#i wanted him to look like he could literally leap onto and balance on his staff at a second's notice

[binx--the--jinx]

so a couple of friends showed me the canon design of the Monkey King in the Sonic universe, and then i was dared to draw my take on him, and thus..... this redesign was born!!

[animation-cartoon-fan-writings]

Chapter 13 of “Book 1: Beautiful Ghosts” is up now!!!

Summary: Aang tries to learn firebending to disastrous results

Here’s an excerpt:

Upon seeing his appearance outside of the cottage, Aang leaps up and approaches him with an eager demeanor. “What happened? Can I see Jeong Jeong now?,” the airbender asks excitedly. Looking downcast, Chey replies, “He won't see you. I’m very sorry, Avatar, but he wants you to leave immediately”. Aang’s smile falls, his face looking shocked. “What? Why won't he see me?,” he questions. “He says you're not ready. Says you haven't mastered waterbending and earthbending yet,” the former captain replies. Katara walks over to the two, telling Aang, “he does kind of have a point”. Undeterred, Aang declares, “I’m going in anyway!” before storming his way inside the cabin.

Katara tries to follow him in, but Chey blocks her path. “Don’t. Perhaps the Avatar might be able to persuade him,” he gives her a hopeful smile. Taking a deep breath, she takes a seat on a log, looking into her own reflection in the swampy waters. She feels Chey sit next to her with an empathetic smile. “Copper piece for your thoughts?,” he asks. Not really knowing how to take that offer, she decides to ask him something that had been on her mind for a while. “Chey, you said you were once a top captain for the Fire Navy. So, what was it like, y’know, doing what you were doing?,” she inquires, curiously. Chey replies, “To be honest, it felt great in the moment. The Fire Nation was all I knew. I grew up dreaming of being a Fire Navy Captain. But, once the high settled in, I don’t know, I guess it just wasn’t what I had once believed it to be. I discovered a lot of things that contradicted what I had always been taught. Thr last war meeting I had attended was the last straw. After that, I couldn’t in good faith support my country as it is currently run”. As the waterbender looks at the man through the reflection in the water, it began to feel as if the image of everyone in the Fire Nation she had held onto for so long, the image of power-hungry elites in fine robes getting their satisfaction from hurting those they feel are inferior to them, was finally beginning to crack. “Do you still love the Fire Nation?,” she asks. “Of course. I love my country. I always will. That’s why I left. I knew that by supporting the current regime, I would be aiding in its destruction. I needed to leave so that I can be part of restoring balance to the world, so that way, once the Fire Lord finally falls, we can start restoring it back to its true honor and glory by helping others,” he answers with an optimistic smile.

Katara thought about how she had previously thought of the Fire Nation, as well as its people. How even those at the very top had good hearts and just wanted what they believed was best for their homeland. Those thoughts then began to gravitate to thoughts of Zuko. Could he be in a similar position? Is that even possible? The waterbender shakes those thoughts away. Zuko is the crowned prince. The next in line to the Fire Nation throne. The fate of his whole identity literally depends on the Fire Nation winning the war. There’s no way he could just be blind to the reality of how much hurt the nation has caused the rest of the world. Or is there?

“It’s getting late. I should probably get some rest, anyway. Thanks for the talk,” the waterbender nervously stammers as she stands up and walks over to Appa, not even waiting to hear Chey’s response.

These thoughts and feelings for Zuko better stop by morning

To read more, here’s the link:

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Thank you

[andypantsx3]

i could literally die right now + either deku or kirishima, andie u pick!

Surprise I picked not Deku because I was scared lmao.

Falling | Kirishima/Reader

Prompt: “I could literally die right now” Word Count: 1220 words Tags/Warnings: pro hero AU, fluff, SFW Notes: Thank you @bobawithpomegranate for beta reading!!

It had been ten minutes since the last time you had felt your arm.

It was currently wedged sideways between the door of the subway and a particularly sour looking salaryman, whose scowl was so intimidating you didn’t dare ask him to free up some space for you. Not that there was any space for him to shift into, as the entire car was packed like a sardine can. 

You had no space to go either, balanced precariously over what looked like a college student dead asleep in his seat, wet locks of red hair spilling out from under the hood of his sweatshirt. This close, you could catch the lingering scent of some orange peel body wash, a welcome reprieve from the other smells that came with close train quarters.

He was cute, even with his features slack in sleep, a tiny scar over one eyelid, and looking bone-deep exhausted like he’d just come from an athletic meet. If the wet hair and telltale swell of muscle under his Crimson Riot hoodie was any judge, he probably had. Not that you had been staring long enough to speculate…

You were still looking—not staring—when the salaryman next to you shifted, and you felt the familiar prickle of blood flow returning to your arm. You wrenched your arm from between the man and the door—only to find that had been the only thing stabilizing you as the train lurched to a stop. You stumbled, hands grasping at the air in front of the salaryman. His eyes met yours, and in a moment that seemed to stretch for a small eternity, he moved minutely backwards.

Your hands clenched just short of the fabric of his suit and you tripped sideways. 

Directly onto the lap of the sleeping student.

The sharp bone of his knee slammed into the side of your thigh as you went down, hard, your cheek stinging where it met the jut of his collarbone. You were frozen in shock for a moment, limbs locked up, before you were sliding sideways, angled towards the floor.

There was a startled snuffling noise, and a strong arm locked around your waist, hauling you back up against a hard chest.

You cringed, flushing all the way down to your toes. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

You looked up, only for your tongue to freeze in your mouth. Looking up at you was not a sleeping college student. With his eyes open and a small grin bearing those trademark sharp teeth of his, you suddenly realized exactly who it was you were using as a seat—pro hero Red Riot. 

Though he was fresh enough on the hero scene that it was possible for him to take the train like this without being recognized, you imagined it wouldn’t be long before that would have to stop. Though you knew little about heroes, even you knew he was rocketing up the ranks, fueled by his boyish charm, roguish good looks, and a frankly illegal set of washboard abs custom-made for magazine spreads.

Washboard abs that you could currently feel pressed up against the side of your arm.

Your brain rapidly entered panic mode and you tried to throw yourself sideways off of him, but Red Riot caught you again, laughing wryly.

“Careful there!” he said, “You almost ate floor. Wouldn’t want you to bang up that cute face of yours.”

Then he paused, seeming to realize what he’d said, a hint of a blush speckling his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “Uh, I mean—”

Your brain went entirely offline as you gaped at him. Had he just tried to fan service you? How did he even know you knew who he was? Were you that obvious?

God this was so embarrassing.

“No, it’s okay!” you yelped, “You don’t need to apologize, I know my face isn’t actually—uh—you know. Anyway—thanks. Yeah, thanks for saving me, you—”

The crackle of the overheard interrupted you, the train conductor’s staticky voice announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologize for the delay. We’ve got an obstruction on the track, we will be delayed just a short couple of minutes.”

