even when they disagree with him, and I love it.

All that said, in the final stretch the Gorn finally speaks and we find out why they obliterated the Base and everyone on it: because Starfleet were the invaders. The space was the Gorn's and Starfleet suddenly setting up a base there scared them and they concludedconclusion that it was an enemy attack waiting to happen. While they certainly jumped the gun... I don't blame the Gorn too much, to be honest. You see these people that look virtually alien to them settling in without any explanation about where they're form or what they intend, what other conclusion is there to make? I don't believe Starfleet was attempting to do anything malicious, at least in this case, but the fact that they just assumed the space was free for the taking... yeah, not one of your better moves guys. Did that justify the Gorn's actions? It's hard to say since they certainly had an understandable reason, but it still caused massive casualties that I think could have been avoided had the two sides just... talked and mediated things. Still, as McCoy points out, Starfleet was the one in the wrong first, and Kirk just about nearly caused even more unnecessary bloodshed because he didn't at all consider why this happened to begin with.

Given that, it makes sense why the Metrons would see us humans as primitive savages (poor Spock getting lumped in there too haha), especially with Kirk's behavior up to that point. It makes his decision to NOT kill the Gorn Captain, despite having blasted him to near death and having the perfect opportunity, all the more impactful. Throughout the episode, it's all he'd wanted to do, to the point of endangering the Enterprise and everyone on it to get the chance. But having now heard the Gorn's reasonings and being able to look at his own actions, he realizes how wrong he was. The Gorn aren't mindless monsters, they were afraid and were trying to protect themselves from what they saw as invaders, and it was a matter that Starfleet provoked first. He even refuses the Metrons offer to kill the Gorn and instead wants to properly mediate things over. It convinces the Metrons that there's hope for humanity before returning Kirk back to the ship safe and sound.

Given recent times, the moral honestly this a lot harder. The Gorn were motivated by fear, Kirk was motivated by vengeance, and had it kept going I could easily see things escalating into full-blown war. Ultimately though, Kirk decides to be the better man and not continue it. He's seen the destruction that the Gornc caused and likely people he knew got killed, he fought the Gorn Captian face-to-face and both of them were fighting to the death, and acted irrationally all throughout the episode. But Kirk learned and chose the diplomatic route instead. I wish that it were that simple, to realize all sides feelings and decide that there's been enough hatred, fear, and vengeance by everyone. I wish that more leaders chose to communicate and mediate things out, which si certainly more difficult than it sounds but it's still a better option than war and death. TOS is outdated in so many ways, but is also still incredibly relevant in others and I think that this is very much one of those kinds of episodes. It certainly hit me a LOT harder this time around than it did the first time.

This episode is so freakin' good. A great plot with a very well-handled message, great character moments for both our main trio and the Bridge crew, and very well-executed tension. I knew full well how this whole thing ended and I was still worried about if Kirk would make it out, that's how well this episode does in immersing you in it. Even Shatner's over-acting, which tbh wasn't even as over the top as I made it sound in the first viewing, didn't phase me. Also that Gorn suit is perfection and it needs to stay the Gorn's default look, I don't make the rules! I thoroughly enjoyed this one... and hopefully, the memory of it helps me survive the next episode, The Alternative Factor, cause if it's like I remember... yeah I'm not gonna be feeling much joy after it. But that's for then, for now? Arena is great~!

Original Rating: 4/5 Rewarch Rating: 9/10

[My TOS Reviews]

[TOS S1 Reviews]

[epickiya722]

for the ask game!!! gotta ask you about the nation's girlboss, miruko 🩷

And you know I gotta pour my fangirl heart out here for her! 🐇🌙

How I feel about this character: She is everything, she's a queen, she's a goddess, she's a badass, she deserves several awards, people don't appreciate her enough for me, I don't see how anyone could hate Miruko.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: As a multishipper, I do like quite a bit or don't mind a lot of Miruko ships, but my top three ones? Miruko/Burnin, Miruko/Fuyumi, and Miruko/Fat Gum.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: I love how she and Bakugou interacted. It was just too hilarious how they went back and forth with each other.

My unpopular opinion about this character: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN HERE?! Overall, I feel like there are some things that the fandom complains about when it comes to Miruko is just not that big deal to me. Some, not all.

Like leg shots. She kicks, she's gonna have quite a bit of leg shots and it's not all that often she does that leg shots. Mt. Lady had a whole butt shot and I barely saw complaints about it.

Her costume isn't as bad some people make it out to be. I get it. It's a whole leotard, shows off some skin, but at the same time if you have no problem with Vlad King having a whole cleavage window, then what's the issue? Toga fights in a whole skirt and I don't see people complain much about that. The whole team of the Wild, Wild Pussycats fights in skirts!!

Her costume is practical compared to some of the other costume. She doesn't like heavy clothing because she has to move around a lot.

I also think she is probably the most real Pro Hero. She is blunt, honest and she says what's on her mind. She doesn't care to please people and put on a show like some other Pro Heroes. She knows she's doing a job, much like Rock Lock does. Miruko knows its her duty to protect people.

And I said it before, but I find she is much more entertaining than some of the other characters. There are still some things we don't know in canon about her, but I like that.

I find that when characters don't have a lot to go off on, your mind is more open to the possibilities of what could be.

She's a total badass! She only fights with strength, speed and instincts. She doesn't have anything else to work with it and yet took down several Nomus along with High-End one! What other character can say did that with their legs? Probably can throw hands too given how muscular her arms are! I doubt Miruko would just work her her arms for nothing!

One more thing! I don't think Miruko is just what she's on the surface. Look, if other characters can get the "they're misunderstood, deep down there's more something else", so can Miruko.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: A. Vacation. I would have also loved for her to mentored Midoriya (along with some other characters like Ojiro and Kendo). Despite being a minor character, I find she and Midoriya are quite a bit alike besides the kicking thing. I actually wrote a whole post about why I would have love for her to be his mentor!!

Favorite friendship for this character: I don't care what anyone says, I think she, Hound Dog and Vlad King would be an awesome trio of best friends. All three could be equally chaotic and sane. I feel like a friendship with them would allow Miruko to be Miruko and not play "the second/sidekick" to someone.

My crossover ship: Hm... okay, I don't have one. It's not often I think about crossovers to be honest.

FANDOM ASKS

[denimbex1986]

"That's Chris' ambition; is to entertain people. He's managed to kind of fit several different genres into this picture as a, you know -you can say it's a biopic but it's not a conventional biopic, you can say it's a thriller, it also has horror elements to it, so I think he's kind of trojan horsed a lot of these different genres in, into the movie."

"I don't know how you tell this, this story and not have it be disturbing; I mean it's an incredibly disturbing story. It's, it's kind of amazing - the second you start to engage with it, you think like: 'Why am I, why am I - how am I thinking about anything else ever? Like, how are we getting on with our days and how have we been for the last eighty years?'"

"I think he was very aware that what he was saying was the absolute truth, and when you say a line like that when it's the truth, you just completely commit to it. And it was a rage that he felt that these scientists - he felt like they were children in a lot of ways; they were brilliant, but Groves was brilliant as well. He, he needed these guys but they were so different in their world philosophies right - the military was, was absolutely obsessed with secrecy and compartmentalization and everything's on a need-to-know basis. And that was for a very good reason; there were spies, there were people trying to steal this information, this was about the life and death of the human species, this - there's nothing more important. It is the most important thing to happen in the history of the world."

"Yeah, it was manifold; I did, I had about six months; I could, I would if I could've, taken more. There's so many different elements, you know, there's the, there's the, there's all the stuff that exists online - all the videos of him; there's so much, texts and books and academic pieces on him. But ultimately, the script is your primary resource, always. I kind of started from the outside in with him; you know like, we really wanted to get the silhouette right and the voice right and the, and the physicality right - a lot of work with hair and make-up and costume. So it was a long process, but I worked very, very closely with Chris the whole time."

"He's mesmerizing."

"One of the best performances I've ever seen; it really is phenomenal. And the only time I think you get performances that are that good is when a director is that clear about they need and an actor goes there and is that locked in for months and months and months. And the two of them together, watching them build this character, it's why the whole movie works."

"So moving."

"Yeah and it's, it's, just - it's, it's an awesome piece of work and it's - it was, it was really, really a privilege to watch the two of them."

"He's so rare because, you know, he's - he's as delicate as he is powerful. You know, he's just an extraordinary actor and Oppenheimer was enigmatic and he wasn't - there was an ambiguity to the character that Cillian managed to laser into and it just keeps you leaning in. I can't imagine what a sort of titanic undertaking it must have felt like for him, and it's why he never hung out with us. He was just in room eating almonds -"

"We invited him to dinner every night and he never came once."

"I just don't think he had anything left in the tank."

"He had nothing left in the tank. He also wasn't eating because he was losing weight; I mean -"

"Yeah."

"I mean, Cillian's a naturally thin guy, but he had to look even, yeah, even thinner."

"Oppenheimer didn't eat; he just smoked cigarettes and drank, and I don't think Cillian drank - "

"Nor, nor did he smoke, he just didn't eat anything."

" - and I don't think he smoked cigarettes, he just - he just ate almonds."

"Oh man, I mean it's - it's a little overwhelming really. I mean, you know, we've known each other twenty years, we've made six films together, but you know; to be given the chance to play the lead in one, of of the greatest directors in the world, in one of their films, which I think it could possibly be his magnum opus, it's - it's a gift man. A total gift. Yeah."

"Yeah well apparently the people that are seeing it are kind of devastated and speechless and then, and then everyone really wants to talk about it. And I had; I watched it - I didn't watch it on IMAX - I will, but I had the same experience. You know, I was kind of winded and; because it kind of grabs you by the throat from the beginning and then it just doesn't let up. I love that in, in films; that's what I want from films - is that it alters you in some way emotionally."

"I think the decision that Chris made to tell it, even - even when you read the script, it was written in the first person - so instead normally you read a script and it's like: 'Oppenheimer walked across a room, Oppenheimer did this', but it, it was all like: 'I did this and I saw this, and then I saw him across the room and then the lights started hitting me' and like - it was just so traumatic being him. And you felt that when you read the script, and you feel that when you watch the film; it's so internal."

"Well it was a shocker to read it, you know, because it was all written in the first person. I'd never read a script like that before, so I knew then that it was gonna really; he wanted to put the audience very much kind of on Oppenheimer's shoulder, to have them right there to exp - to be experiencing what Oppenheimer's experiencing as, as we go through the film; which is an amazing device. You know, and then, he then uses the kind of objective through Strauss' character, which is used - I think he's used that device in Mem, in Memento again, in the past, but I think it's, it's very clever; again in telling what could be a conventional biopic, he tells it in an unconventional and stimulating kind of way."

[mister-e-filman]

DC Earth-32505

Issue #4: Revelation

At first nothing happened until the sounds of aged gears started turning. Every sound then led to a circular hole being opened right in the middle of the barn that made the floor shake, a hole that led to a secret hidden headquarters. "Oh cool! This is be-awesome!" Rhino squeaked in excitement.

"Yes it is Rhino," Bailey responded with all eyes turning to him in confusion to where he pointed to a hearing-aid-looking-type-device. "Intergalactic communicator. It was mass-produced by your father, Penny." He held out his hand saying, "Shall we?" Penny hesitated before nodding and taking his hand and stepping onto a tiny elevator that lowered them all into the hidden headquarters which was filled with all sorts of early 2000s computers and hardware mixed with more futuristic tech. One monitor had a loading bar and the words "upload complete" on it. Penny headed for it and clicked on the what had been uploaded, which turned out to be a video of her father during Steppenwolf's rampage. "Test. My name is William Forester. Whatever lies will be told about me... ...l would like the world to know the truth. Luthorcorp was already a leader in genetic research...

...when Lex Luthor made a deal with a foreign military organisation...

...to continue funding my research. And l discovered what they were going to use it for. Weapons. Biological weapons, of course. So l refused. And now, to eliminate me from the picture... ...Lex Luthor has falsified evidence against me... ...in order to take control of my work. But it doesn't matter, because there's something else... ...that Lex doesn't know. The human DNA... ...that l implanted in the orb, apart from Rosie's own DNA of course... ...was my own. Which means that without me... ...without my bloodline... ...Luthorcorp can never replicate or continue my experiments. l have destroyed as much as possible from the archives. But l didn't have time to stop Luthor's meeting with Steppenwolf and Bolt. So as a scientist, my choice is very clear now. l either have to disappear or... die. l have to get as far away from here as l can. But as a father... ...it means l may not see my little girl again. And nothing is as important to me... ...as my daughter, Penny. Nothing in this world. But I have a responsibility... ...to protect this world of ours from what l've created... ...and to protect her from what l know Luthor is capable of. People will say l am a monster.. ...for what l've done all thanks to his lies and deceit. And maybe they're right. l always thought that l'd have more... ...time. l'm so sorry." The feed then ended with an uncomfortable air of silence. Penny then shook her head and proceeded to press a button that revealed an armored-superhero costume: it was a light-weight, highly durable armor for her conflicts against enhanced individuals such as Superman

and Aquaman.

The armor appeared to be flame retardant, as it seemed to be able to survive an explosion from a bomb, however the tensile strength of the armor seemed to have its limits; like it could be ripped apart by Superman. The armor also didn't seem to be durable enough to endure the trauma of being impaled with the razor-sharp spikes from her Sky-Stick by anyone. Penny and the others took a closer look at Dr. Forester's gift with Bailey correctly guessing the components.

"Okay, so I'm guessing that you'll be able to ride this hi-tech snowboard-shaped glider I'm calling the Sky-Stick. It looks like it can fire rockets, protrude two razor-sharp spikes, as well as other things. Now as for the super-suit, it looks like it's in the level four of durability, and it looks like a flame-thrower is in the left arm, retractable arm blades on both arms that look like they can be projectiles, skydiver wings, and an ionic sword. Wow, your father really DID think of everything, all for you, Penny," Bailey finished as he put his hand on his girlfriend's cheek. The look in her tear-stained eyes was the look he hadn't seen in 8 years. A true genuine understanding of everything that he had told and shown her. "So my dear, what would you like to be called?"

[incorrect-koh-posts]

Baldwin for the send me a character 💫

Of course! Let me present the tea on everyone’s favourite leper:

favourite thing: his altruism. Baldwin always puts other people and his kingdom first, no matter how fragile his health is and how badly things could go for him if he isn’t careful. His tendency for self-sacrifice makes him both a great king and a very sympathetic (and badass) character, but it also has a heart-breaking quality to it in the sense that he seems to think he has nothing else to live for or look forward to. His role as the king he thinks he must be overshadows all else.

least favourite thing: the leprosy that he's a bit too perfect personality-wise. I know much of it comes down to his sadly very limited screen time in the film, but even in fiction and fanfic, Baldwin sometimes just seems a little too angelic for my taste. He’s clever, he’s wise, he’s gentle, he’s an accomplished warrior and commander, he’s tolerant, he’s kind, he’s witty … you get the gist. I’m not saying that he isn’t or shouldn’t be awesome, because he is, but our man could do with one or two flaws, as far as I’m concerned.

favourite line: "None of us know our end, really, or what hand will guide us there." I mean, all of Baldwin's lines are great and endlessly quotable, but this one has a sweet, wistful, carpe-diem quality about it that really resonates with me.