Red Riot was staring at you through the announcement, a little wrinkle appearing between his brows. “What do you mean your face isn’t actually—? Actually what?”

Your entire face went hot. Oh my god, did he want to have this conversation? For real? You didn’t need reassurances, you needed to get off of his lap and disappear, stat. You wondered how feasible it was to pry open the doors and leap out into the subway tunnel, to disappear into the darkness and never be seen on the surface of the earth again.

That was the only solution here.

“This is so embarrassing, I could literally die right now,” you said instead, moving to clamber off of him. “I’m going to get off now, I’m sorry I fell on you.”

Red Riot’s arm clamped down, however, jerking you back against him. When you looked up at him, he seemed just as shocked as you were by the move.

“Sorry, reflex,” he said, shifting uncomfortably underneath you. It only emphasized the firmness of the muscles under you and you wondered frantically if the flames of your embarrassment might burn so hot that you would actually catch on fire.

The train conductor’s voice crackled back to life, “Ladies and gentleman, please don’t be alarmed. There is a fight taking place on the track and we have been asked to shelter in place. Please remain calm and stay in your seats, we will be passing along directions from the Public Safety Commission as they arrive.”

Red Riot perked up underneath you. “A fight! That’s my cue! I’m um, a hero—I don’t know if you’ve heard of me? I go by Red Riot...” 

You nodded vaguely. He knew you knew, didn’t he? Why else would he have said the fan service thing…?

Red Riot smiled, another flash of those sharp teeth. Then he stood up abruptly, hefting you in his arms and whirling to place you gently down in his seat, still warm from his presence. Your face went impossibly hotter, a weird fire starting in your abdomen at the casual show of strength. You stared up at him with wide eyes.

Red Riot smiled again, then rummaged around in his pocket for something, movements rushed.

“I, um, don’t have a lot of time right now. Gotta get to the fight,” he said, producing a pen. You wondered what he was doing with it, until he took your hand, flipping your palm up.

The pen pressed into the skin of your palm and you thought for a moment that he was signing his autograph, until he capped it. “Don’t feel any pressure. Only if you want! I just thought I’d take a chance since it literally fell into my lap. I’ll, um, maybe see you later,” he said. 

“If I don’t ‘literally die right now,’ that is,” he added, laughing.

And then he was gone, pushing through the crowd of people to get to the door of the train.

You looked down at your hand. In an untidy scrawl, he’d written:

Eijirou Kirishima

And underneath:

080-1XXX-5678. Date?

You covered your face, your cheeks burning. Oh yeah. You could literally die right now.

Current event masterlist in pinned.

[tothemeadow]

Art trade with @azurenocturne​

Art originally done by @ Lsjenjen on twitter

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

- Kyojuro decides to take your relationship to the next level while teaching you how utterly amazing you are, no matter what anyone else says. -

warnings: NSFW, oral sex, mentions of emotional abuse, Douma is kind of a dickhead

words: 2k

-

“You’re doing it again.”

Snapping away from your reverie, you nearly drop your phone as you fumble around, embarrassment heating up your insides. You hadn’t even realized you were spacing out again. Still, Douma cracks a smile. You tense as he reaches over the table, the rings adorning his fingers catching the afternoon light streaming in through the windows. He merely pats the crown of your head with a gentle touch; you know that this is all for show since the two of you are in public. While Douma has never struck you during the course of your relationship, he isn’t gentle either.

“Stupid girl,” he mutters. “There isn’t anything that important in your life to distract you this much.”

Ah, there it is.

You’re used to the biting words, the snarky comments, the endless insults. On some days, it’s like his sole mission in life is to yell at you constantly, but what can you do about it? It is your fault, after all. Maybe if you had your head on straight or weren’t so sensitive, things could be better for you in life.

You swallow dryly. The plate of half-eaten food sitting in front of you doesn’t even look appetizing anymore. “I’ve got exams coming up, you know that,” you tell him, voice low. You know better than to talk back to him, especially when you’re in public like this.

With a scoff, Douma leans back in his seat. It’s unfair that he’s still unbelievably attractive even when irritated; strong jaw set, eyes heavy lidded, and birch hair pulled up high, he looks like he’s ready to set foot out on the runway rather than be sitting here on a lunch date with you. The houndstooth material of his jacket ruffles as he crosses his arms. He’s just so pretty, incredibly so, and you’d be damned if you said you couldn’t bear to stare at him all day.

“Well, you’re with me,” he spits. “Exams be damned.”

“Douma, you know I can’t fail these courses if I want to graduate-“

“I don’t care,” Douma interrupts. “Christ, all I did was ask you out to lunch, and all you do is think about it your classes? What am I, chopped liver?”

“No,” you say frantically, “of course not. I’m sorry. Please… Please don’t be mad.”

Douma sighs. His expression softens, then; getting up from his chair, he opts to take the spot next to you instead. “I know you’re sorry, my little cherub. You know all I want to do is to be stuck in that pretty little head of yours, right?” With a gentle hum, he slings an arm around your shoulder and nuzzles the top of your head. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

It’s those simple words that makes your tummy flutter and the ice around your heart to melt. This is why you love Douma, after all. Sure, he can be mean sometimes, but he means well.

A smile blossoms across your face as you lean into his warmth. “I promise.”

-

When it comes to playing life, you always act the fool.

Words are cheap, enough said. It just so happens that Douma’s are practically dirt.

Although he knows you’re sorry about focusing on your studies lately, it’s almost if he never drops the subject. He has a point though – he is your boyfriend, after all. It’s just your fault that you have the improper abilities of juggling your love life and schooling at the same time. It’s when he’s attending his own classes that you’re finally able to breathe, even though you feel guilty about thinking that way in the first place.

You still can’t shake off the guilt as you venture through the school’s library, browsing for books your professor recommended for you to better understand the material. It’s a slow process, your eyes scanning over each of the exposed spines. “No… no… no… “ you say to yourself, the quiet mantra continuing on while your search comes up with nothing. “Dammit, why can’t I – ah!”

Before you know it, your body is colliding into someone else’s; as you’re about to take an inevitable tumble and land on your ass, a strong hand grasps onto your forearm while another lands on the small of your back.

“Whoa there! Sorry about that!” a deep, attention-getting voice whisper-yells.

As you open your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them to begin with), your met with a boy around your age, eyes bright and blond hair held back with a backwards ballcap. As he flashes you a cheeky smile, you’re struck by how white his teeth are compared to his golden skin, the sharp line of his jaw. Your heart thuds in your chest, and for good reason, too – this man is hot.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” this stranger continues. He pulls you upright, making sure you’re properly balanced before giving you a onceover to check for any bruises.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you say awkwardly. It’s incredible how quickly your body heats up under his gaze despite literally just bumping into the guy. “I wasn’t paying attention anyway, it’s all my fault-“

“Hey,” he interrupts, his eyes crinkling even further, “I wasn’t paying attention either. Don’t take all the blame for yourself, eh?” He sticks out a hand, then, the prominent veins in his forearm and hand instantly catching your attention. “Rengoku Kyojuro, at your service. You can just call me Kyojuro, though.”

Kyojuro.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. You wonder how it tastes on your tongue, how your lips feel when you say it. “Kyojuro,” you say, testing it out. You immediately decide you like it. Grasping onto his hand, you introduce yourself, an easy smile making its way onto your features before you even realize it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Right back at ya,” he chirps.

His hand is large and warm. In fact, heat seems to radiate off his body, tempting you to lean in and hold him close.

“Say,” Kyojuro says, a hopeful glint shining in his eyes, “do you want to grab a coffee or something?”

Your heart nearly gets stuck in your throat. For a moment, you think of Douma and what he would he say if he found out about you grabbing coffee with some other guy. However, Kyojuro just seems so nice and, well, perfect.

“Yeah,” you tell him, “I’d love to.”

-

After that fateful meeting, things started to change.

During the free moments you had, you would meet up with Kyojuro, either to go out to eat or simply have a study session together. You quickly found yourself thoroughly enjoying his company, and all for the right reasons. Despite his excitable, bold behavior, he was kind, more so than most people you know. You craved to be in his presence, to have his pearly smile directed at you. Hell, even the thought of him made your heart throb.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Douma to start noticing your “odd” behavior. You acted distant whenever the two of you were together, so much more… closed. What really got him, though, was when he confronted you about it. I found someone else, you had told him, face and voice equally solemn. This is the end of us. Even you were shocked by the mere fact that you had dumped him; after all this time, you were finally free of his cruel words and the endless pain.

“You’re doing it again, sweetie.”

Just like that, you’re snapping back to reality and away from your thoughts. “Sorry,” you mutter, “I was just thinking of… things.”

Even after a few months of ditching Douma for Kyojuro, you still find yourself spacing out. Kneeling on the bed like this, your hand hangs in the air, absentmindedly holding a brush while the other is still holding onto Kyojuro’s blond locks. Turning around fully, Kyojuro’s thick brows furry together as a glint of worry sparks in his eyes. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges, taking your face into his hands. “I am not Douma. I’ll never be like him, you got it?” Gently stroking your cheek, he flashes you a soft smile. “I couldn’t bear to put you in pain like that, my sweets. You’re too special for anything like that.”

Oh god, he’s so gentle, so freaking sweet that you’ll get a toothache. As cheesy as it sounds, your heart yearns for him, for his promises, and for his loving touches. You don’t think you’ve ever met someone like this in your life.

“So please,” Kyojuro continues, gaze dropping to your mouth, “trust me.”

And you do. For the love of everything high and mighty, you trust this guy with your entire being. The kiss you two share starts off slow, yet it’s so full of unspoken feeling that it makes your heart soar. You can’t deny the fact that his hands feel good as they trail lower, brushing over your neck and shoulders before settling on your waist. Hell, you love it when he presses you onto your back, his weight hovering over you protectively. Like this, Douma can’t hurt you. Douma can’t even get near you, not when Kyojuro is around, not when he’s treating you this softly.

It didn’t take very long for you to confide in Kyojuro about how your relationship with Douma went. Appalled by Douma’s so-called methods, Kyojuro promised to treat you like the queen you are because you deserve it.

Even as you quake, Kyojuro holds you steady. And he’s always so warm, so wonderfully warm as he rids you of your shirt before following suit. Your fingers drift over the swell of his pectorals, the divots of his abs. Now, things have escalated between you two before, but nothing to this extent. The last person you slept with was Douma, and even then he would degrade you and make you feel like utter trash. But no, not with Kyojuro. Never with Kyojuro.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mutters, mouth slanting over your neck and down your chest. Your heart quickens as mouths your breasts, hands slipping around and unhooking your bra. “And you’re so soft and sweet…” Trailing off, he lifts himself back up, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re perfect, (y/n). I’ll be damned if anybody tells you differently.”

Heart leaping to your throat, you sling your arms around his broad shoulders and pull him back into a kiss. You refuse to let yourself shed any tears, but you can’t deny the dampness gathering in your eyes.

“Pretty girl,” Kyojuro says, mouth beginning its descent once more. This time, he carries on past your chest, lips brushing against your tummy as he carefully removes your pants. Your fingers comb through his hair as little gasps slip through your lips; nuzzling you through your panties, he openly gropes your thighs and ass, deep, rumbling moans vibrating in his chest.

“Kyojuro,” you breathe, back arching as he yanks down your panties and presses his mouth against your quivering pussy. His movements remain slow, but the deep stroke of his tongue inside your pussy or the strong suckling on your clit has you seeing stars. His bright eyes never leave your face, a lustful yet loving expression carved into his handsome features. A slight yank on his hair has him redoubling his efforts; easily bending your thighs to your chest, he works at your pussy vigorously, the lewd noises and his husky groans filling your ears.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, thick fingers slipping past your folds. You keen at the touch, your velvety walls fluttering around his digits. “You’re wonderful, my sweets,” he coos, pressing his mouth to the inside of your knee in a quick kiss. “I love you.”

“Kyojuro, please,” you pant. The tears building up in your eyes finally break free as you reach out towards him. “Make love to me… won’t you?”

Drawing away from your dripping pussy, Kyojuro hovers over you, a dazzling grin painted on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. I… I trust you, my love.”

Hearing the pet name tumble from your mouth has Kyojuro’s eyes crinkling. “Anything for you, sweetie,” he purrs, reaching down and undoing his pants. “Everything for you.”

[ratcatcher0325]

Nobody’s Fool (Birthday One Shot)

Thank you @angelic-mini for this brilliant request/idea! Based on THIS post. This is like ALL the fluffy fluff! Enjoy!

CW: Adult Language

Tag list: @gatlily @grbene @patrocolus3 @lucentbliss @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien, @angelic-mini, @thegodmother007

Read all of Nobody’s Fool HERE.

________________________________________

NOBODY’S FOOL

One Shot: Careful Composition 

Word Count: 2,672 Read Time: Approx. 20 mins

[Eveline’s POV]

The rain thudded softly against the window pane, while Penn played something gentle and soft, sliding between bar chords with ease. He was propped up on the arm of the couch, his legs outstretched, and crossed at the ankles. He hummed quietly to himself, watching the drops of water race each other down the glass.