BrOTP: Baldwin & Salah ad-Din. I love, love, love their dynamic – how respectfully they treat each other and what wonderfully deep conversations they could have if circumstances were just a little different. Their personalities complement each other really well, I think.

OTP: Not sure. At the moment I'm quite fond of the idea of Baldwin x Balian or Baldwin x fem!Balian because I quite like their character chemistry, but I’m still somewhat undecided about the logistics of the whole thing. But in theory Baldwin is quite shippable in general, which opens up a great amount of possibilities yet to be explored. I’ve also encountered some nice Baldwin x Salah ad-Din fics in the wild.

NOTP: Baldwin x Raymond, for reasons I mentioned before.

random headcanon: If I ever were to write a daemon AU for KoH, Baldwin's daemon would be a dove. Not only would it match his aesthetic really well, but the biblical reference would also fit the goal he dedicated his life to quite nicely. Perhaps I'll write a snippet one day.

unpopular opinion: I would probably like him better if the film had presented him as a little less angelic and a little more human.

song: No Light, No Light (in your bright blue eyes) - Florence + The Machine. Or Age of Kings - The Mountain Goats.

favourite picture: These two because they're fancy. 2000s character design really peaked when the KoH costume department created Baldwin's look and you can pry that opinion from my cold dead hands.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 6: Let’s Play a Game (Overprotection)

Prev

AO3

Marinette ended up not staying for dinner. She talked to Bruce for a little bit, but he had to leave for some WE emergency and Marinette wasn’t really up to bonding with the boys- her brothers- yet. But that was fine. It wasn’t like she was desperate to get to know the man and wouldn’t be able to after this trip because she had to stay in Paris because of Hawkmoth. No, she wasn’t upset. Not at all. It didn’t hurt her feelings. Nope.

---

Walking into Madame Soleil's Wax Museum with Adrien by her side, Marinette is hit with a major wave of deja vu. And not a good deja vu. No, the memories of the last time she was in a wax museum with Adrien were awful, humiliating and- feeling a hand wrap around hers pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. Glancing down, Marinette tries (and fails) to hide her grin. Adrien is holding her hand. Adrien is holding her hand!

“Hey Marinette!” A familiar voice calls, a hand squeezing her shoulder, making Marinette squeal and whirl around.

“Dick? What are you doing here?” She asks, frowning at the boy- her brother- as he stands there with a huge smile.

“Well I heard that a new wax figure is being revealed today, and I thought I might come and see it.” He says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Really? Who?” Adrien asks. Dick’s smile twitches slightly as he glances at Marinette, making her frown. Was he seriously about to play the overprotective big brother card? Really?

“Jagged Stone.” Dick finally says, glancing at their entwined hands. Marinette tries hard not to roll her eyes. Come on, her crush is finally holding her hand and her brother (who she’s known for a day!) is seriously trying to ruin that for her?

“Oh cool! Do you think he’ll come to Gotham to see it, Mari?” Adrien asks.

“I think he’s definitely scheduled to make an appearance in Gotham in the next couple days. He’s picking up his new suit in person.” She whispers, grinning at the idea of seeing her “Uncle” in person again. He’d been touring for several months and she hadn’t been able to see him for awhile, just the occasional video call.

“So! What figures did you guys want to check out first?” Dick asks, wedging himself between the two and forcing Adrien to drop her hand. Glaring at her brother, Marinette scoffs when Dick just smiles innocently.

“The hall of heroes and villains sounds cool.” Adrien suggests, looking around Dick to see Marinette.

“Hmm. Okay, but if the Nightwing figure is in his disco costume, I reserve the right to melt the statue.” She says, frowning at the choked noise Dick makes. “Are you okay?” She adds.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine. What’s 1so bad about that costume?” He asks, a hurt expression on his face.

“Have you even seen it? The only worse costume is Riddler’s.” Marinette says, adding a shudder for dramatic effect. Walking past the local celebrities room and the pop stars room, Marinette’s eyes widen as their small group walks into the hall of heroes and villains. Walking away from Dick and Adrien, she’s almost instantly drawn to the Batman figure. She reads the little plaque about the artist and frowns, turning to Dick who had moved to stand next to her.

“I thought it’d be taller.” She says, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion when Dick starts choking on air, gasping for breath as broken chuckles flood out of him. “Ookay then.” She mutters, turning and walking back towards the villains. Nightwing was, luckily, depicted in his most recent costume. As was Robin. Which meant the only real fashion tragedy (besides the god awful helmet Red Hood wore) was the Riddler. Pulling her sketchbook out, Marinette circles the wax figure, occasionally making notes and sketching out slight adjustments to the man’s costume.

“His costume might be terrible, but it’s still better than half of the akumas.” Adrien whispers, leaning over her shoulder. Marinette looks up at him, eyes wide as her face heats up with a blush.

“I, uh, um, yes. Yeah.” She says, trying not to wince at her lack of speaking skills. “I mean, at least we can rule out any fashion designer in Paris as Hawkmoth. Because if Hawkmoth was a designer, that’d almost be a bigger crime.” She adds, smiling as Adrien laughs.

“Good to know you’re not moonlighting as Hawkmoth, m’lady.” He says with a mock bow. Marinette snorts, then covers her mouth, embarrassment rushing over her. Adrien just shakes his head, wrapping an arm over her shoulders.

“In case you forgot, we’ve definitely seen each other at our most embarrassing.” He says, making her groan.

“Oh god, no. I tied us up with my yoyo!” She moans, turning and burying her face into his chest so she doesn’t have to look at him anymore. Her face heats up more when she feels him chuckle and wrap his arms around her.

“I’ve always thought that was paw-sitively adorable.” He says, laughing when she groans again. She pulls away slightly, looking up at him with a timid smile. He smiles back, starts to lean forward and-

“Hey guys! I heard they’re about to unveil the Jagged Stone figure. Come on, let’s go! Don’t wanna miss it.” Dick says, grabbing each of their hands and pulling them towards the exist (and successfully separating them again). Marinette tries not to glare at Dick. She’s about to have one less brother.

---

Dick Grayson wasn’t used to having a little sister that he could protect. Sure, he had a little sister. Cas was awesome, but she could also kick his ass without breaking a sweat. No, he’d never had a little sister to protect. Someone he could watch out for and support. But now….now he has Marinette. And he’ll be damned if he lets some little punk take advantage of his little sister. Ignoring Marinette’s glare, he positions himself right between her and...the boy. He’d need to ask Timmy to do a background check on the kid later. Especially if he thought he was good enough for Marinette.

“So are you guys big Jagged fans?” He asks, trying to pull the two back into a conversation. He narrows his eyes at the smile the kid gives Marinette. It’s too...adoring. Too much. She’s only...what, fourteen? Much too young to date. Especially this kid.

“Mari’s a bit of a fan, I think. But, personally, I much prefer Jagged’s designer.” He says, and Dick turns to him, missing the way Marinette’s face turns bright red.

“Are you talking about MDC? I love them! Their work is amazing! And Jagged Stone says that he’ll never have another designer. I heard that there’s a possibility of them opening their commissions again. God, I hope they do. I’d do anything for something made by MDC.” Dick rambles with a wide smile, deciding to ignore the kid for a minute in order to ramble about his favorite designer. As the group walks into the pop star room, Dick steps back and glares at the kid. He’d stepped just behind Dick and was apparently trying to hold Marinette’s hand again. Not on his watch. No siree. No one’s gonna hurt his little sister.

---

Bruce sighs, running his hands through his hair. He’d been checking the street cameras in Paris, trying to figure out what time Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol so that he can set up a meeting. Try and offer help, or maybe even offer to take control of the situation. Anything to get rid of Hawkmoth. But instead, it was like the heroes didn’t exist. He’d read reports of the heroes patrolling before, so why were they so quiet this week? The only akuma from the past couple days wasn’t even taken care of by both of them. Ladybug did it alone, and seemed worse for the wear when she came out of the battle. Where was Chat Noir? And why did it seem as though they had gone into hiding?

---

Marinette was five seconds away from committing her first murder. Okay, probably her only murder, unless her other brothers decide to be as involved in her love life as Dick is. Because Dick won’t have the chance to be a problem for much longer. Because Marinette was honestly going to kill him. Right as she turned to finally yell at him, and tell him to knock it off, the lights flickered. She pauses her tirade, glancing to gauge Dick’s reaction to see if this is normal. And if his worried glances back at her are anything to go by, this is not normal.

“Let’s play a game! Solve my riddles and you all can leave freely, but make a mistake and someone will pay greatly! Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?” A man’s voice asks, Marinette frowning as the Riddler walks in, a wide smile on his face. Ten goons walk in behind him, all of them carrying guns. She was used to the akuma attacks almost every day, but didn’t Gotham’s rogues have anything better to do than attack every place her class went? With guns? Come on. Riddler smirks and points at Adrien with his cane.

“A match.” She blurts out, ignoring Dick frantically shaking his head. If nothing else, she should be able to work with Adrien to get everyone out. But she knew his style. And riddles weren’t really his thing.

“Oh goody. We have a volunteer. Tell me, what has to be broken before you can use it?” Riddler asks, stalking towards her. Thinking for a second, Marinette tries to suppress a smile.

“An egg.” She says. Riddler narrows his eyes.

“I have 13 hearts, but no lungs or stomach. What am I?” He asks, Marinette frowns, running through possible answers in her head.

“A deck of cards.” She finally says.

“Buzzy, come over here and hold onto our friend.” Riddler says, gesturing to one of the goons. The man comes over and grabs Marinette’s arm roughly, she winces. That’ll definitely bruise.

“I answered your riddles.” Marinette says, deciding that now's as good a time as any to start distracting the man.

“And how did you answer them so quickly?” He asks, the frustration clear on his face.

“What do you mean? Were they supposed to be hard?” Marinette taunts, ignoring the choked sound Dick makes behind her. She knew what she was doing. She did. She had to.

“Why you-” Riddler starts, stepping forward and pulling his hand back as if to hit her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Marinette waits for the slap. The slap never comes. Opening her eyes, Marinette’s jaw drops when she sees the Riddler’s fist held tightly in Dick’s hand.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” He says lowly, a dark look on his face. Well that was unexpected. Riddler opens his mouth, probably to start spouting more riddles or other nonsense, when the goons blocking the exits drop. Noticing Red Robin and Red Hood picking off the other goons, Marinette throws her elbow back into the gut of the goon holding her. Not waiting for him to recover, Marinette stomps his foot and twists out of his grip. Grabbing his arm, Marinette manages to yank the man off balance and toss him to the ground. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump back and prepare to hit the person.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay ma’am.” The voice attached to the hand says. Marinette whirls around, ready to tell off the person, but immediately stops when she sees Red Robin.

“Sorry!” She yelps, jumping away from him. And she was too. She was determined to hit the person who grabbed her shoulder, so locked into battle mode, but she had managed to stop herself. Glancing around the room, Marinette notices Dick talking to Red Hood, his usual smile back on his face. That’s good. That’s normal, that’s right. The sudden blaring of the akuma alarm makes Marinette want to scream in frustration. Really, right now? It’s definitely already dark in Paris which means- Chat Noir. Ignoring everyone else, Marinette runs over to Adrien and grabs his hand.

“Akuma?” He asks, his voice low. She nods and tugs him towards the bathrooms, unaware of the eyes following them out.

Next

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[h2bakugou]

Hey! i just wanted to say that i love your writing. So this may be a little complicated if thats okay but i had cancer when i was younger and i would like to see if you could write about kirishima and bakugo (separately) crush being hit by a quirk that makes them younger again or something like that and them seeing their crush in a horrible state like they cant walk anymore . IM SORRY if this is complicated you dont have to do bakugo if its too much.

a/n: hi! tysm <3!! of course, i hope you're doing well hun !! if there's anything you need me to change/edit within this please let me know!!

headcanon: them reacting to their s/o being hit by a quirk that makes them the age when they were sick

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing, angst

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s been a tough day on the field, especially with a villain attack appearing from seemingly nowhere. It’s caused a mess, and everyone’s on edge.

Most noticeable though is Bakugou. You’re fighting one on one with this villain and he doesn’t doubt your abilities by any means, but you’re worn down and tired, your movements are slower, you’re starting to reach your limit.

And all it takes is one hit from this nameless villain’s quirk and you’re down for the count.

Bakugou’s tired of fending off goons and dashes over to you, taking down the villain to the best of his ability.

But what he doesn’t expect is when he turns back to you, instead of seeing you, he sees the pile of your clothes covering a much smaller version of you.

You’ve shrunk?

No, you’ve gotten younger. 

Just barely lifting your head, you start to cough. 

“Shit, hey get someone over here!” Bakugou shouts to one of the other students, hoping an adult could rush over and try and help-not that he needed it, but he was worried.

It wasn’t long before another pro hero was wrapping your younger self up in your clothes.

If Bakugou had to guess, he’d say you were around five to eight years old.

You sat in a hospital bed for a few hours before Aizawa finally arrived, noticeably worried about the state you were in. You didn’t even remember the people standing around you.

“They’re in critical condition. If this age regression quirk has sent their body back in time, we’re going to be in a bit of hurry to get them back to their normal state. They’ve had a history of medical concerns.”

Bakugou has to step out of the room, supported by Kirishima and Kaminari as he tries not to seem like he’s heavily affected by the state your in.

“They’re going to be fine, if it’s just some sort of temporary affect, they’ll be back to their healthy old self soon!” Kaminari tries to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t seem to help.

When you’re released from the hospital to return back to campus, you’re placed under surveillance.

You’re much younger now, and you can barely walk, it’s tearing everyone apart. All of your friends stop by whenever they can, trying to see if you remember them which usually never works.

Bakugou stops by often as well, normally at night when no one else comes around.

He talks about little things like All Might and always brings in his little toy figurines that he’d swore he’d never show anyone.

You laugh and smile, waving them around making all sorts of noises all while ignoring the fact that Bakugou is nearly in tears at the sight of you.

The effects last two weeks. It’s the longest two weeks of everyone’s lives, most importantly Bakugou’s.

When you wake up and see Bakugou sound asleep beside you, his head laying on the medical bed you’d been sleeping in for the past two weeks, you’re confused.

“Hey, Katsu’?” You ruffle his blonde hair and he’s up instantly.

He’s embracing you in the tightest hug known to man, surely putting All Might’s to shame.

Kissing you too, he can’t stop himself from holding you and mumbling about how worried he was about and how he’ll never let something like that happen to you again.

“I never dabbled in my past much, but I’m doing much better now, I’m sorry I gave you a scare.” You rub his cheek, wiping away a few rare tears that fall from his crimson eyes.

“I love you so fuckin’ much.” He utters, his lips pointing upward in a smile.

“I love you too.”

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

The fight is surely rigged. There’s no way you’re going to win, not alone anyway. 

Kirishima is making his way to you as fast as he can, but when he gets to you it’s far too late.

You’re cowering before him, your costume baggy on your visibly smaller and weaker frame, tears pouring from your eyes as your body strains to stand upright.

The villain is gone, but not too far gone that they don’t get captured by patrolling pros on the scene.

Rushing you to the nearest hospital to undergo some sort of evaluation, all Kirishima can do in the meantime is wait alongside Kaminari, Mina, Sero, and even a slightly less angry Bakugou.

When the nurse returns to explain your situation, Kirishima is mortified.

Refusing to leave your side until he’s forced to by Mina to take care of himself because it’s what you’d tell him to do, all he can do is wait and hope that you’ll get better.

You can’t walk without having someone help you, and the worst part is, you don’t even recognize him.

Kaminari takes the role of making you smile and laugh while Kirishima adds throws in random memories turned into stories hoping it’ll jog some part of your memory connected to how old you actually are.

But nothing seems to work and all you can do is sit in wonder as he tells you about how present-pre age regression quirk you is really super awesome.

After being scolded by Mina on day one, Kirishima manages to take care of himself, but he spends most if not all of his free time with you. 

In a way it’s domestic, imagining the possible inevitability of raising a family with you, you’d always jokingly said he was great with kids.

Taking care of you is nice, he enjoys doing it now, buying you little gifts, helping you get something off a high shelf or just being a gentleman for you.

Holding the door for you, carrying your bags even when you yell at him not to and he swears a part of you has been inspired by Bakugou.

After the first week, he begins to get settled in, thinking if this is going to last a while, he wants to help however he can.

Aizawa ushers him to pay attention to studies and that you’re strong enough to power through this, and he understands, he believes wholeheartedly you are.

But part of him is sort of upset. He’d never known that you used to be like this. He hoped when it was all over you could explain.

And sure enough, after two weeks, you wake up, as if those two weeks had never happened.

You don’t seem to have much recollection of the two weeks, only a few hours on the last day seem to make it through to you.

Kirishima greets you with a hug and thousands of kisses.

He doesn’t let you go for hours, weeping into your embrace as he begs you to never scare him like that again.

You console him all while telling him about your past and the history of your medical condition and he understands. He’s thankful you’re where you are now, and he’s so happy to see back to your normal self again after those two weeks.

“I stayed with you as much as you could.” Kirishima whispers, kissing your cheek. Kaminari lifts his head up and starts laughing.

“Yeah, he was so worried about you. You’ve got yourself a keeper.” He jokes, making Kirishima’s cheeks match shades with his hair.

“I love you.” You mumble against his skin, hugging him tightly.

“I love you too.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[spacejellyfish3]

the utena show’s ending is extremely powerful on its own yes but utena’s final apology? to anthy of not being able to be her prince in the end never stuck right with me. and I think that’s cause in a sense it’s still centering the prince as important, as aspirational, that maybe it could have been a better ending for them—that utena could’ve survived if she were her prince. and of course I might be reaching with that possibly probably but I still wanted to air that opinion out (maybe someone else has similar misgivings as I do and can expand on it so there).

but the real problem for me is that show anthy still very much places utena as a savior figure, as her “prince”. while I live for anthy’s savage verbal takedown of akio as a powerless coward trapped in a Sisyphean game of pretend for all eternity but even so she herself is still shown to subscribe to the dogma of the heroic prince. even visually anthy’s idealization of utena is displayed with her dressed in pink. this visual marker is carried over into the movie with anthy’s bridal gown changing from red (which makes sense since anthy is indian coded and an indian bride’s sari is traditionally red) to white and pink, connoting her as utena’s princess.

movie anthy’s placement of utena onto a pedestal of princehood also often extends beyond subtext and into the text itself, a key example being the scene right before utena’s famed car wash makeover where anthy says “you’re the prince of the academy now, every miracle and all eternity is yours…so long as you stay in this world.” anthy believes that you can only exercise power, have power, be happy, be free within the system, and it’s important to note that there is very much truth in that notion but this power I’m referring to is that of self actualization, the power of maturity. yet…utena rejects that noise, she says no, she says fuck that let’s go be free in the outside world.

if the show is about breaking away from the confines of abuse, then the movie is about breaking away from the confines of trauma. it’s extremely powerful when anthy takes the steps out of ohtori; it’s hard even just to find the strength to leave an abusive situation let alone actively do it. but the pain remains, trauma doesn’t disappear it’s haunting it’s ghostly sometimes literally manifesting. both movie utena and anthy are hounded and bound to apparitions they’ve forgotten are actually dead.

touga died years ago sacrificing himself for nothing in the end and became princely an ideal to strive for and utena has to come to grips with that and she basically says no you don’t control me my grief my trauma does not control me thank you for being my prince but I can’t be a prince I don’t want to be it’s not real

anthy is real

I am real

akio is abuse he is torment and toxicity he is anthy’s monster, maybe a monster that she created once upon a time but he chose to perpetuate his monstrosity. and when confronted with his actions he couldn’t face it he hurt her more made it her fault for the hurt he caused her and he died he’s dead he’s gone but he remains in the ground anthy buried him beneath the roses. the rose garden is a prison she is the only one held captive by the roses and it grows up up high up but it’s still there the roses remain he’s still there in her mind and he’ll never leave but he’s not in control. he’s dead, he’s been dead for so long he remains but he’s not real and he’s no prince because the prince was a lie that never existed it’s not real

utena is real

I am real

and they blaze past everything. there are obstacles but there are friends too who aren’t there yet but they’re on the path they’re trying they’re growing they have high goals they want to reach and someday they will but you can now. it’s anthy’s story it’s anthy journey and it’s hard of course it’s hard

but they break free. they break the castle so huge so big so impossible but it wasn’t real

it’s just rose petals flying in the wind

akio doesn’t control her and though it might be so that she and utena can’t make it outside, that they have to continue as princesses stuck in the role that people give them but they don’t have power over them, they’re free and no longer draped in any costume or performance, they’re truth out of her well to shame mankind and that’s fucking awesome. they might not make it, they might fail like the broken down husks of those who came before them, but they can try they’re free to try. they have the power to try. to revolutionize the world. to revolutionize their world.

“the outside world has no roads, but you can always build new roads.”

I binged the entire series and the movie last year around March maybe, sometime right before quarantine…and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, analyzing it, since. I’m pretty sure it radicalized me and honestly I’m glad it did. revolutionary girl utena speaks truth to power and exists as a creative work in a way that I don’t think anything else has or will. it’s fundamentally itself but simultaneously thrives on external interpretation. it’s both an enigma wrapped in a mystery and as obvious and unsubtle as a trainwreck. above is my favorite quote of the entire franchise because it’s so simple but so profound—you could say it’s my equivalent of “what is grief if not love persevering”.

there are no roads to follow, but you’re open to build your own path your own way. no one defines you but you and that’s simple that’s kinda naive but what’s wrong with that. I’m not sure who originally said this or stated this proverb or whatever, I know I read it somewhere but I’m not sure where, and I’m definitely paraphrasing but

adults are so quick to say the world is unfair and be done with it, but a child would look at that and say: why not make it fair? that’s really simple and it’s innocent of course but it’s still true. why can’t we make things fair, because we definitely could it’s not impossible.

I’m not sure how to end this post—I definitely should cause it’s plenty long already—but rgu is highly foundational to me on a visceral level. it’s helped me in ways shifted me in ways I can’t describe and I can’t really imagine myself now existing without its influence. the best way I could describe its impact its power its importance really boils down to

the outside world has no roads, but you can always build new roads.

words to live by.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 7

@pocketramblr

.

"Hey, Midoriya?" asked Uraraka, after Aizawa passed out a costume revision assignment and feigned passing out.

"Yes?" said Midoriya, knowing that his eyes were preturnaturally wide and fine tremors were running through his body. He was a wreck.

"Are you okay? Why did you come to class with Mr. Aizawa?"

"And what's that you're holding onto?" asked Kaminari.

"Um," said Izuku. "I was sort of... abducted by the support department? But in a nice way... And they gave me this grappling hook."

"Wow, cool! I didn't know we could get stuff like that from the support department."

"You should really read the student handbook, Kaminari," said Iida, pushing up his glasses.

"But it's so long!"

Iida tsked and adjusted his glasses more vigorously. "You're a student! You should at least be familiar with what is expected of you! Speaking of which, Midoriya, do you know how to use that?"

As much as he could learn from a ten-minute crash-course. "... yes," said Izuku, but it was clear from Iida's face that he had hesitated too long.

"Midoriya! You shouldn't have something like that in the classroom without knowing how to use it!" Iida half stood up, and Izuku clutched the grappling hook closer to his chest.

"No! Mine!" Maybe he was too attached to something he'd only had for a little over an hour, but the support department hadn't been able to give him any smoke bombs or flash grenades due to 'new school regulations regarding explosives' and he'd gone through a lot this morning.

Distress washed over Iida's face, and Izuku wondered if he'd accidentally smacked into some old trauma.

"I wasn't going to take it!" he said, earnestly waving his hands. "I just wanted to make sure you knew where the safety-"

The door to the classroom slammed open. "Is that my little brother I hear?" asked a beaming man in a track suit. Without waiting for an answer, he bounded over to where Iida was sitting and clapped him on the back. "I have come to embarrass you horribly!"

From the expression on Iida's face, this venture was doomed to failure. "I thought you were joking when you said you'd see me today!" exclaimed Iida, beaming.

"Why... why would I joke about that?"

"You joke about a lot of things. Like knowing vigila-"

"Okay! Yes, haha, funny jokester, that's me! Now why don't you introduce me to your classmates?"

"Of course! I have been remiss in my duties as vice president." He stood and executed a ninety-degree bow. "Forgive me! This is my brother, Iida Tensei! Also known as the pro hero Ingenium!"

Izuku could almost see his classmates start to put together the puzzle pieces of Chibiida and extremely tall older brother. He was more concerned about whether or not it would be rude to ask Ingenium for his autograph... and to check his analysis page on Ingenium...

"That's me! And I'll be your special guest TA today! Now, where's Aizawa? You're supposed to have him for homeroom, right?"

As one, the class pointed to the giant yellow caterpillar in the corner of the room.

"Oh my gosh, Shouta, I thought you were joking-"

.

Ingenium was, to put it in a single word, cool. To put it in two words, he was unbelievably cool. So cool Izuku was almost able to forget the impending field-trip-related DOOM they were all facing.

But not quite.

So Izuku slogged through his classes, still thrilled to be there and waning to do his best, but unable to truly focus past the crushing weight of what might happen. His classmates and maybe-friends hovered at the periphery of his suffering, clearly wanting to help, but just as clearly unsure how, or what lines they could or couldn't cross, leading them to resort to painfully awkward normal small talk.

Until they sat down for lunch, that is, by which time Monoma and Iida had gotten into a conversational spiral about how amazing UA was, how awesome Ingenium was, and how UA was truly superior for being able to have pro-heroes like Ingenium come in as TAs on such short notice.

"Midoriya," said Uraraka, startling him out of his fourth or fifth 'Kacchan sweep.'

(It was still possible that his bad feeling was related to Kacchan hunting him down and blowing him up. He'd be mortified about making such a big deal over it if that was the case, but it would be preferable to, say, a terrorist attack.)

(Why did he keep coming back to terrorist attacks?)

"Are you... okay? You've just seemed really down today, and-"

"Invisible hug!" shouted Hagakure before grabbing Izuku and lifting him over her head.

There was a beat of whispering near-silence. Then Uraraka stood up, slamming both hands on the table and inadvertently making it float. "You have got to tell me your work out routine!"

Izuku agreed.

("Strawberry," someone whispered.)

.

"I generally say what's on my mind," said Asui as the Iidas had radically different reactions to the bus seating arrangement.

"Aha," said Izuku. The swaying of the bus plus the strain of probably-Danger-Sense was making him nauseous. "What is it, Asui?'

"Call me Tsuyu."

The first time a person his age let him call them by name since kindergarten, and he couldn't properly appreciate it. Figured.

"I was watching the videos of the battle trials I missed last night," Tsuyu continued, "and I realized, I don't think any of us know what your quirk is."

Izuku's first impulse was to lie or redirect the conversation. Years of quirklessness had left their mark. But on second consideration... was there really a reason to lie? He wasn't going to talk about One for All, obviously, but the rest of it was harmless and bound to come out eventually anyway.

"Well," said Izuku, adjusting the fit of his air filter self-consciously. "That's a good question, actually."

"If you're keeping it a secret, I won't press."

"No, no, that isn't it!" Yes, it was. "It's just that, um, it's really subtle? As in, so subtle I thought I was quirkless until recently. Haha."

"Oh, wow," said Kirishima, "that must have been hard. I mean, I got teased for having a boring quirk, I can't even imagine-"

"Your quirk isn't boring! It's more than enough to be a pro!"

"But what is your quirk?" asked Monoma.

"Um," said Izuku, "well, we're not entirely sure, but... We think it lets me sense things that are dangerous? But I've also got anxiety, so..."

Monoma was frowning, but before he could speak, one of Hagakure's gloves waved frantically in front of his face.

"Is that how you knew I was there?" she asked. "In the battle trial and the entrance exam?"

"Maybe? I think so?"

"You were kind of anxious this morning," said Uraraka, concerned. "Did something bad happen to you?"

"Not- not yet," said Izuku, weakly. "It- We still don't really know how it works, so it could just be the anxiety..." He trailed off. Everyone was kind of staring at him. He pressed back against his seat, wishing there was somewhere to hide.

"Well!" said Uraraka, suddenly pumped up. "We'll just have to keep an eye out! We're hero students, aren't we?"

There was a general cheer of consensus and Izuku managed a shaky smile. So, this was what it was like to have friends.

Eventually, Mr. Aizawa told them to calm down, but there was no heat in the scolding. Maybe, Izuku thought, past the ever-increasing buzzing in his head, today would be okay after all.

.

"Yeah," said Hikage, "there's really no chance of that."

.

The Unforeseen Simulation Joint was an incredible space!

Space Hero Thirteen was about a thousand times cooler in person than on TV!

All Might, in his golden age rescue-specialized costume, looked like he'd just stepped off the pages of a comic book!

But just like Tsuyu's name, Izuku didn't have the ability to appreciate it.

As the other students marveled over the USJ, Izuku watched the adults quietly talk to one another. It seemed to be something serious.

.

"Did you find anything else with the safety checks?" asked Shouta.

"A few of the areas had the difficulty set too high- apparently some of the third-years decided to get some practice in and their supervisor didn't reset everything. Other than that? Nothing." Thirteen shook their head. "No signs of structural failure, no security gaps. Everything seems, well, normal."

"Well," said All Might, "whatever happens, we're prepared!"