I was curled up on the opposing side, my sketch pad in my lap, pretending I was getting work done, while loving the wonderful little scene unfolding before me. His mindless picking was enchanting, and the way the diffused grey of the afternoon sky bounced off of his raven curls, he looked absolutely perfect. I felt my face flush with color, as my fingers gripped the graphite pencil a bit harder. I couldn’t help myself, I had to draw him, my client work be damned.

I took a deep breath and tried to appear nonchalant. I didn’t want him to catch me staring. As the silken lines of gray on white began to take shape, I flashed my eyes in his direction more and more. Suddenly his soft, sweet melody stopped cold, a hint of a smirk on his face.

“You know, I can tell you’re not getting work done… what’re you drawing?” He looked up at me, challenging my resolve with his sharp, dazzling gaze. I swallowed.

“I am working! Thank you! Besides how can you tell from all the way over there?”

He just raised his brows as he sat up, leaning over the body of his guitar, “What’re you drawing, Eveline? Is it me? Am I distracting you??” The smirk broadened into a wide, cocksure smile. He was teasing me, a mischievous glint brightening his little eyes.

I couldn’t help the blush that painted my cheeks, “You just mind your own business, mister! Don’t you have songs to write or something?” This did nothing to dampen his curiosity, in fact, it just encouraged him to probe further. In a quick flurry of tiny movements, he raised his guitar over his head and leapt to his feet. Before I could even form the words to chastise him, he was clinging to the back of the sofa, and scrambling upwards. “Excuse me, what’re you doing??”

“Just answer the question, Eveline, and I won’t have to come over there to survey the evidence myself!” He was puffing as he made his way to the back cushion of the sofa, arms and legs all akimbo. It was positively adorable. I wanted to reach over and scoop him up but it was equally as entertaining to watch him make a fool of himself all on his own. Finally, hand over fist, he’d managed to climb to the top of the couch, balancing on the back cushions, he ran over to me as fast as he could, even as the undulating leather created hills and valleys for him to deftly navigate. I watched him carefully, ready to catch him if he fell, while also giggling in protest as he closed the gap between us.

“No! You stay away! I’m totally working, I swear to god!!” I held up my hands in defense. For such a little thing, he was fast! He clamored up to me in practically no time at all. I tried my best to hide the evidence.

“Eveline Lancaster, don’t you dare turn that page!” He leaped from the couch onto my hand, clinging on for dear life to my thumb and curled fingers.

“Woah! What the fuck are you doing?? What is wrong with—“

“Ah HA! I knew it! I knew you were a big fat liar! That’s me! In plain black and white! I caught you red-handed! Literally!” While still gripping on to me with his left arm, he pointed emphatically at the page before him with his right, little legs swinging wildly over the back of my hand. Gingerly, I scooped him up in my left palm, supporting his back and legs, coaxing him to let go of his grip on my right.

“Alright! Alright! Guilty as charged! Now let go!” He clung to my fingers, beaming, his face flushed as his hair hung in his eyes. This was hilarious for him, he was having the time of his little life, “Penn, let go!”

“No! Not until you promise to let me return the favor!” I raised him up to just before my eyes, both of his little hands gripping my pointer finger, I kept my other hand below him in case he wanted to relax and let go, but he just swung there, all five and one quarter inches of his little body just before my face.

“What on earth does that mean?”

“Well, it’s not fair! You get to draw me all the time, you keep distracting me from my work—“

“I’m the one distracting you??”

“Shhh, you’re the guilty party here, lemme finish!” I couldn’t help smirking at his playful insistence, “It’s only fair that I sketch you for once, while you’re just trying to go about your business. Then you’ll know how it feels!”

“Oh, you act like you hate it! I know you love all my stupid drawings of you, you little ham!” He dropped down into my waiting palm, wriggling into a seated position with his legs swinging over the side. I rustled his hair with a finger tip, while he crossed his arms.

“Don’t try to sweep this under the rug by being sweet, I’m not falling for it! I want retribution and I want it now. Give me some graphite and a blank page, or it will cost you dearly…”

“Oh, yeah?? And what’re you gonna do, little man?”

“No cuddles for a week. I’ll sleep on the opposite side of the bed—“

“No! You wouldn’t dare!

“And, you’ll get zero kisses for three whole days!”

“Damn you. You’ve got me backed into a corner, don’t you?”

“Check, and mate…”

“Ugh!! Fine! You drive a hard bargain!” He jumped for joy, scrambling to his hands and knees inside my palm, he bent down and kissed the pad of my thumb. I couldn’t help my flushed face and rapidly increasing pulse. I loved this little menace with my whole heart.

*******

She rolled her eyes as she gently placed me on the back of the couch. I was practically giddy, as I watched her turn to a fresh, blank page four times as big as I was. I loved sitting up here, from this position we were eye level with one another. Why hadn’t I thought of coming up here sooner?

As I was admiring the way the light from the window ignited her eyes, I suddenly found them trained on me. My heart skipped a beat and my lips parted slightly. I couldn’t help but melt under the gaze of that gorgeous stormy sea. I could feel my face getting hotter before I shook myself. I was the one making demands here, no time to get all soft. She held one of her marbled green drawing pencils up between us. “See? This is how you know I really love you…” I wondered for just a moment what she meant, before she gripped the sharpened end of the writing utensil and snapped off the graphite tip. Oh, artists! So dramatic!

She balanced the broken point on the pad of her index finger and held it before my chest. I wrapped a fist around it. It was a pretty good size, maybe still a bit too large, but I was able to grab onto it well enough. She leaned over the couch and placed the pad of paper on the seat opposite her, before turning back to me, offering her cupped hands. “Come here, little Rubens… show me watcha got….” I had no idea who that was. As I climbed into her warm, familiar palm, I felt a pang of nerves wash over me, rattling me to my core. I was suddenly very nervous. Up until this point, it’d been all fun and games, now I had to actually try to draw her, the love of my life, when I’d never tried to sketch a damn thing in my life!

It can’t be that hard, right? I pulled my t shirt collar away from my throat. Oh calm down, if it’s terrible we can laugh about it, it doesn’t really matter! Just chill out!

She set me down on the paper, facing her. I felt pitifully small, sitting on the expanse of white that could easily fit in her lap. She stared at me, her arm propping up her head as she smirked. “Well what’re you waiting for, Michelangelo?” I’d heard that name before, at least.

I puffed up my chest, “Prepare to have your likeness expertly captured!” She threw her hand over her mouth as she giggled and rolled her eyes. We were pretty far apart, but since she was so much bigger, I could still see all of her details clearly. I swallowed and turned my attention to the page. Obviously, I wasn’t going to be using the whole blank space, I just settled for making something scaled to me. It’d be far easier to keep track of what I was doing anyway. With a flushed face and shaky hands, I got to work.