Aizawa seriously doubted they were prepared for anything, but the most obvious, most likely things? Yeah.

"What do you think, Ingenium?" he asked.

"Everything looks fine to me," said Tensei, shrugging. "But if it was something obvious, then it wouldn't be so much of a threat, right?"

"We're still not sure how Midoriya's quirk really works," said Shouta. "It could be a threat just to him." He sighed heavily.

Tensei smiled in a way that just about guaranteed Shouta would be teased about this later.

"Well, I'm going to start my speech now!" said Thirteen giving the others a thumbs up. "Wish me luck!"

.

As soon as Thirteen finished their (surprisingly moving) speech, all of Izuku's attention zeroed in on the air next to the fountain. A swirl of dark mist appeared next to it.

Izuku felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Mr. Aizawa-!" But he was already looking in that direction, already watching the man made covered in emerge from the dark hole, followed by a veritable horde of villains.

And Izuku didn't use the term villain idly here. Several of the people he saw were on wanted lists.

Ironically, now that he was faced with real danger, the panicked siren in his head eased off slightly. Evidently, at least some of the strain had been fear of the unknown, and now the threat was very, very known in the worst way, that particular stressor was gone.

"There he is!" cried the man covered in hands. "All Might! The one we've all come for! Nomu! Get him!"

A large villain with an exposed brain who practically sang with danger charged All Might, who grabbed him by the wrist and flung him away, towards the landslide zone. "Ha! That's not much of a challenge! You'll have to do better than that, villains!"

"Maybe," said a villain made of the same mist as the portal that had brought the others. The large villain came charging out of the landslide zone, none the worse for wear. "Maybe not."

"You might be an elite player, but can you fight the boss and protect the noobs you're powerleveling?"

The other villains surged forwards.

This is when Mr. Aizawa and Ingenium jumped into the fray, and everything immediately got more chaotic. Izuku rapidly lost track of the multiple battles occurring around him - except, wow, Mr. Aizawa was really mowing through villains, wasn't he - that Nomu guy had to have a regeneration quirk, there was just no way - he'd have to write down that villain's monolog as soon as they got out, it might have clues - Izuku had no idea that Ingenium could fly and wow that gave him some ideas for Iida-

Speaking of Iida-

"This is no time for analysis! Hurry up and evacuate!"

Right.

"I won't allow that."

Yeah the misty villain definitely had some kind of teleportation quirk, which made this whole thing even more gutsy. Quirks like that were always monitored by the government. These guys must not care about their identities.

"Greetings," he said, a metal colar slipping into place around his neck. "We are the League of Villains. Forgive our audacity, but... today we've come to-"

A gust of air from All Might's fight pushed the mist villain back. But the move had left him partially unguarded, and Izuku watched helplessly as Nomu pounded a fist into his exposed side-

Nomu knew about All Might's injury.

Oh, no.

Izuku didn't have time to process that, however, as Kirishima and Monoma jumped forward, attacking the mist villain.

The feeling of danger spiked, and Izuku barely registered Monoma's bewildered expression.

"Only students... but the best of the best... yes he was right to say you'd be a threat." Darkness spread like an ink stain from the villain's body. Darkness... and portals.

Izuku slammed into Tsuyu and Kaminari, pushing them out of the way of forming portals. He wasn't able to do the same for himself.

"Begone," intoned the mist villain, his voice echoing all around Izuku. "Writhe in torment until you breathe your last."

The next thing Izuku knew, he was in clear light and falling. From at least two stories up, over the flood zone.

And then he stopped.

.

The ghosts whipped their heads around to stare at Nana. She was sitting on a stool, hiding her face in her hands, though whether it was out of embarrassment or fear for Izuku was unclear.

"Nana..." said Yoichi, softly.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry I saw him falling and pani-"

"What did you do that for!" exclaimed Banjo. "He was only fifteen, twenty meters up! Into water!"

"That's twice as high as Olympic divers go! And they screw up their bodies all the time if they hit wrong!" shot back Nana, other emotions abandoned in favor of rage.

"Uh, guys...?" said Yoichi, weakly.

"Who still watches the Olympics?" muttered En.

"If we had to give him a new quirk, it should have been a combat one!"

"You're just jealous that he has Float and not Blackwhip!"

"So what if I am?" demanded Banjo. "If he had Blackwhip, he wouldn't need that stupid grappling hook gun!"

"So, you admit Blackwhip is just a glorified grappling hook?"

"Better than a glorified- glorified-" He puffed out his cheeks. "I'm going to give him Blackwhip right now!"

"NO!" shouted the other ghosts.

"Banjo," said En, "what do you remember about people who All for One gave three quirks to?"

Banjo went pale.

"Oh, hell," said Banjo. "I'm sorry, I got carried away."

"You can say that again," grumbled Nana.

"But," continued Banjo, "doesn't this mean we can't give him the stockpile?"

They turned to Yoichi, who was far and away the expert on the stockpile quirk. He held up his hands and offered a sick, shaky smile. "We've already started the process of giving him stockpile access. There's... there's really no way to stop it."

Nana started swearing, and even Second and Third looked tense.

"But that's borrowing trouble! Maybe he'll be compatable?"

"With three quirks?"

"It's possible!" protested Yoichi. "I mean, he's- um, he's got One for All? Maybe it's more like All for One than we thought?"

"Disgusting."

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"Never say that again."

"But, again, that's a future problem, unlike the villain attack, which is a now problem."

"I see what you're saying," said En, "but we can't do anything about the villain attack, but we could theoretically do something about quirk troubles. Unless you'd rather watch helplessly while our latest-possibly-last holder is murdered?"

Yoichi sighed. "Okay, yeah, let's take a look."

.

Izuku's first thought was that Uraraka must have tagged him, but he had been way too far away from her for her to do that. Unless she had run at him when he dove for Tsuyu? Tsuyu had maybe sort of been between them...

But, no, this didn't feel like Uraraka's quirk. He'd only experienced it a couple of times, but it felt like falling. This felt more like floating on the surface of a pool.

This was, he realized as he drifted helplessly upwards and slightly sideways, Shimura Nana's quirk.

It would be really, really cool if the circumstances were different or if he had any control over the quirk whatsoever. As it was, he didn't appreciate the way he was getting progressively higher. Hitting the water at his previous height would have sucked, but he probably would have survived. Now? Not so much. So, if the quirk decided to stop as suddenly as it had started, he was doomed.

Beyond doomed.

He'd be dead.

Wait! The grappling hook!

He pulled it carefully out of its holster, making sure to wrap the loop around his wrist. He could get back to the ground with the grappling hook, anchor himself at a decent height and make use of this, or even attack, but if he dropped it...

Well. Doom and all that.

His best bet was the top of the downpour zone. It was the closest structure by far. He lined up his sights, fired, and watched as the hook fell several meters short.

That was less than ideal.

He rolled over and looked up. He wasn't that far from the ceiling-

Danger Sense screamed at him, and he was falling, just in time to miss getting hit by a jet of water from below. Izuku, naturally, started screaming as well and fired the grappling hook blindly. He rejoiced as a metallic thunk told him it had hit something and immediately hit the stop button, almost wrenching his shoulders out of their sockets. However, his joy quickly turned to horror as he realized he was now headed toward the hard, unforgiving side of the downpour zone at a dangerously high speed. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Float turned back on.

Izuku let out a somewhat pathetic whine in relief, and hit the retract button on the grappling hook gun, letting it pull him up to the roof.

From here, he had an acceptable view of the rest of the USJ. He shaded his eyes to look back at the main plaza and entrance. He could see Eraserhead and Ingenium fighting back to back in the central plaza. All Might and Nomu were tearing up trees in one of the forested areas, and near the entrance he could see Thirteen, Iida, Uraraka, Shouji, Sato, Sero, and Ashido facing down the mist villain. Hopefully, with those numbers, they'd be able to get past him.

Looking elsewhere, Izuku had to assume Todoroki was in the landslide zone, with the spiky ring of ice in the middle of it. He must be holding back. He could make out a fight happening in the mountain zone, but couldn't tell who was involved.

That was more than half the class unaccounted for, including Tsuyu and Kaminari, who he'd thought he'd pushed away from portals. They were probably in the other zones, but...

He took a deep breath. Focus. Where would he do the most good? Danger Sense couldn't tell him that right now, with all these bright threats all around him. He had to decide on his own.

The fight in the mountain area wasn't going well. The number of visible villains was only increasing.

Could Izuku get there? He bit his lip as he contemplated the distance, then jogged back to the opposite side of the downpour zone roof.

Then he ran.

Then he-

-jumped-

-off the roof.

Float activated at the top of the arc of his jump, and his momentum sent him tumbling forward towards the mountain zone. As he approached and began to slow (air resistance still being a thing, apparently), he was able to see Yaoyorozu and Jiro fighting for their lives. Yaoyorozu did not look good.

This wasn't a great way to be proven right about her quirk having drawbacks.

He aimed the grappling hook at one of the larger, closer villains, not really caring about how much damage it would do, and fired.

.

"Wow," said En. "Kid definitely has a bit of a ruthless streak."

"Imagine how much better he'd do with Blackwhip."

"He wouldn't have been able to get there in the first place without Float."

"Honestly," continued En, "I don't get why Second and Third don't like him. They never shut up about Nana and Eighth being too soft, after all."

"What? They said that stuff about me, too?"

"Yeah, I think they're just unsatsifiable at this point. It's annoying."

"I was much more violent and ruthless than Toshi, though."

"I know."

"Yoichi," said Hikage. "I'm not seeing any sign of additional stress on Ninth's body."

"That's because Izuku is the best."

"Or," said En, "it's because he's only had Nana's quirk for, like, five, ten minutes, tops."

"Or because he's the best. Just look at how he's helped his friends defeat all those villains!"

"Compelling argument," said Hikage.

.

"What- what now?" asked Yaoyorozu, holding herself up with one of her staffs. The mountain zone was littered with various weapons and shrapnel from Yaoyorozu's quirk use. This included a canon. Which was really cool, but seemed a bit over the top... and maybe not the most efficient thing to make, considering Yaoyorozu's limitations.

"I don't know," admitted Izuku. He'd been flung around the field as a makeshift flail/bola by the girls a few times, and was a little dizzy.

He looked back out at the battles still taking place in the plaza. "I think... Maybe we should go down, and make our way around the edge to the entrance. We could pick up Todoroki and see if there's anyone in the ruins zone who needs help-"

Then he saw the hand villain step forward, facing down Eraserhead as Ingenium was lured away in defense of Tsuyu and Kaminari, who had just run out of the wooded area, trailing villains. Danger flared in his mind's eye, and, for the second time in his life, his body moved by itself.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

The Nightwing Suit

There are some absolutely incredible artists out here on tumblr, and seeing their fanart makes me cry tears of joy. Dick Grayson, one of my personal favs, is always a wonderful contender for fanart. His innate grace and agility and flexibility translate beautifully on the artistic spectrum. Bottom line: I love all the Nightwing fanart. However, there is something I want to address with his suit. I’ve been an aerialist ever since I was 7 years old, and I’ve taken gymnastics since I was 3. Now, I specialize in Lyra, while Dick obviously specializes in Trapeze, but when it comes to costume, we’ve got many very important similarities.

DON’TS

When it comes to aerial, we want as much mobility and flexibility as possible. So here are some things that absolutely will not be on his suit.

1. Shoulder Pads. I will scream it from the rooftops if I have to. The Nightwing suit WILL NOT have shoulder pads!! Red Hood? Definitely. Red Robin? Those shoulder pads are important for bo staff strength and support. Robin? Damian probably doesn’t need them, but they won’t hurt. Nightwing? No way. To me, one of the most important parts of my body when practicing and performing are my shoulders. They pull me into hangs and holds, let me rotate myself around, and basically support the rest of my body. This is partially due to user preference: I prefer arm-based stunts and hangs rather than leg based. But it honestly doesn’t matter that much. Nightwing will absolutely need 100% use of his shoulders. Him being able to freely rotate them can be the difference between life and death with his style of fighting. Shoulder pads will just hamper that flexibility. I will admit that shoulder pads look badass, but in this one hero’s scenario? Shouldr pads are a no-go.

2. Sleek Arm Braces. Nightwing, while being well recognized as a solo hero, does often work with a team. And on a team, he isn’t the type to huff angrily and say he can do this by himself. Emotionally? Yes, of course. Physically, and in a fight? He takes all the help he can get, with absolutely no would to his pride. When performing his flips and tricks and such, the other partner will grab hold of him by usually his hands or his arms. I’m just going to straight up say: catching someone by their hands is a Bad Idea. You will not believe the speed we travel when we go through the air, and catching by the hands will lead to dislocations and pain. For a few stunts it’s okay, mainly for the visual aspect of a performance. But when it’s life and death combat? Hands are a last ditch effort if you can’t catch someone by the arms. Because that’s what really counts. The forearms. When Dick is fighting with someone, and that other person has the strength to catch him/throw him from a drop or a flip, they will catch him by the forearms. If Dick’s wearing sleek ‘n sexy arm braces, he’s going to slip right out of their grip. I prefer to keep my forearms bare, but in regards to protective armor, the fabric around the arms better have a grip.

3. Extra Fabric. This one is a given. However, I want to get into the specifics. When you’re in the air, momentum is your most powerful ally, and if there’s anything opposing or hindering that momentum, that spells trouble. Extra fabric can sometimes be good, such as around the legs. Not too much, obviously, but wearing loose or baggy pants while fighting with Nightwing’s fighting style works (as long as you can, you know, actually fight in them and not trip over the extra cloth). Around the middle? Nuh-uh, nope. Anything looping around your waist, hips, or rib cage is a liability if it’s not skin tight. The belt that Robin often wears is okay, as long as it’s wrapped pretty tight around him and doesn’t move. For the kind of stunts that Dick pulls off on a daily basis? I don’t think anything but a skintight bodysuit will help. For arms, extra fabric is ~okay~ but not preferable. And anything strapped to his back, as long as it’s securely in place, will actually help his momentum (so his escrima sticks or any other weapon/item you want to put in there is fine). Nothing around the neck, at ALL. That one issue in Batman where Dick wears a scarf is hot as hell, and sort of makes sense because they’re in the desert. But on missions, at the speed Nightwing fights and flies through the air, anything around his neck will choke him. This entire section definitely wasn’t an excuse to say you should just keep Dick in a skintight outfit, nope, not at all.

4. Spandex. While we’re on the subject of skintight outfits, I just want to point something out that isn’t necessarily important or anything. It’s just a general preference for me. I prefer costumes with a little weight on them. The adrenaline rush is intense for some of my more advanced stunts, and those are things that I bet Dick would consider basic. I prefer something with a little substance/weight/texture to it. Nothing too serious, and nothing too restricting, just something to keep me grounded and focused. We all know how much Dick likes being in the air, but I’m willing to bet he also needs a little extra touch to keep his head in the game. So if you’re designing a serious Nightwing suit, not for crack or fun headcanons or anything, I would steer clear from the spandex, gauze, and showy-light-gossamer fabrics. They do provide extra mobility and flexibility, but that’s because they’re one drop away from naked.