I could hear her softly chuckle above me and I shot up my head, “Not as easy as you thought, huh? Where’s all that sass and swagger now?”

“Shut up! Let me craft my art in peace!” She couldn’t help laughing at that. I crouched over my sketch and cupped an arm defensively around it. I honestly wasn’t sure if that did anything at all to hide it from her downward gaze.

******

His adorable little attempt to hide his work from me did absolutely nothing. I peered down with delight as his head swiveled from me to the page and then me again. What did make it difficult to discern, however, was just how positively minuscule the drawing was. I watched with fascinated adoration as he made marks on the page I couldn’t even make out from this vantage point.

“You done yet?? I don’t have all day to sit around and be your muse!”

“You’re telling me! See? This is what it’s like! The pressure! The scrutiny! Now you understand what a difficult life I lead! Be patient! I’m almost finished!” God, I love this dramatic little man. I just stared at him dreamily as he droned on. Could he get any cuter? “Done!”

“Where’s Riley? We need a drum roll!” He cracked a smile as I offered him my hand. He climbed in as I lifted up the pad of paper beneath his little feet. I balanced him in my cupped hand, his arms crossed over the side of my pointer finger, my thumb supporting his back while his legs dangled freely. I leaned back into the couch, getting comfy, while I settled the sketch pad into my lap. What I saw genuinely impressed me. It was positively tiny no bigger than my thumbprint, but it was unmistakably me. “Wait, wait, I need to get a magnifying glass to see this in all its itty bitty details…”

He rubbed the back of his neck as his face burned, “Or, or you could not…”

“Oh! How the mighty have fallen! You’re all bark and no bite aren’t ya?” I held him up to my eyes, he avoided my gaze, his head propped in his hand. I stroked the side of his face with a gentle finger tip, “Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed… you know I think the world of you, right?” I tipped his chin to face me, “Honestly, it would be cosmically unfair if you were a savant at music and visual art. Stop stealing all my skills, I won’t have anything cool left over to brag about!” He beamed, comforted. I carried him with me to grab a magnifying glass from my desk across the room. He sat there, quiet as a mouse, light as a feather. If I focused closely, I could feel the pounding of his tiny heart against my fingers. I just wanted to hold him forever and never let his feet touch the ground. Was that too much to ask?

We returned to the couch, and this time, I got to really look at what he’d drawn.

*********

“Penn…. Oh my god…”

I hung my head in embarrassment, waiting for her to burst into laughter at my pathetic little effort.

“What’re you turning all red for? This is great!” She lifted me up and kissed the side of my blushing face. I met her gaze, earnestly wondering if she meant it or was just flattering me. “I’m serious! Look at your use of hatching, my eyes look incredibly detailed. Is it perfect? No. But it’s a great first try. You, sir, are too talented for your own good.”

That made me puff up my chest and smile, “Ha! See? Now you understand the flip side. Maybe now you’ve learned your lesson and you won’t bother very busy musicians when they’re trying extremely hard to work…” As I returned to the game and continued to speak, I felt my whole world flip as air rushed past me and entangled my hair and I found myself lying flat on my back, the pad of a finger pressed over my lips, muzzling me into silence.

“Hush, you little idiot. We both know it strokes your ego to be drawn by me. You can stop with the whole pity party.”

Using significant effort from both arms, I pried her finger away, “But—“

“Uh uh,” her fingers descended all around me, “If you don’t stop, I’ll have to punish you…” she scowled in a mocking threat, “I will never put you down and subject you to a million kisses every hour, like this!” Her lips cascaded over every inch of my body as she delicately kissed me. I twisted and writhed, crying out like this was the worst treatment imaginable.

“No!!!! I won’t submit to you, you evil monster! Torture me all you want with your nauseating love! I’ll never be silenced!!”

“Then never-ending kisses, you shall endure!”

“Yes!! Wait… I mean, noooooo!!” We both burst into uncontrollable, side-splitting laughter. Tears sprung in both our eyes, and as we hastily wiped them away, I felt her gaze on me, as her finger tip came to rest over my heart. Could she tell it was beating twice as fast beneath her touch? I gripped her nail with my hand.

“I love you, Penn.” she breathed, stormy irises sparkling.

“I love you, too.” More than I can ever express. She pinched my ribcage beneath my arms and raised me up into her cupped hand, holding me aloft at eye level.

“Now, we both do have actual shit to get done, so I guess we’d better get focused huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I, clearly, have no issues sitting still and staying quiet… you on the other hand…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Fuck you, little man. We’re not doing this all over again.” I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. She bit her lip. Gingerly, she sat me back down on the arm where my abandoned guitar was waiting patiently for me. She pressed a finger to my chest again, “Be a good tiny musician and I’ll do the same. Then, maybe we can find something else fun to do on this rainy day.”

“You’re a tiny musician too? I had no idea!”

“Oh my fucking god, shut up!” We both beamed at each other.

In a few moments, we were back to the sounds of rain drumming on glass, the swish of pencil on paper, and little broken melodies plucked out by me. I drew a lungful of air and sighed, brimming with gratitude. How could I have—

******

—Gotten so lucky?

I loved this tiny man with every part of myself. I couldn’t wait to see what came next for us.

________________________________

Read all of Nobody’s Fool HERE. 

[labarch]

Witch Hats and Prejudice Part II

<-- Part I

Olruggio, my love, my man, I’m sorry your proposal to Qifrey in chapter 40 didn’t go as you hoped, let’s sit down and discuss your workaholism, temper issues and saviour complex, yes? Yes. It’s couple therapy time at last, we’ll have a look at Qifrey and Olruggio’s relationship and at chapter 40 in particular through the following points:

-Panelling in the Orufrey conversation in chapter 40

-Prejudice and power imbalance in Qifrey and Olruggio’s interactions

-Help as a collaboration between equals (spoiler: they haven’t made it to that stage yet)

-What Olruggio wants from Qifrey

 Panelling in the Orufrey conversation in chapter 40

The conversation in chapter 40 is never framed as a happy reunion. If we reuse the analysis of the panels from Coco and Qifrey’s conversation I made in my previous post, we find the same markers of unease between Olruggio and Qifrey. Most of the panels are narrow, and get darker and darker as night falls. Qifrey and Olruggio rarely share a panel, and even when they do, they rarely make direct eye contact: Qifrey looks down, or Olruggio walks away from him, or they are curled in on themselves or standing on a slope at different eye level. For a while Qifrey is up in the air and mostly talking to himself. Oh yeah, and there’s a hat that gets in the way at some point.

It gives the sense that they are having two separate conversations, and that they never truly achieve the connection that we saw between Qifrey and Coco. On top of that, while the conversation is supposed to be about comforting Qifrey and earning his trust, Olruggio never manages to get a smile out of him, except for wobbly, miserable little grimaces. So what’s going through both of their heads, and why are they failing to meet halfway?

The chapter has an outward pull to it. The scene takes place on a slope that leads away from the atelier. The chapter opens with a herd of dragons flying away and into the night. Then Qifrey takes flight to look into the distance, while giving a very contradictory speech about how fulfilling yet dull his life is here, how happy yet trapped in an illusion he feels. He has to hold on to his cape as it flaps in the wind. It brings those dragons back to mind, like they are a metaphor for the side of him that wishes to escape. Qifrey’s migration season is just starting folks, it’s a confusing time for him okay.

In contrast to Qifrey looking ahead into a dark wilderness, Olruggio in this chapter is almost always looking back. He walks away from Qifrey to talk to him over his shoulder, or he looks back towards the atelier. In the only scene where he faces Qifrey full-on, the past is so present on his mind that he de-ages them both. It’s interesting, because it adds a caveat to his pledge of listening to everything Qifrey has to say: he is not so much trying to adapt to Qifrey’s new situation as he is trying to bring them back to the childhood stage of their friendship, when they were always together and kept no secret.

This whole looking ahead / looking back dichotomy brings me back to the mentality of the Great Hall, a society obsessed with keeping itself in an insulated bubble, wrapping itself in good intentions and noble ideals, and ignoring its own inner darkness and complexity. Qifrey, because of his inability to be content and stay in place, threatens that delicate balance. That sends the other witches around him into such a state of panic and outrage that even those who genuinely love him end up lashing out at him with uncharacteristic brutality.

Prejudice and power imbalance in Qifrey and Olruggio’s interactions

I have described in my previous post how vicious and oddly personal Beldaruit got in his attacks against Qifrey in chapter 36, but you can make the same case for Olruggio, especially since the two scenes run in parallel. There is something excessive about the violence with which Olruggio confronts his friend. For one, he is choosing a hell of a time to do it: the girls are safe, there is no urgency to press Qifrey for answers right this instant – except if he is hoping to shock Qifrey into honesty while he’s disoriented. Qifrey has just woken up from a three-day coma; he is half-naked in a place Olruggio knows worsens his nightmares; his scar is exposed; he is half-blind because Olruggio has taken his glasses; Olruggio is literally an angry dark blob looming over him. I’ve often heard it say that Qifrey is manipulative towards Olruggio, but in return Olruggio isn’t above using intimidation tactics against him, consciously or not.

There is also the staggering lack of empathy of the approach: what started this whole thing is that Olruggio learnt about Qifrey’s impending blindness. And his knee-jerk reaction was to attack Qifrey about it. Like, um, my dude, your friend almost died, he is going to go blind and lose his job, you wanna try being sensitive about it? (Note that Qifrey running after the Brimhats didn’t trouble Olruggio that much at first: after his interview with the Knights Moralis he is mainly concerned with “getting his story straight with Qifrey”; it’s only later on, when we see him staring at the glasses he’s just repaired, that he starts voicing his doubts about Qifrey’s intentions). He may be right to suspect that Qifrey is hiding things from him, but there’s a pretty big leap between “you are keeping secrets” and “you are wilfully using your own child as bait”.

This whole suspicious climate, that makes Olruggio jump straight to the ugliest conclusion possible, is once again a feature of the Great Hall mentality. The mind of a person who has been in contact with forbidden magic is forever corrupt, and his actions are forever suspect. Had Qifrey been anyone else, he would probably have been given the benefit of the doubt for losing track of his students while he was, you know, extremely concussed and suffering from blood loss. Interestingly, Olruggio’s concern – whether, when faced with a chance to go after the Brimhats, Qifrey would choose his quest over his students’ safety – is addressed as early as chapter 22: after an instinctive movement to rush into danger, Qifrey pulls himself back and takes measures to keep Coco and Tetia safe, and even plans to call Olruggio and the Knights Moralis as reinforcements to help rescue the others. Then he gets hit in the head by a giant snake golem, and the rest is history.

In general, Beldaruit’s and Olruggio’s accusations that Qifrey is using Coco as bait without caring for her wellbeing just don’t hold up. First, all the attacks by the Brimhats so far have occurred in completely mundane, teaching-related settings with other adults present (at the stationary shop, or during an exam), so pushing blame onto Qifrey clearly comes from prejudice rather than evidence. Second, if Qifrey’s sole aim was to get clues on the Brimhats, he would pressure Coco into taking the Librarian test as early as possible, but we keep seeing the opposite: he encourages her to take breaks and to enjoy her training rather than be laser-focused on her goals. Hilariously, out of the two tests Coco passed so far, Qifrey gave his approval for none, thinking it was too early for her (extra-hilariously, Beldaruit is the one who speed-ran Coco through her second test). I’m just saying, if Olruggio hasn’t noticed any of this and can’t take it in consideration before bringing out the accusations and threats, maybe he’s not doing that good a job as a Watchful Eye.  

Another thing about this climate of suspicion, added to the power imbalance between Qifrey and Olruggio, is that it prevents them from having a healthy fight. Olruggio invokes his duties as Watchful Eye to berate Qifrey whenever he steps out of line, but when Olruggio lets his temper carry him too far and misuses his own power (when he drags Coco out to the Knights Moralis even though she had already been officially accepted as an apprentice in volume 2, or when he accuses Qifrey of using Coco as bait in volume 7 without proof), Qifrey never criticises him for doing so. It’s not that he is shy about speaking up to power – he is more than happy to yell at Beldaruit and Easthies when they mistreat his students. But when it comes to Olruggio, Qifrey is compelled to shoulder as much blame as he can, and seems almost afraid of saying anything negative to him.

It would have been justified for Qifrey to start chapter 40 by getting mad at Olruggio for his earlier accusations: Olruggio had been insensitive, unhelpful and completely out of line. But instead Qifrey pretty much encourages Olruggio to attack him again: from his “I thought you might be mad at me” to frantically denying that Olruggio might have ever done anything wrong. In return, there is something defensive in Olruggio’s delivery during the “I’m angry that I wasn’t someone you could trust” segment: he walks away from Qifrey as he gives the non-apology, and it comes out sandwiched between criticisms of Qifrey for being reckless and a long speech of Olruggio praising himself, and how everything would be alright if only Qifrey behaved himself and relied on him more. It’s an issue that this old distribution of roles is so well-entrenched between them, with Olruggio as the golden student and Qifrey as the eternal problem child.