5. Joints. Okay this may seem a little contradictory based on the last point, but around the joints, especially hips and shoulders, the protective padding needs to ease up. It’s one of the hardest areas on the body to injure, after all, even for a professional. And second, I know I’m sounding like I’m repeating the obvious, but flexibility is of utmost importance. If the fabric doesn’t bend with Nightwing, then there’s no point. It can’t chafe, it can’t grind against itself, it can’t break. The material around major joints needs to be malleable.

Dos

Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about what you can absolutely add to Nightwing’s costume to give it either a little pizzazz, or just your own personal touch.

1. Boots. Yes yes yes, boots are an absolute must! And it’s not just me thinking thigh-high boots are cool. Coming out of a big drop and other major stunts requires rolling on your back and then onto your feet. But Nightwing doesn’t fight with the one-hit-and-done style. (That’s more Jason’s thing. He plants himself like a tree and puts power behind a punch, kinda like Bruce, which is why boots-especially boot soles- are important for them.) Nightwing gets in a punch and flips away, then bounces back and gets in a kick and flips away, then bounces back and gets in another kick and flips away. You see where I’m going with this. Dick is constantly on the move, constantly on the verge of flipping back. The main way he does this is with his feet: landing lightly on the balls of his feet to absorb momentum before using that to hit back. Boots with fricion-specific soles are important, he cannot slide or skid. Also, ones that go higher up aren’t bad either: extra support is always welcome. As long as they don’t cover his knees and allow for ankle flexibility, they’re good to go. They may even help stop ankle dislocation. Anything you want to add to the boots? Go ahead. As long as it’s not gauzy ribbon or something too extra, or something that can easily get caught in something else, it’s good to go. In my performances, I like to cover my shins with something, it can range from simple high socks or performance boots to go with my costume. I particularly like Damian’s long lace up boots, especially in Super Sons. It’s a cute outfit, and it won’t hinder his fighting at all. As long as Dick double knots, he can wear those, and any other variants of boots.

2. Gloves. I’m not actually sure if Dick has ever been called “Fingerstripes” in canon, but I’ve seen it in fanon plenty of times. Regardless, it’s one of my favorite nicknames for him, and it does have a basis. The stripes on his gloves are an awesome artistic choice, and useful too. Assuming they have a different texture than the rest of his gloves, those fingerstripes could help with grip. Grip is one of the most important tools an aerialist can have. I have had grown men look at me with shock when they shake my hand because of my firm grip (and the calluses, ugh). I firmly believe that Dick Grayson has one of the strongest grips in the DC non-meta world, and I bet you he surpasses even a good amount of metas. Having a good, no-slip grip is essential, even if you’re just swinging from the surface for a second, or if the surface is another partner’s hand. Gloves, once again as long as they’re not too restricting, would be awesome with helping with that.

3. Wrist Braces. I said before that Dick can’t have arm braces because of the whole partner-grip thing. But with the amount of force and pressure Dick exerts on his hands on a daily basis, dislocations and sprains should be as common as a bruise. Hell, I’m sitting here typing this and my left wrist is sprained. Fanfic writers, here’s a helpful tip: you can write Dick with a sprained or dislocated or just a plain sore wrist anytime at all, and having him rub his hands with a grimace, rubbing lotion onto them, or doing wrist exercises in his free time is a go-to for if you need anything filler. Or, you know, it could even be part of the plot. Wrist braces help with this, they keep the joints in place and add a little extra stability to his movements. As long as they’re not interfering with wrist mobility, wrist braces are a very very good idea. When you think how long, think about the length of Peter Parker’s handmade web shooters. Long enough to be there, but not immediately noticeable. Also, make sure the material is something cloth, wrap, or gauze based. Anything too hard could scrape against the skin, cause cuts and bruises, and even cut off circulation. Unless it’s armor, it’s not comfortable or easy to do aerial maneuvers with.

4. Back Harness. To be honest, I have no idea what the official name for this piece of equipment even is. But the thing that holds Nightwing’s escrima sticks to his back. The thing that holds Deadpool’s katanas (in the movies, not the comics). The back-strap-harness thingy. That’s a go-for-it when it comes to costumes. Not only does it look badass and hot when it’s on your costume and you draw your weapons from it seamlessly like a boss, it’s practical and doesn’t interfere with your fighting at all. As I said, a majority of Nightwing’s moves rely on momentum. The back harness thingy won’t harm that at all. As long as it’s strapped to your back, unmoving and steady, it stays out of the way and may actually help you with your momentum. Drawing weapons from it is easy and seamless, and one of the quickest moves you can perfect, aside from drawing your weapon from thigh/calf holsters. But as I said before, Dick would probably stick to the back because, once again, momentum.

Okay this got much longer than I thought it would. But regardless, I hope this helps if you’re ever drawing or writing about the Nightwing suit and need specifics. Or hell, if you’re a cosplayer and need some information on how to make an accurate costume, here you go. Now I need to take a breather and chill, because while I considered myself a pretty recreational comic reader and not much of an analyzer, I had no idea how much I picked up about Dick’s individual fighting style and how that fits in with my own aerial experiences.

[their-destinys-writer]

Miraculous Ladybug Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season

Yes, yes, this is suuuuper late. But I still want to share it. This is a Lukanette fic I wrote for the @mlwriterzine last year. For this zine, I had the honor of being one of its mods, same as one of its writers. This one was especially special to me, because it’s a zine fully dedicated to writers, which is extremely rare, and the final result was astonishing. Huge thanks to @emzurl for making it possible.

The Start of a Song

“I can’t believe we’re here!” Rose squealed, watching the crowds enter past the security fences. “I’ve never been so close to the stage!”

“I know,” Juleka responded in her low, raspy voice. “Totally rad.”

Rose let out another squeal, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand and dragging her inside. Although there were plenty of bands playing during the Summer Music Festival, there was no artist more exciting than Jagged Stone. To which Kitty Section got tickets for in advance.

“Don’t go too far!” Luka called out, but the two girls were already out of earshot. He sighed, as a hand landed on his arm.

“I’ll help keep an eye for them,” Marinette said next to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye out, too,” Mylène said, coming up the other side with Ivan. “I think it’s a little late to be right in front of the stage.”

“We’ll still be pretty close,” Marinette shrugged. “C’mon, we should get close before it fills up!”

A hand wrapped around Luka’s wrist, as she dragged him towards the crowd. Meanwhile, Luka looked at their surroundings, and couldn’t help but notice something.

“Is it just me, or are there a lot of couples in this concert?” Marinette said nervously next to him.

“Huh, I hadn’t noticed,” Luka responded, as nonchalantly as possible, pretending he hadn’t just noticed the exact same thing. “I do see a lot of people, though. Anyone of us could easily get lost. Speaking of …”

He craned his neck in search of his sister, luckily finding her mere meters away. For the third time that day he reminded himself to not get too distracted by the girl still holding his wrist. As grateful as he was that the other two couples encouraged a romantic relationship between them, Luka would never want to put Marinette in an uncomfortable situation. Especially when he still didn’t know where she stood on that notion.

Instead, he tried his best to make sure his sister didn’t wander off, like he heavily suspected she would try.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just making sure nobody gets lost.”

“That’s gonna be hard, Ivan and Mylène already said they’re going to the movies after this.”

Luka frowned, turning to her. “When did they decide that?”

“They told me just before you and Juleka arrived. They didn’t tell you?”

“Uh, no.”

It’s a setup, Luka instantly thought. It wouldn’t be the first time they tried leaving them alone in hopes that something would happen. However, he knew better. As much as he wished something would happen, at this point, he was starting to lose hope.

The music started, and the crowd screamed. While everyone else was concentrating on the stage, Luka couldn’t help but divert his eyes to Marinette, with her arms raised as she cheered. A smile curved his lips as the image of happiness brought joy to him. With one last wistful sigh, he turned to the stage and started cheering himself.

Jagged Stone walked into the stage, joining his bandmates with a guitar solo. The screams were louder, and the crowd started pushing to the front, every fan hoping to be closer to the rockstar. Luka tried looking at Juleka’s way again, but his vision was cut by several screaming fans. 

An elbow hit his back. He turned just in time to watch a large, tall man about to push Marinette out of the way. On instinct, he grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Wah!” Marinette squawked, as she was pulled into Luka’s chest.

“Sorry,” he said, with an apologetic grin. “I figured you’d prefer being pulled than pushed towards me by that guy.”

Marinette glanced at the man now standing where she had been two seconds before.

“Oh,” she breathed, her cheeks acquiring a light shade of pink. “Thanks, Luka.”

A light caress down his chest sent shivers up his spine. Luka swallowed a large gulp before grabbing her shoulders again and turning her in the direction of the stage.

“Wouldn’t want you to miss the show,” he said.

Marinette’s attention was quickly diverted to Jagged Stone, while Luka attempted to get his cool back. While he had never been secretive about his feelings for her, something about this day felt different to him. He shook his head, in an attempt to send away the thought. He had already learned keeping hopes too high could lead to unnecessary disappointment.

And yet, he couldn’t stop looking at her.

Luka continued looking at Marinette on her toes, craning her neck as far as she could above the heads in the crowd. As amusing as it was, the young man couldn’t help but feel bad. He tapped her shoulder, catching her attention, and made a gesture of holding something over his shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Marinette asked.

“I can take it,” Luka shrugged, kneeling down. “Come on, you’ll see better.”

Although she hesitated for a moment, she quickly agreed when the crowd cheered over something she didn’t get to see. As Luka rose back to his feet, he stumbled momentarily, prompting a squawk from Marinette while she wrapped her arms around his head. Luka couldn’t help but laugh, almost losing his balance again.

“I’m gonna fall!” Marinette cried dramatically.

“I got you,” Luka assured, holding tight to her legs. “See, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

The young woman’s arms relaxed as she let out a sigh of relief. After several minutes, Marinette seemed to have forgotten her previous fear and gained comfort from her position on his shoulders. Unfortunately for Luka, the part of him that was not internally giddy for being so close to the girl of his dreams was regretting his decision.

Thick droplets of sweat started running down his forehead and back with the added weight, plus the scorching summer heat. Yet, he was resolute in keeping his stance. The concert was only one hour, after all.

* * *

The crowd let out its last scream as the lights turned on around them, signaling the end of the concert. Although Luka had gotten used to the weight already, it didn’t stop him from almost letting out a whine of relief when Marinette was back on the ground.

“That was awesome!” she squealed, as she made a twirl to look at him. “I’ve never had such an awesome view to—Woah, Luka, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” he panted.

“You’re sweating like crazy.”

Luka swiped a hand over his forehead. “Huh, look at that.” He pulled his hair back, in hopes to refresh his forehead. “Nothing a cold drink won’t fix. Right, Marinette? Marinette?”

She seemed to not hear him, her eyes trained on something above his eyes.

“Marinette?” he called again, loud enough to catch her attention.

“Ah! Sorry!” she squeaked. “Yeah, you’re hot—I mean, it’s hot! It’s very hot, something cold sounds great. Yeah, totally. We probably gotta move, where are the others?” Marinette asked, scanning the crowd.

“Dunno,” Luka muttered, searching for his phone. On the screen appeared a text message from his sister. In it, he read: 

Juleka: 

Sorry, we lost you in the crowd. Gonna go for some ice cream with Rose. Thank me later! ;)

He gulped. “They left already.”

“Without us?”

“They went on their own date, I guess.”

“O-Oh,” Marinette stammered. “I see … So, what are you going to do?”

“I—” He had been about to say he was going home. But it still felt much too early to do so. And he didn’t feel like spending the rest of the afternoon alone. “I think I will go for a walk.”

“Ah, I see.”

There was silence. Probably caused by Marinette’s usual indecision about saying what she wanted. Something Luka could already sense and decided to do the work for her.

“Marinette, would you like—”

“Can I join you?” she asked at the same time as him.

Luka blinked, this being the first time she barely hesitated to take the initiative with him. With a soft smile, he responded: “I would very much like that.”

* * *

After several hours and one stop for iced coffee, Luka and Marinette were walking by the edge of the Seine, lost in a melody of joyous laughter.

“Wait, you didn’t!” Luka exclaimed.

“I swear I was the only one who saw it,” Marinette laughed.

“And here I thought I was so sneaky, too.”

“Well, to be fair, I did make the costumes. I think it’s a given I would notice when there’s a piece missing.”

“It’s a good thing that show was not recorded,” Luka chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t want us going viral over a wardrobe malfunction instead of the music.”

“I don’t think it would’ve been so bad if it had,” Marinette responded in a sing-song tone. “Even if that had happened, it could’ve helped boost your popularity as a band. Especially with such a cute guitarist.”

Luka’s eyes widened, dead staring at her. Marinette seemed to have noticed what she said one second too late, for her cheeks turned dark red instantly. Lips pressed together, as if trying to stop them from saying something else they were forbidden from. Luka did his best to still his heart, pushing all hope aside. Just in case.

“Thank you?” he said, attempting to sound as cool as possible. And slightly failing.

“U-uh, you’re welcome?” Marinette said, just as awkwardly. “I-I mean, not that that’s all I think of you. You’re than more such—I mean, you’re so much more than that. You’re a great friend. Notthatyoucanonlybeafriend. I mean.” She took a deep breath. “I meant to say that you’re a great guy, more than looks.”

“That means a lot coming from you, Marinette,” Luka chuckled. “You don’t have to try to fix what you say with me. I know what you mean.”

“See what I mean?!” Marinette burst. “With you, I don’t have to try to explain myself. You just … You just get me! It’s so comfortable with you. And nice. And wonderful. And…”

She went silent. Again, holding back. Despite the words already spoken.

Luka placed his hands in his pockets. “You know,” he said, with a light smile, “anything you want to say, you can say it. No matter what it is, you know I’ll always listen.”

“I know,” Marinette whispered. “Some things are just hard to say.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I too think you’re an extraordinary person. But you already know that.”

“I do.” She placed a hand on his forearm, softly pulling it. It took Luka a minute to realize she was attempting to take his hand out of his pocket. He obliged as discreetly as possible. When the hand was fully out, she entwined her fingers between his.

Luka’s heart drummed louder, wondering if this was a sweet dream, or if it was as real as it felt.

“I really do,” Marinette said, looking directly into his eyes. She opened and closed her mouth several times. “I-I … I, um, I wanted to, uh, I wanted to say—”

Luka placed a finger over her lips. “You don’t have to say it. If you don’t feel comfortable with it, you don’t have to say it.”

“I want to,” she insisted. “I know you always know what I mean. But … Luka, I like you. As more than a friend.”

The air trapped itself inside his lungs. His heart was about to burst out of his ribcage. A celebratory melody rang out in his mind. He then understood why she wanted to say it: hearing the words made a world of difference. It felt different than simply suspecting. It made it real. It reminded him why he had been so forward in the first place, when he had the chance.

The hand that was still trapped in his pocket slid out, landing on her cheek. Luka couldn’t contain the excitement the words brought. He could feel a wide grin paint his face, but he didn’t care if it made him like a goofball.

“You have no idea how happy those words make me,” he said, letting out a shuddered breath and leaning to her lips.

There was a clatter on a nearby car, snapping them both out of the bubble they had built between themselves. Turning to the source of the sound, they found Rose scrambling to grab her phone that landed on the hood of a car where she seemed to have been hiding behind. Next to Rose were Juleka, Ivan, and Mylène unsuccessfully trying to take cover.

“Oh gosh,” Marinette whined, covering her face.

Luka chuckled. “You guys are not very good with the sneaking and spying.”

“I was so close,” Rose lamented, as Juleka gave her girlfriend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Sorry!” Mylène waved a hand towards them. “We didn’t mean to interrupt you guys!”

“This is so embarrassing,” Marinette’s muffled voice said.

Luka looked between their friends and Marinette. He smiled and asked, “D’you wanna run?”

Marinette raised her head, with her lips in the shape of an ‘o.’ Without a second thought, she eagerly nodded. Luka grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the nearby bridge to run across it. Meanwhile, the rest of Kitty Section yelled at them to return. 

“Where are we going?!” she panted.

“Wherever!” he responded, letting out a laugh. Marinette laughed too, just as eager to explore whatever it was that they had just started.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. 

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost two months after moving out of Beck’s place, Peter was able to rent an apartment in the same building as Ned and MJ. It was tiny, of course, but pretty inexpensive, compared to other options he found around that area. Besides, with the money he made with Just4Fans over those few weeks, he would be able to afford it comfortably for at least a few months – largely thanks to YKWIM. He still planned on saving up as much as possible, so he put a lot of effort into making his account grow and it was working – by the end of April, he was up to five hundred subscribers.

He didn’t check to see what Beck was doing, he was too afraid to look and see him with his new boyfriend, but he got lots of comments from his old fans, who still followed Beck, telling him that the new boy had nothing on him. Again, he didn’t dare to check, but the ego boost was nice, even if he didn’t really believe them. Also, he was down to crying once every two days instead of every other day, so he was counting that as a win as well.

His apartment was still pretty empty, specially because he spent most of his time downstairs at his friends’ place, but he decorated the bathroom and his room to the best of his ability, since they would be the background of pretty much all his videos and pictures. He also bought some new lingerie sets, a few costumes and sex toys he wasn’t even sure how to use, but he was slowly figuring them out.

Aside from decorating his room and the bathroom, he also bought an armchair and placed it by the  window with a couple of pillows. It was a nice spot to spend the afternoon reading or working on his computer. The light in that apartment was great, sunlight streamed right into his living room and warmed it up nicely. As they approached the end of April, the weather was getting better everyday.

Some days, he felt happy. He felt okay with the fact that he was still doing porn and that it wasn’t a terrible crime. Sure, it wasn’t what he had planned to do with his life, but he was young, he would eventually figure things out. For the time being, he needed that gig and he couldn’t beat himself up for it. Also, it wasn’t so bad now that he was only doing solo stuff.

Some other days, though, were just – hard. He remembered all the videos that were still online and he felt awful for the sole reason that they existed. Not so much for the ones he filmed with Beck, he was somewhat okay with those, the guy was his boyfriend after all, they had sex anyway, the only difference was the camera in the room. But the other ones…

When he started filming with other men, it quickly turned into an unpleasant experience for him. He hated every second of it and always ended up feeling guilty, used and disposable at the end of the day. Beck didn’t make it any better with the way he looked at him afterwards as he told him to get in the shower.

He wasn’t entirely sure of the reasons why those videos bothered him so much, sometimes it felt like it wasn’t even him in them. It was like he was watching a different person, he looked at himself and felt completely dissociated from that boy – at the same time, he looked at him and he knew – he knew – exactly what he was feeling when those were shot.

But that was a lot to unpack and he just wasn’t ready for that particular crisis.  

So in short, sometimes he was still a little unsure about how long he would be able to keep his Just4Fans account, because even though most days he didn’t feel too weird about it, sometimes it reminded him of things he preferred to forget. But that was fine, he was usually able to work around that. Also, most of his subscribers were great and didn’t make him feel like a cheap whore, so he had that going for him as well.

YKWIM was one of the good ones. They chatted almost daily, and Peter always sent him exclusive pictures and videos just because. He never posted those pictures on his feed once he sent them to him, it was their little secret. In return, he got his own collection of short videos of YKWIM finishing himself off. He didn’t know much about the person behind the videos, he’d taken to calling him daddy because most of his subscribers seemed to like it and YKWIM never complained, so it stuck.

Peter did know he lived in New York – which made him shiver – and that he was a businessman of some kind, but he also always talked about a workshop, so Peter wasn’t sure and he avoided asking personal questions. He worked most of the day and into the night, they usually talked when it was late, always around two in the morning.

He traveled a lot, too, and sometimes sent Peter small clips of his hotel rooms or the view from his balcony. In return, Peter sent him pictures of his messy bedroom and the horrible view from his window as a joke. It was nice talking to him, he always made Peter laugh – and then it often ended with a very satisfying orgasm that put him right to sleep, which was awesome.

Peter estimated YKWIM was older than Beck, but not by too much. He clearly had a fit body, which at first led him to believe he was in his thirties, at most; but he noticed YKWIM sometimes talked about the 80’s like he lived them, so he had to be at least in his forties, but Peter couldn’t be sure. He really wished he would show his face, though, it would be nice to have one to fantasize about. But then again, maybe it would ruin the whole thing.

One afternoon, after Peter spent hours taking pictures, shooting videos and editing them so he could post them over the following week, he got a message from YKWIM. He hurried to check it and was shocked to see that he had sent him yet another tip – forty thousand dollars this time.

“For you to buy pretty things so you can show them off to me.” Said the message that came with the money.

Peter almost dropped his phone when he saw it. It had been only five weeks since his last insane tip, so that made fifty thousand dollars in just a little over a month. For, like, thirty nudes. Who even was that guy?

“Wow, daddy, that’s way too much!” He added a flushed face emoji, for lack of something better to say. He was honestly feeling a little overwhelmed, even if the guy had millions to spend, there was no way just giving someone that amount of money was normal.

“That’s not nearly enough for what you’ve given me, baby.” Peter’s cheeks burned.

“I’m very flattered, but please, I really don’t think I deserve all this.” He was pretty sure he sounded pathetic, but that was how he felt, so. Yeah.

“Oh, but you do. Trust me, you really, really do. You’re worth every penny.” Peter bit his lower lip, a little unsure and still a little shocked.

“At least tell me what you’d like to see from me, please. Do you have any kinks that you’d like me to perform? Don’t be shy.” He asked, even though it always made him nervous to offer that kind of thing. Sometimes people were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to make the weirdest requests.

But, to be fair, he had been talking to YKWIM for over a month, so he somewhat trusted him not to ask for anything too absurd.  And then again, the guy had just paid him forty thousand dollars.

“Well, if you insist...” Here it comes, Peter thought, bracing himself. “Red and gold are my favorite colors. I’d love to see you wearing them.” Oh. Not what he was expecting at all.

“Done! Anything else? Come on, there’s gotta be something else.” Again, risky move. But again, forty thousand dollars.

“I’d love to hear you. You’re always so quiet in your videos. If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear you call my name.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at that request. It sounded… almost sweet? It obviously wasn’t meant like that, it was completely sexual, but out of all the wild things he could have asked for, he wanted to hear Peter call his name.

“What’s your name, daddy?”

“Tony.” Tony. Peter tested the word out on his tongue, saying it out loud once, twice. Tony. It suited the image he had created in his head. Tony.

“I can definitely do that, Tony. Anything else?”

“Buy yourself something pretty and send me a picture wearing it. Nothing sexual. Something you’d wear to a date with me.” Peter’s breath hitched. He supposed it was probably just a weird, rich people kink or something, but his mind went wild anyway. Very, very wild.

“I don’t know what I’d wear to a date with you, daddy. Any advice?”

“I like expensive and beautiful things such as yourself, baby.”

Normally, Peter wouldn’t appreciate being called expensive, like he was a thing to be bought, but he felt weirdly flattered by the answer. He promised YKW – Tony – he would send everything he requested over the next few days, and he was actually excited about the whole thing. And of course he knew that feeling was trouble, there were warning signs flashing like crazy before his eyes, but he ignored them and convinced himself that he was just having fun and he was allowed to have fun if he was going to keep doing porn. He didn’t have to feel miserable and guilty all the fucking time. He could – and should! – take some pleasure from it. He deserved it.

So the following day he asked MJ to go shopping with him, but he still didn’t tell her the whole story, he just said it was for his Just4Fans and she readily agreed to go. They went to Victoria’s Secret and Peter told her what he had in mind.

“So, how’s the job going? You’re doing okay? Not too overwhelmed?” She asked coolly as they searched through the panties section.

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s different when I’m in control, you know? Like, I know my limits and I don’t need to count on other people to respect them. Well, most of the time. So it’s cool.”

Some subscribers were a little pushy sometimes, asking for things Peter wasn’t willing to do and then getting really aggressive after being told no. But it didn’t affect him as much as it did when Beck ignored his boundaries, because those pushy subscribers could be easily blocked, whereas with Beck, well. It was a different story.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to push your limits, okay?” Michelle stopped what she was doing to grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at her. “If you ever feel like stopping, for whatever reason, just do it. No matter what, you’ll always have me and Ned, understand? We’re family, we’re here for you, we’d never leave you alone. If you want to stop, we’ll figure something out together, you hear me?” The way she looked into his eyes made him understand that she really meant every single word of it.

Family. He had a family with them.

Peter felt silly tearing up in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, so he pulled her into his arms and hid his face in her neck.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” he muttered, as she squeezed him a little tighter, before pushing him away.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all teary-eyed on me, come on, you’ll ruin my reputation.” She looked around, sniffing, then stuck her hands in her pockets. Peter laughed halfheartedly, drying the corner of his eyes. “C’mon, there are panties to be bought.”

They spent a couple of hours searching the store, but in the end he found the perfect set. He bought some other pieces, too, for his feed, people had been asking for lingerie a lot lately, after a slightly weird phase of cat ears and tails. Once they left Victoria’s Secret, Peter was nervous because he had to tell MJ at least part of the truth to get her help with the second part of Tony’s request.

“So, listen,” he started and she turned to him, happily sipping her large coffee as they walked down the street. “I have this subscriber. He’s, like, a rich, old dude who always sends me tips and stuff. Anyway, he gave me some money and asked me to buy something nice and pose for him, but like, not in a sexual way. He wants to see me clothed.” She frowned, staring at him suspiciously. “Um. I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

She was silent for a few seconds, just looking at him with narrowed eyes. He looked away discreetly, trying to avoid her mind-reading skills.

“Should I be worried?” She asked, finally. He shook his head and chuckled nervously, waving a hand dismissively.

“He’s harmless, just some lonely, old dude. So, will you help?” He looked at her expectantly. She was still frowning and definitely knew something was up, but she nodded anyway, to Peter’s relief.

“What do you have in mind?” MJ asked and resumed her stroll down the street, Peter had to jog a little to keep up.

“Something expensive and beautiful,” He quoted Tony, like an idiot, because he honestly had no idea what that meant.

“That’s oddly specific and somehow not helpful at all.” She lifted an eyebrow and looked around the busy street. “How expensive are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure. Very?” He answered nervously, and, yet again, she looked looked like she wanted to rip the truth out of him, but she also knew that was not the way to go with him.  

“How much did this guy give you?”

“Um. for – five thousand dollars.” He stuttered. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the actual amount, because it sounded absolutely insane and she would worry unnecessarily.

“Holy shit!? Fuck, why aren’t I doing porn?!” She screeched and Peter hurried to put his hands over her mouth, because at least three people turned around to look at them.

“Don’t even joke about that, you hear me? You have a bright future ahead of you, don’t fuck it up,” he told her seriously and she looked like she wanted to argue just for the sake of being annoying, but something in the way he looked at her must have made her realize he meant it.

“Chill, I’m joking.” She patted his shoulder and looked away. “So. Five thousand dollars? We can work with that.”

He was a little scared of the weird gleam in her eyes, but followed her anyway.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping, it was a lot of fun and he even got her a pair of shoes she kept staring longingly at. She was worried they would go over the budget because she wanted him to save some of the money, but he assured her he could afford it. They managed to put together a great outfit that he was very confident about and then called Ned to meet them for dinner in the evening.

Later, they took the subway home and, for a while, he felt like a normal 20-year-old guy – happy, weightless and just a little heartbroken, like everyone was bound to be at some point in life. He was going to be okay, he realized. That thought hit him like a punch in the face and it felt fucking awesome.

He rested his head on Ned’s shoulder with a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of MJ’s hand on his thigh.

It was around midnight when he got home, which for him was still a little early, he had developed the terrible habit of going to bed well after two in the morning – he blamed Tony, but to be fair, many of his subscribers were mostly active around that time as well. He debated whether or not he should start working on Tony’s requests, he was a little tired from a long day of walking around carrying bags, but also surprisingly eager to show the older man what he got for him.

He took the Victoria’s Secret bag and displayed the new outfit on the bed. It was a simple, but beautiful lingerie set. What Peter loved most about it was the fabric – it was made of deep red satin, smooth and glossy, and it felt simply amazing on the skin.

He decided to try it on, just to make sure it fit properly.

The top was a delicate bralette, two little triangles only big enough to hide his nipples and a little bit of his pecs. It was the perfect size for him, it sat flush with his skin, no unflattering cup gaps. The panties were tiny, Peter wasn’t too sure about those back in the store, he was worried not everything would fit in it. It did, but just barely, but it actually worked in his favor, in his humble opinion. Lastly, he put on the garter belt, which was just a thin piece of fabric that went around his waist, with two straps that hung down to clasp onto two elastic bands that went around his thighs.

Since Tony said red and gold, he also put on a thick, golden choker, just to see how it would look.

Once he was dressed, he went to check in the mirror. He bit his lower lip, running his hand over the fabric that covered his chest. It felt really smooth, and the way it brushed against his nipples sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Tony’s hands on his body. They looked strong enough to hurt, but he imagined they would be gentle with him, as they traced a path from his collarbone to his neck, to wrap themselves around his throat – but not tight enough to choke him, just a promise.

He sighed, as if to check that he could still breath under the pressure, and slowly slid his hands down from his neck, brushing his hard nipples on their way down to the front of the panties – God, it was so smooth...

For some reason, he imagined Tony would be a gentle lover. Maybe it was the way he talked to him, always so charming, all sweetheart and baby, all praise and compliments. Maybe it was the way he never demanded anything, only asked nicely, all please and thank you.  

Tony wouldn’t ruin him, like he promised so many times in those last few weeks, he would fuck him long and slow, raspy voice whispering sweet praise in his ear, rough hands holding him down, hips snapping with each unrelenting thrust.