Qifrey’s exaggerated gentleness and praise towards Olruggio participates in the feeling of wrongness that weighs on chapter 40. The memory erasure scene is framed like a kiss, and Qifrey keeps complimenting him even after sending him into an unnatural sleep. It would come across as condescending and manipulative, except for how fervently Qifrey seems to want to believe that Olruggio is perfect, and that any dysfunction in their relationship has to come from him.

Qifrey, focused as he is on his own dark secrets, is utterly unwilling to see any darkness in Olruggio. It makes sense when you consider that Qifrey has also been absorbing the prejudices of the Great Hall: he thinks very little of himself, and has probably been looking up to Olruggio as a moral compass ever since Olruggio took him under his wing as a child. He must also comfort himself with the thought that, when/if his quest drags him away from the atelier, Olruggio will be a perfect teacher for the girls. Having to come to terms with Olruggio’s flaws must be terrifying to him. But what about Olruggio’s perspective in all this?

Olruggio is an example of how even those who materially benefit from an elitist, close-minded society are damaged by it in some way. He grew up in the Great Hall as a bright-eyed, idealistic genius, and even as an adult he clings to the principles of that society like a mantra: “bring the blessings of magic to the people”. He is successful and respected by his peers, popular with the nobles and well-liked among the commoners. Yet somewhere along the way he became a ragged, workaholic hermit.

I have mentioned in previous posts that I suspect Olruggio of grappling with his own, deep-seated fear of being unwanted and left behind. He betrays that fear in the way he is attacking Qifrey: his concerns about Qifrey’s treatment of Coco aren’t based on evidence, and underneath that veneer he is mostly complaining that Qifrey is neglecting him. “Be straight with me”, “Don’t lie to me”, “You wouldn’t even tell me about it”, “You took her as a student without a word to me first”. There again, Olruggio is being a bit hazy on how far his influence goes as Watchful Eye: from what we know, Watchful Eyes are meant to ensure that students don’t get mistreated, but they don’t get a say in who teaches whom: it’s the disciples who choose their masters. Olruggio grumbling about Qifrey adopting more and more children behind his back is cute when we treat them as a couple. But from the perspective of their professional relationship, Olruggio is claiming the right to veto Qifrey’s students and take them away from him without any evidence of abuse.

The problem is that Olruggio is very bad at expressing his feelings without using his job, and therefore his authority, as a crutch. It’s endearing when he uses it to explain away his gifts to the girls (“I just want them to test a prototype”) or his marks of affection and care (“Drying your hair so you don’t catch a cold is part of my duties as Watchful Eye!”). However, it adds a layer of threat to his arguments with Qifrey, because he is constantly dangling that authority over his head, even when he is urging Qifrey to trust him. In his more agitated moments, it turns into a one-man good-cop / bad-cop performance (“Step out of line and I’ll report you” / “Why won’t you confide in me? I’m your best friend!”). Sure, he is willing to side with Qifrey against the Knights Moralis when he deems it appropriate, but here’s the catch: Olruggio gets to decide where the line in the sand lies, and that line seems to shift depending on how hot his temper is flaring at any given time.

It’s no wonder their conversation lends them in a dead-end when it is so one-sided. Thourghout the manga, and in volume 8 in particular, the author explores the idea that help should be a collaborative effort between equals, that encourages both parties to grow and learn more about themselves. Trying to unilaterally “save” someone is almost guaranteed to miss the mark and come across as condescending; it might even cause further harm.

Help as a collaboration between equals

Therefore, Qifrey and Olruggio can’t really come to any connection unless they make it clear that they are helping each other, not just endlessly acting out their roles as the golden student who knows all the right answers, and the problem child who must be saved from himself.

Aside from the framing, help as an equivalent exchange is the other key difference between chapter 40 and Qifrey and Coco’s dialogue earlier in the volume. In order to counter Coco’s doubts and growing self-hatred, Qifrey reinforces everything he admires about Coco: from her social skills and capacity for teamwork to her practical skills and her straight lines. He reminds her of all the things that she achieved so far. He also strongly hints that her fight is his fight, too, and that they should hold onto hope for each other’s sake. Finally, he makes a (pretty dramatic, unnecessarily literal and definitely unsafe, but still awesome) leap of faith by letting her decide what direction she wants to take next. His support isn’t conditional on Coco making the “right” choice, but freely offered. In return, Coco makes a display of saving Qifrey as well, saying she wants him right by her side while she figures out her path. The rescue itself is symbolic (it would actually have been safer for Qifrey to go back on his own), but Qifrey’s gratitude is genuine, because Coco made him feel valued, irreplaceable, just as Beldaruit and Olruggio were making him doubt his place as a teacher.

By contrast, Olruggio’s speech of friendship contains a grand total of ONE compliment, served in such a back-handed way that it sounds almost like a warning: “To Coco, you are a good teacher, so don’t betray that trust”. This is weighted against a slurry of criticisms about Qifrey’s recklessness, and heaps of self-praise. Olruggio is making a case for why Qifrey needs help and why Olruggio is best-qualified to deliver that help, like he is making a sales pitch to a client. It’s probably not a coincidence that Olruggio is remembering his successful bout of diplomacy in chapter 39 as he gears himself for his conversation with Qifrey. Olruggio, look, I get that you have more faith in your professional persona than in your regular self, but you can’t talk to your best friend like you are doing customer service, it just doesn’t work that way.

The help that Olruggio offers leaves no room for Qifrey’s input: once Qifrey has confided everything and laid himself bare, Olruggio will pick apart “where he needs the help” and “when he is about to do something stupid”, and either support or stop him as he judges appropriate. It reinforces Qifrey’s inferiority complex and interiorised guilt, by implying that his moral compass can’t be trusted. It also places the blame for Qifrey’s rash actions solely on his lack of judgement, rather than on having to grapple with complex, life-threatening situations and being caught in a pincer between a terrorist group and an oppressive system. There’s no mention that the definition of what’s “lawful” and “responsible” and “just” has gotten a bit messed up lately, and that Olruggio himself has had to compromise with his duties to cover for the kids. Olruggio fakes confidence in his capacity to fix everything, and pretends that things can go back to the way they were, but it would have been more honest of him to ask Qifrey to work with him so they can form a united front to face their new, complex reality.

Instead, by claiming that he is helping Qifrey out of a sense of duty, as Watchful Eye and as a friend, Olruggio reinforces the feeling that Qifrey is a burden to him. This gives Qifrey more incentive to keep his friend away from his investigations, and to see himself as expendable. In that light, since their friendship brings Olruggio so much trouble and so few benefits, betraying him and stealing the memories that relate to Qifrey’s secrets start to look like the lesser evil.