He bit his lips, knees buckling as he felt the front of the panties getting wet, while his leaking cock struggled to get free.

Well, then.

He grabbed his camera from the closet and positioned it on a tripod in front of the bed, just a few feet away, and programmed it to take pictures every five seconds. He sat on the bed, facing the camera, feet still on the floor, and just closed his eyes for a minute, letting a sigh escape his lips as the fantasy from before filled his mind again.

He spread his legs and his fingers reached down to the front of his panties again. His cock felt impossibly hard, straining against the delicate fabric, dark pink tip peeking out of over the top of the tiny underwear. He touched himself slowly, hips rocking lightly to match the pace of his own hand, as he listened to the clicks of the pictures being taken.

He had to force himself to stop, before he lost control, and moved to kneel on the bed, with his side facing the camera, and lowered his chest until it was touching the mattress, letting his back curve in a sinful arch, head turned to the side, staring right at the lens. At Tony. Imagining what he would do if he were there.

He sat back on his heels and turned his back to the camera, spreading his knees, each of his hands grabbing one ass cheek, pulling them apart, only a thin, barely there strip of fabric hiding his nakedness. He looked over his shoulder and waited for the camera to take at least a couple of pictures.

Next, he laid on his back, side facing the camera again, left hand rubbing one nipple over the silky fabric, as the right one reached down the front of the panties, to finally give himself some sort of relief. He let out an almost pained moan as he wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, once, twice, but all that teasing was driving him a little insane.

He knew he should probably take a few more pictures, but he also knew wouldn’t last much longer.

He got off the bed and went to the dresser where he kept all of his “work stuff”. He grabbed a tube of lube and a vibrator that was neither too small, nor too big, it was a size Peter was comfortable with.

He switched the camera to video mode, pressed record and resumed his position on the bed, knees on the bed, holding his lower body up, and chest resting on the mattress. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, pushed the panties a little to the side and circled his hole gently, slowly, because that was how he imagined Tony would do it. Those big, rough hands would have grabbed him by the hips, put him in that exact position, before teasing him mercilessly.

He moaned quietly and closed his eyes, rubbing slow circles around his rim, pressing a little against his entrance, but not hard enough to breach it. He felt his cock pulsing, begging for attention, but he didn’t dare to touch it, not yet.

“Tony, please...” He whined, pushing his hips back against his own hand, he was so lost in his fantasy he almost forgot he didn’t need to beg. Almost. “I need you...”

Gently, he started pushing one finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, he was so aroused he barely felt the burn, just delicious pressure that made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He started fucking himself on his finger, feeling the muscles around it slowly make way.

“’Been thinking about you, Tony…” he rasped out, hips pushing back against his hand. “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout you...” When he felt loose enough, he pushed another finger inside, the stretch becoming a little more noticeable as he slowly scissored himself open. He got on all fours and turned his back to the camera to give Tony a better view, all spread out for him, and kept fucking himself, picking up the pace once just those two fingers weren’t enough. “Fuck, daddy, need you so bad...”

He eased the fingers out of himself, sighing at the loss, and reached for the vibrator that was sitting on the bed and turned to face the camera again. He knelt on the bed and, with one hand, he propped the vibrator up on the mattress, holding it down from behind him, as with the other hand he guided its tip to his already abused hole.

He flicked the switch and it vibrated to life, nudging against his hole before finally slipping in. Peter’s breath hitched at the intrusion, feeling the delicious burn on his lower back, as he moved his hips up and down slowly, trying to push more of it inside with each painful thrust.

“Fuck me, Tony,” he begged, as his free hand finally reached for his neglected cock, pumping it hard and fast, matching the maddening pace his hips set. He lost all sense of rhythm when he felt the tip of the vibrator finally – finally – reach his prostate and he pushed it even further in, until the pressure against the bundle of nerves became too much and he exploded in one of the best orgasms he had had in a long, long time. “Oh, f-fuck!” His vision went dark for a second as he let himself fall back on the bed, wasted.

He spent almost ten minutes just lying there, trying to catch his breath and regain consciousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that, he was boneless, floaty, completely satisfied. It was honestly the best he felt in months.

When his legs stopped shaking, he got up and headed straight to the shower, still feeling a little dizzy and weak, but he wasn’t complaining.

Once he was finished, he debated whether he should just go to bed or send Tony what he had, but with the way he was feeling, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so easily. So decided to send at least the pictures right away, even though it was nearing 3AM. Peter knew Tony was probably up, the man did say that he was an insomniac and that he sometimes went days without any real sleep, so it wasn’t a surprise when he answered just a few minutes after Peter sent them.

“Holy fuck, Peter!!” Peter bit his lower lip, burying his face in the pillow to hide his blush, even though he was alone in his room.“What the fuck, baby, it’s three in the morning, are you trying to fucking kill me?!”

“So you like them?” He asked with feigned innocence.

“I fucking love them, you little tease, these are hands down my favorites yet. I swear I’m gonna have them framed and hung in my workshop and I’ll spend the rest of my fucking days just writing odes to you.” Peter giggled into the pillow, turning on his side to get more comfortable on the bed.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He joked lightly, blushing again, which was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck no! You’re something else, kitten, and you don’t even know it.” Peter suppressed a smile, biting his lower lip.

“Are you touching yourself right now, daddy?”

“To be honest, I’m so fucking hard I think I’m gonna come instantly if I even brush my fingers on my cock. I’m literally just staring at the pictures right now and worrying I’m gonna come untouched just from that.” Peter laid on his stomach and bit the pillow, gently rocking his hips against the bed.

“That’s so hot. Can I see it?”

Seconds later, there was a video in the chat. He played it immediately and, sure enough, Tony wasn’t kidding. His cock was rock hard, throbbing, the head was an angry purple, already glistening with pre-cum. Tony was just holding it at the base, not daring to touch it, and the whole thing almost made Peter hard again, but he was really exhausted.

“Fuck, daddy, I really wish I could help you with that.”

“Oh, you don’t even know what I wish.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes and Peter figured he had gone to sleep, but then his phone beeped, alerting him to another message from him. It was, of course, a picture of Tony’s spent cock, resting against his belly, which was covered in come, so much of it Peter’s mouth watered.

“Was it good, daddy?”

“The best, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m gonna sleep like a baby today.” Peter chuckled. Tony always said that was high praise coming from someone who hardly ever slept and the younger man took his word for it.

“Goodnight, Tony. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to it, Pete.”

He knew he was fucked the second he tried to suppress a small smile, but couldn’t.

[fanmoose12]

terrifyingly complicated

Levi and Hange come to a Halloween party, wearing a two-person costume. Everyone wonders what that can mean.

Working at a law firm was exhausting. It was also very stressing. And since he couldn’t get drunk in the middle of workday, Erwin had no choice, but to resort to another vice – smoking. Whenever the tension inside of him grew too intense to ignore (which happened rather frequently), Erwin took a pack of cigarettes and went outside. Feeling the smoke enter his lungs and then releasing it into the air, watching the white whiff dissolve into nothing calmed Erwin down better than anything.

During his smoke breaks, he was often accompanied by his co-workers. Mike joined him frequently. Moblit came a lot, too, especially when the stress of dealing with his troublesome superior Hange made him feel like tearing out his hair. As far as Erwin knew, Hange didn’t smoke. And even if she did, she never took breaks, too passionate about her work to let anything distract her. That is until Moblit, or sometimes Levi, didn’t make her rest. Moblit pleaded and bargained with her. Levi simple dragged her away from her desk.

Speaking of Levi, he was the one, who accompanied Erwin the most. He didn’t smoke that much, so Erwin suspected that Levi used the excuse of smoke breaks simply to get out of their noisy, bustling office.

This time, of course, he joined Erwin, as well.

"So, Levi," Erwin glanced at his friend. He lighted up a cigarette and passed the lighter to Levi. "Are you going to the office party this Friday?"

Erwin didn't actually expect an affirmative answer from Levi. If he could help it, Levi always stayed at home, preferring to keep his human interaction to a minimum. Recently, though, he started appearing at social gatherings more often. Erwin strongly suspected that a certain bespectacled co-worker of theirs was the reason for this sudden change.

Still, Halloween wasn't just another party, where everyone gets slightly drunk and bitches about their higher-ups. You have to wear a costume. And in all those years that Levi worked in their firm, he had never attended the Halloween party.

So what a surprise Erwin got, when Levi took a drag of his cigarette and then slowly nodded.

The cigarette almost slipped from between Erwin's fingers.

"You're coming?" he couldn't help, but ask again.

"Yes.”

"And... do you have a costume?"

"Frankenstein's monster," Levi replied nonchalantly.

Erwin openly stared at him. Was their conversation real? Or was it some kind of fever dream?

"F-frankenstein's monster?" he repeated, getting more and more worried about his sanity.

"Erwin, check your hearing," Levi grumbled. "Yes, I'll be a Frankenstein's monster, like from the novel, you know?"

Levi looked so calm, as though him not only attending a party, but also wearing a costume was a regular occurrence and not once in a lifetime event.

Erwin put a cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. Just one cigarette wasn't enough to get him through this bizarre conversation.

"So... if you're Frankenstein's monster...” Erwin said slowly, carefully. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Levi will be at the party. “Will there be a Frankenstein?"

"Of course, there will be Frankenstein. It’s obviously four-eyes," Levi huffed. "Who else could it be?"

Who else indeed. Erwin felt like an idiot. Truly, there was only one person in this world, who could force Levi to do something like this.

But the question was... Did it mean something?

"Oi," Mike appeared outside, joining them, before Erwin could ask that question. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing," Levi answered immediately .

Erwin shared a look with Mike. "Hange and Levi are going together to the Halloween party."

"Oh," Mike raised his eyebrows. "You finally decided to let people know?"

Levi stared at him. "What the fuck are you talking about? What do we need to let people know? That Hange has an annoying ability to pester people until they agree to do what she wants them to? It is hardly news for anyone."

Ah. That was it. Erwin shook his head, he shouldn't have expected anything else. Levi and Hange were the most oblivious people in existence. Everyone in the office knew about their feelings for each other. Everyone, except Levi and Hange. Erwin often wondered how two people can be so smart and so stupid at the same time. These two were obviously made for each other.

"So you two..." Mike trailed off, trying to find the best words. With Levi and Hange, one had to be as concrete as possible. "...Er, you did not confess to each other?"

"Confessed about what?" Levi scowled. "You both are so weird today," he turned around, throwing the cigarette butt into the nearest trashcan. "Whatever, I'm going inside. You shouldn't stay long as well. Your brains have obviously started to freeze."

Raising the collar of his coat higher, Levi hurriedly made his way back inside.

Mike and Erwin watched him go, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"I can't believe them," Mike muttered. "They're really doing a two-person costume, but they don't realize what people will think? Nanaba and I have never worn a couple costume, and we've been dating for four years!"

"It's an extremely difficult case," Erwin agreed with a sigh.

“You’re their boss, can’t you do something about it? Like order them to get their shit together and stop living in denial?” Mike asked almost desperately. “The stench of their pheromones is making me insane.”

Erwin looked up, lighting up another cigarette. “I don’t think anything can be done about it. We just have to wait and hope that they will realize it by themselves. Pushing them in that direction will only delay any possible development.”

“Jesus,” Mike shuddered. “These two are terrifyingly difficult.”

***

“Hey boss,” Nifa sat down at the edge of Hange’s desk with a cautious smile. Hange hated when someone interrupted her work. Unless that someone was Levi. Strangely, she didn’t seem to mind whenever he came up to her desk to engage in another round of meaningless bickering. Furthermore, Hange herself often took a break from her oh so precious work to go and find Levi, just so she could share some joke or pun with him. However, Nifa obviously was no Levi, so she had to resort to placating her superior with a cup of coffee.

If there was something Hange liked more than her work, it was coffee.

It seemed like Nifa’s plan was working out. Hange accepted the coffee, looking up at Nifa with a kind smile.

“Do you want something?” she murmured, taking a large gulp from the cup.

“Halloween is this Friday,” Nifa explained, tilting her head slightly. “What costume are you going to wear this year?”

Most of the people at their firm didn’t really bother with costumes. The majority just put on vampire teeth or painted their faces with fake blood and called it a day. Although this year, they had new interns, so maybe they would be able to spice things up a little. Personally, Nifa couldn’t wait to show off her Freddy Kruger costume.

And she was also dying to know what Hange was going to wear this year. She always went out of her way to come up with the most gorgeous and creative costumes. Last year she dressed up as a space pirate. And year before that she was a grim reaper. She even had a scythe! Nifa’s favorite, however, was that Halloween, when Hange wore a zombie costume. It was both disturbing and awesome – the look was completed by a part of brain, sticking out of Hange’s hair! She claimed that it was real, and Nifa, knowing her superior, wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.

“It’s nothing special this time,” Hange revealed. “A little boring even.”

“Oi, quit teasing,” Nifa chided. “Your costumes are never boring. So, what is it?”

“If you want to know so much,” Hange sighed, feigning indifference. However, a little twinkle in her eyes told Nifa that, despite her claims, Hange was excited about the costume. “I’m going as Frankenstein.”

“Frankenstein?” Nifa drew her eyebrows together. “Monster or a scientist?”

“Scientist.”

“Oh,” maybe, Hange was right after all. It did sound a little boring. “Why not a monster?”

“Levi is going to be my monster,” Hange confessed with a wide grin.

My monster?

Did that mean what Nifa thought it meant? She could ask Hange about it, of course, and she would probably answer, but still, asking her superior that kind of personal question felt a little too intrusive even for the great gossiper Nifa.

However, she could always take a less direct approach.

"I don't remember Levi ever attending the Halloween party," Nifa looked at Hange beneath her eyelashes. "It must have been hard to make him come this year."

"You bet it was," Hange agreed, pushing the glasses up on her head. "He had two conditions."

Nifa leaned closer. "What conditions?"

"Firstly, I have to learn how to brew tea the way he likes it."

That was.... so Levi, Nifa thought with an internal smile. Everyone in the office knew he was obsessed with tea. However, why did he need Hange to learn how to brew it? As far as Nifa knew, Levi didn't let anyone come near his precious tea stash. Was Hange an exception? If so, then why? Could it mean that they were much closer than just friends?

Still, it wasn't conclusive evidence. Nifa needed something more substantial.

"And secondly," Hange showed the exact number with her fingers. "Levi wants to wash my hair. He says it's dirty and sticky, and he hates the stench of my shampoo," Hange shrugged, while Nifa was too busy gaping at her. Levi wanted to wash her hair? Seemed a little too intimate even for the best friends.

"It isn't the worth deal," Hange continued, seemingly not seeing Nifa's bewilderment. "I mean Levi could have demanded to let him clean my apartment. He always complains that my sheets are too dirty."

How in the world Levi knew about the state of Hange’s sheets? There was only one possible explanation for this…

“So you and Levi are seeing each other?” Nifa finally asked. Screw the less direct approach. It clearly wasn’t working.

“Um, yes?” Hange frowned. “I do see Levi a lot. I mean we live in the same apartment complex and we often hang out after work, so…”

Nifa barely kept herself from groaning out loud. These two were impossible! She thought she was an expert in human interactions but these were terrifyingly complicated for her to figure out. They were either actually dating or they were the most oblivious people in existence. And Nifa suspected that the latter was, unfortunately, true.

"I... I have a lot of work," Nifa smiled apologetically and hopped off the table. The intricacies of relationship between Levi and Hange were causing her a headache.

“What did she mean by ‘seeing each other’?” Hange muttered to herself. “I know that Levi is short, but he’s not that small. Was that a hint that I should check my vision?” she wondered, putting her glasses back on her face and returning to her work.

*** 

"Why are you dressed like a snobby douche?" Connie asked Jean, as the latter approached him and Sasha. It was the evening of a Halloween party, and everyone gathered in the dimly lit and sparsely decorated with cobwebs and pumpkins main room, chatting among themselves.

"I'm Dracula, you idiot," Jean scoffed. "Besides, what are you even supposed to be?" he looked at Connie's face and body, covered in toilet paper. He plucked his lips in disgust. "Toilet monster?"

"Hey!" Connie cried out, while Sasha snickered in her palm. "I'm a mummy!"

Jean decided not to dignify it with a response.

"And you?” he turned to Sasha. “You are red riding hood, right?"

"Yes!" Sasha beamed. "Look! I even have a basket! Trick or treat, Jean!"

Sasha proudly showed him the aforementioned basket. It was full of sandwiches.

Jean sighed.

"Did you choose this costume just so you could sneak more food in here?"

"Maybe," Sasha shrugged, taking out one of the sandwiches and taking a bite. "Want some?"

"Um, no, thanks. Even if I wanted to," which he did not. Trying to separate Sasha and food was a dangerous affair. Jean had learned it firsthand. "I can't really eat with these things," he opened his mouth, showing them his fake fangs.

"Wow," Connie grinned. "There is even blood on them! Can I touch it?"

"No way!" Jean took a step back, putting his hands forward.

“Hey, look, look," Sasha tugged at Jean and Connie's arms. "Eren, Mikasa and Armin came."

"What the fuck." Jean stared at Eren, his hands clutching into fists. "That asshole, what the fuck is he wearing?"

"Oh, Jean, I think," Connie patted his shoulder. "Eren is Van Helsing."

"He is!" Sasha agreed, pointing at the wooden stake in Eren's hand.

"Motherfucker," Jean growled. "He knew I was going to dress as a vampire!"

"Calm down," Connie rolled his eyes. "And don't start another fight. At least wait until we're out of office."

"You can always beat him up in the parking lot!" Sasha giggled.

“Or, more probably, Mikasa will beat both of you up in the parking lot,” Connie mocked with a shit-eating grin. Sasha cheerfully high-fived him.

“Shut up, you idiots,” Jean gave them both a smack upside their heads. “I fucking hate that jerk," he muttered, glaring at Eren.

"His costume is nice, though," Connie noted.

"His mother probably helped to prepare it," Sasha nodded. "Armin looks adorable!" she added. "That Peter Pan costume suits him so much!"

"Looks like Mikasa isn't a fun of Halloween, though," Connie continued. "I mean what is she even supposed to be?"

"Maybe, a ghost?" Sasha offered, looking at Mikasa's white shirt and long skirt.

"If she wasn't constantly glued to Eren's side," Jean began bitterly. "I would have asked her to be my Morticia Addams."

"She would rock that look," Sasha said with a dreamy smile. "Although, you're nearly not as handsome as Gomez."

"Hey!" Jean protested. "I would have been great as Gomez. And you," he smirked. "You could have been Wednesday and Pugsley."

"Eugh," Sasha and Connie exclaimed in unison.

"Now I'm kinda glad that Mikasa rejected you," Sasha told him truthfully.

"Shut up,” Jean mumbled.

"By the way," Sasha opened another sandwich and started eating it. "Did any of you see Historia? I'm curious what is she wearing. Her costumes are always so cute!"

"She's dressed as Princess Leia," Connie replied. "She even has her own Han Solo."

"Let me guess," Jean said. "It's Ymir?"

"Of course, it's Ymir. Although, calling her Han Solo may be a stretch, she's just wearing her usual work clothes, but now she also put a vest on."

"Ah, I want to come and say hi!" Sasha announced with her mouth still full of sandwich. "Where have you seen them, Connie?"

Connie made a face. "Last time I saw them, Ymir was dragging Historia to a supply closet, so..."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I don't think they'll come out soon."

"Oi, look," Jean pointed at the entrance door. "That's Miss Hange."

"What is she supposed to be?" Connie scratched his neck, frowning in confusion. "Some kind of scientist?"

"No, she's Frankenstein," Jean replied.

"Now how did you guess that?" Connie asked, glaring up at Jean.

Jean didn't say anything, just showed Connie who was accompanying Hange.

"Oh." Connie breathed out.

"Oh!" Sasha exclaimed. "Who is that?”

Jean sighed.

“Sasha, pay attention please. Look at that guy’s height.”

“No way!” Sasha’s eyes widened. “It’s Mr. Ackerman?”

“I didn’t take him for a guy, who dresses up for a Halloween,” Connie mused.

“Neither did I,” Jean agreed.

“Hey, if they came together, does that mean they’re dating?” Sasha cocked her head to the side, observing the strange couple.

“Don’t know,” Jean shrugged. “I thought it was just some kind of a running joke.”

“Let’s go to them!” Sasha wrapped her arms around Jean and Connie’s shoulders, pushing them in the direction of Levi and Hange.

“Are you insane?” Jean hissed. “What are you even going to say to them?”

If Miss Hange was by herself, Jean wouldn’t have minded approaching her. She was nice, and really funny. Mr. Ackerman, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Whenever their eyes met, Jean felt an acute desire to hide under the table. Levi’s cold gaze terrified him.

“We won’t be talking to them,” Sasha assured him, leading them through the crowd of people. “I just want to take a better look. Mr. Ackerman’s make-up is amazing!”

Well, it was hard to argue with that. Levi wore a torn shirt and large jacket. His face was painted green with a few black stitches added on the side of his forehead. Jean had to admit, his costume was actually impressive. And Miss Hange, who was dressed in a white lab coat, which was purposefully dirtied with red and pink specks that were probably meant to represent the blood and parts of brain, with her big round glasses, crazy hair and even crazier grin, was a perfect Frankenstein. 

“Just be quiet,” Jean warned his friends, as they stopped a little distance away from Hange and Levi. “I don’t want to get in trouble with Mr. Ackerman.”

Connie and Sasha nodded and then the three of them turned their gazes at Frankenstein and her monster.

Hange and Levi stood in a corner, holding plastic cups in their hands. Hange was talking about something, energetically gesticulating. Her hands moved so wildly it looked like soon she’d spill the contents of her cup on the floor. Levi sighed and took the cup out of her hands. Hange smiled gratefully.

“Wait,” she stopped her rant and turned to face Levi. “Your make-up is smudged,” she reached out and moved her thumb across his cheekbone, gently wiping the paint.

“Of course, it’s smudged,” Levi grumbled with annoyed face. “It’s hot as fuck in here. Why there are so many people?”

“Because our firm is big?” Hange offered with a tiny grin.

Levi tsked. “Smartass. By the way, when was the last time you cleaned your glasses? I can see nothing but your fingerprints, four-eyes,” he plucked them off her face, scowling in disgust. Tugging at Hange’s coat, Levi used it to clean her glasses. Hange didn’t even try to protest, just watched Levi’s ministrations with an affectionate smile.

Jean, Connie and Sasha stared at them with wide eyes.

“They act so…” Connie began and then faltered.

“Domestic,” Jean finished for him. “Geez, they really are together.”

“I’ve never thought I’d say this about Mr. Ackerman,” Sasha admitted. “But they look adorable.”

“They do,” Connie agreed.

“C’mon,” Jean took Sasha and Connie by their sleeves. “Let’s leave them alone. I still need to settle a score with Eren.”

 ***

"Ymir, stop it," Historia hissed, trying to shake her girlfriend's hands off her waist. "People are watching."

"Let them watch," Ymir smirked, putting her chin on top of Historia's head. "They're just envious."

"You're insufferable," Historia huffed. She raised her head to press a kiss on Ymir's jaw. "Why do I even put up with you?"

"Because I'm hot? Because I'm hilarious? Because I'm excellent in bed?"

"Ymir!" A pretty blush appeared on Historia's cheeks. Ymir mentally patted herself on a head.

"Babe," she drew out, leaning to kiss behind Historia's earlobe. Ymir's hot breath made shivers run down her neck. "Let's ditch this party and go back to that closet. I'm so bored here."

"But look around!" Historia exclaimed, trying to ignore the growing desire inside her. "Everyone is dressed so nicely!"

"I don't really care, you know."

"You should," Historia muttered with a small pout. "Our friends came up with really original costumes!"

Ymir scoffed. "Kirschtein is dressed as Dracula. And Mikasa is the worst ghost I've ever seen. She could have put at least some effort."

"You're the one to talk," Historia rolled her eyes. "Putting on a black vest doesn't make you Han Solo."

"The costume itself doesn't matter, when I have the most important thing," Ymir lowered her voice to a seductive whisper. "My pretty Princess Leia."

"And our superiors picked cool outfits as well," Historia continued, ignoring Ymir. She wouldn't let her break her resolve so easily. They came to enjoy the party, not make out in supply closets. Even if the latter option started to look more and more appealing to Historia.

"Mr. Smith came as Indiana Jones!" she pointed at the tall blonde. "Doesn't he look handsome?"

"Yeah," Ymir replied unenthusiastically.

"And Mr. Zacharias! He's dressed as Thor!"

Ymir tilted her head, staring at Mike critically. He wore a cheap looking blonde wig and something that looked like more like red blanket than actual cape. "He's a mighty god of thunder, indeed," she deadpanned.

Historia ignored her once again.

"Miss Nanaba looks so pretty," she mused instead.

This time Ymir couldn't disagree. Nanaba was probably supposed to be Jack Skellington. And while the white make-up on her face was ridiculous, the suit fitted her perfectly, accentuating every curve of her thin but muscled body.

"What," Historia teased. "No sarcastic comment?"

Ymir shrugged. "You know how much I love women in suit."

"Asshole," Historia muttered, rolling her eyes.

“That's why you love me, babe."

Sometimes Ymir was so annoying, Historia thought as she stared at her cocky grin. It made her want to kiss her, just so she could wipe that smug expression off her face.

"I don't see Miss Hange by the way," Historia looked around in confusion. "I wanted to see her costume so much..."

Again, Ymir agreed with her girlfriend on that one. Hange was a lunatic, there was no denying that, and her excited energy was truly draining, but she was funny. Most of all, Ymir enjoyed watching Hange bicker with Levi, that permanently scowling midget. It was nice to see that shorty grit his teeth in annoyance, as Hange continuously teased him.

"Nifa told me that her costumes are always amazing," Historia hanged her head. "And Mr. Ackerman is absent as well..."

Well, that wasn't surprising in a slightest. Levi was definitely not the type to come to office parties.

"Forget about them. It's Halloween," Ymir kissed Historia’s cheek, trying to cheer her up. "I need my treat."

"You are really needy, are you aware of that?" Historia asked with a stern expression.

Ymir shrugged. Sure, she loved receiving attention from her super-hot girlfriend. If that made her needy, then so be it.

"That's a yes to a second round of make out session in the closet?"

Historia frowned, biting her lip. "What if this time someone catches us?"

"Who could catch us? I doubt that other interns will need that closet, unless Kirschtein and Yeager suddenly decide to let out their frustration with each other in a more productive manner than just screaming and waving their fists around. And everyone else here is clearly too boring and old to indulge in such activities."

"Fine," Historia finally surrendered. "But we won't stay there for long. I want to chat with some of our friends afterwards."

Ymir certainly didn't share the same sentiment, but, well, love is built on compromises, right?

She grabbed Historia by the hand, leading her to a closet with a wide grin on her face. Turning her around and holding her face between her palms, Ymir kissed her on the lips. With her back against the door, she pushed it open with her leg.

Historia froze.

"Babe?" worry reflected in Ymir's eyes, as she stared at her. Did she do something wrong?

Historia said nothing, just frantically pulled Ymir closer and then quietly closed the door. She didn't stop, and with her hands wrapped still around Ymir, Historia dragged her as far from the closet as possible.

"Hey, hey, what's up?" Ymir was barely able to keep up with Historia's hurried steps.

"There was someone in the closet," Historia whispered with a terrified expression.

"Someone?" Ymir frowned. "Who?"

"I don't know, I didn't get a good look, and the costumes really made it hard to recognize the faces," she pushed a stray lock behind her hair, her gaze darting around nervously.

"What were the costumes?" Ymir asked impatiently. Oh, she wanted to know who was making out in the closer so much! If she finds out, she'd tease that couple so hard!

"I... I think it was Frankenstein and his monster? I definitely saw a white coat and a green make-up.”

"Frankenstein and his monster?" Ymir snickered. "If I knew that the book portrayed that side of their relationship, I would have read it in high school."

"Ymir!" Historia scolded, smacking her forearm.

"Wait..." Ymir drew her eyebrows together, thinking. She scanned the crowd of her co-workers, checking her theory. "There are only two people who are absent from the party..."

"No way..." Historia breathed out, coming to the same conclusion. "Are you trying to say that it was Miss Hange and Mr. Ackerman?"

"Well, it looks that midget is getting his treat this Halloween. Good for him," Ymir said cheekily. "Let's go and tell these nerds about it."

"You want to tell everyone?" Historia looked at her worriedly. She looked so cute with her pursed lips and that little frown, Ymir's heart skipped a beat.

"Sure," she replied nonchalantly, trying to hide from Historia the fact that just a moment ago she was staring adoringly at her. "It's not like it'd be a secret to anyone. The way they constantly looked at each other, it was only a matter of time before they got their shit together."

"Alright, but let's not tell them how we found them in a supply closet."

"You're too kind," Ymir sighed, throwing a hand over Historia's shoulder. "But if you don't want to make them jealous, so be it."

Historia rolled her eyes, but couldn't resist the desire to press a swift kiss in the corner of Ymir's smirk. "Let's go already."

***

When almost half an hour later, Levi and Hange came back to the party, all eyes were on them. Hange's hair was in bigger state of disarray than usual and Levi's lips were red and swollen.

"I helped Levi fix the make-up," Hange explained, when they joined Erwin, Mike and Nanaba.

"Isn't a closet a little dark for that?" Erwin asked with a smirk. Beside him Nanaba and Mike could barely held in their laughter.

Levi's blush was visible even under the green paint. Hange nervously chuckled. None of them tried to deny it though. 

Erwin, Mike and Nanaba counted it as a success.