The only way that the conversation in chapter 40 could have gone well is if they both freely admitted to needing each other. However, it is too early in Olruggio’s character arc to be honest about his own feelings and worries. And it is too early in Qifrey’s character arc to see past his own self-loathing and recognize that his “perfect” friend also needs support and guidance. Yet, when they do, it is hinted that Olruggio can draw inspiration from Qifrey, and help Qifrey in a more meaningful way by highlighting how Qifrey matters to him, letting them reach this stage of true collaboration.

What Olruggio wants from Qifrey

I think Olruggio is repressing a sense of disillusionment about his work, the fairness of the system, and his usefulness as a witch. We see glimpses of his anxiety in chapter 39 notably. While he says that his true role is to help the commoners, circumstances keep reminding him that like it or not, his main function is decorative. He gets dragged in on short notice to be yanked around by petty nobles and arrange light shows at weddings; he has to act in secret to help the destitute, and even then can only do so much before the rules of magic society get in his way. So far he manages to keep his head above water, using his talent for diplomacy and showmanship to keep the nobles appeased, and finding small, creative ways to help commoners without breaking any law. But it leaves him with the feeling of being trapped in an increasingly constraining role, and is slowly pushing him towards a burn out.

He seems to feel a kinship with princess Mia, who like him is used as a tool in petty squabbles between nobles. He even metaphorically puts himself in her shoes: after likening her situation to being trapped in the spotlight in a dance she doesn’t want, he applies the same metaphor to himself and his inability to act outside the narrow constraints of witch rules, of being constantly watched and judged. And then, adorably enough, Olruggio actually brings Qifrey into the metaphor. He muses that Qifrey, who has gone against established rules before, might be the key to escaping that dance.

For all that the “problem child” / “star student” dichotomy has been weighing on Olruggio and Qifrey and warping their friendship, there is a flip side to it as well. As a prodigy who always pressures himself to perform perfectly (to the point where he will work himself to a zombie-like state and then hide behind a mask to look perfect and pristine in front of his clients at parties, Olruggio no), Qifrey provides a chance at escapism. For all that he berates him for causing trouble, Olruggio seems to fondly remember their old adventures. It’s possible that he valued the opportunity to do rebellious, forbidden things without having to jeopardise his reputation. His fear of being left behind by Qifrey is then also a fear of losing his hope that, when the pressure of being the perfect witch becomes too much to bear, Qifrey will be there to break him free.

In summary, Olruggio wants Qifrey to be his rebellious prince who breaks him free from the ballroom, and we respect him for it. Qifrey had his reasons for not being able to confide in him, and they both have a lot of character development to do before they can reach a stage of actual collaboration and trust. But I don’t dispute that taking his memories was a dick move. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.  

[dracoxgeorge]

Idiot- Draco Malfoy

(not my gif)

Warnings: Just fluff lmk if I missed smtg!!

Draco x fem reader

Word Count:1.1k

Summary: You and Draco say I love you for the first time 

A/n: not proof read so sorry if this sucks, requests are open! Have a good day/night!!

You and the one and only Draco Malfoy began dating a little over a month ago, he had kindly asked you to go to Hogsmead with him after school and like many of the other girls at Hogwarts, you fancied him, but the again how could you not.

So you said yes, and the night ended with a kiss once he had returned you to your house common room. You guys went on three more dates and decided to make it official. 

It was a regular Thursday afternoon and you just happened to be stuck in detention for tripping and landing on Snape's cape, taking him down with you. 

“Miss Yln, I have a meeting to go to, Mr. Malfoy here will be supervising you until you finish your assignment. I trust that you two will behave as though I’m still here.” 

You and Draco nodded at his demands, reading over your apology letter that had been your assignment until he had left the room. 

Professor Snape,

I truly want to apologize for stumbling onto your cape. I had no intentions of toppling over, I simply tripped on someone's foot. In no means would I have ever wanted to take you down with me. 

Though you may not believe me, the fall was not at all my fault, some Ravenclaw in the halls had tripped me and ran once he found that you and I had fallen. 

I know now to work on my balance but personally, I think that you should shorten your cape, as it is a huge safety hazard to anyone walking down the crowded corridors of Hogwarts while you are too. 

I’m actually overjoyed at the fact that you too fell, because now we both know what there is for us to work on, although I am still very sorry that you did.

Have a wonderful evening,  Yn Yln

“Would you like me to take a look at that for you Miss Yln?” Draco’s voice made you jump slightly while handing over your parchment. 

“Go for it.” You answered, fumbling with your rings while he read it. 

Draco’s eyes caught your attention, they were so entrancing. The mix of silver and blue never failed to pull you into a daze. You found that his icy blue orbs were now glancing back up at you.

“Miss, I would appreciate it if you didn’t stare at me while I’m trying to read.” He said looking back down at your paper. You watched his eyebrows scrunch in confusion and a smug smile creep onto his lips,

“You’re overjoyed that you fell on top of him? Never thought I’d be hearing that.” 

Draco watched a light pink cover your soft cheeks in awe. 

“I mean yeah, we would’ve never had the opportunity to learn from this if it weren't to happen.” 

You watched a sigh escape his plump lips while he placed your paper onto Snape’s desk. 

“So, whatcha wanna do?” You asked, in a playful manner, while hoisting yourself onto the desk you were seated at. You adjusted yourself so you were sitting at the end of the desk while your legs hung off. 

Draco made his way back to you, standing in between your legs. Your hands made their way up from his collar bones, into the silk that was his hair, pushing it back and watching it fall right back onto his forehead. 

“Well I have an idea, but I don’t think you’ll like it so much.” He answered with a suggestive smirk, while raising his eyebrows. 

You pulled him into an enchanting kiss, before abruptly pulling away. 

“Yeah, probably not.” You laughed, standing up on the desk.

“How about something fun?” You suggested, looking down at his flushed face. 

“Are you implying that my ideas aren’t fun Miss Yln?” He sobbed, holding his hand to his heart, pouting.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, do something about it.” You challenged, bracing yourself before jumping onto the desk in front of you. 

“Careful my girl, don't want you to mess up that pretty face of yours,” Draco joked.

He watched closely as you jumped from desk to desk, getting more careless every time you landed safely. 

As you were about to jump to the desk Draco was standing behind (on the end closest to you) your right foot slipped too early and you began to fall. You scrunched your eyes closed in hopes it would brace you for the fall. 

Just as you would’ve hit the ground, you felt yourself being encased in your boyfriend's embrace. He set you gently on the floor and you immediately wrapped him in your arms.

“Darling, I was only joking, please be more careful.” He whispered, hugging you back gently, letting out a breathy laugh.

“That was… Exhilarating, I could’ve sworn I saw my life flash before my eyes.” You claimed, laughing into his chest, inhaling his expensive cologne. 

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re gonna do it again.”

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

It was Saturday night, you and Draco had just spent the day relaxing with a bubble bath, massaging each other and having many meaningful conversations throughout the day.

You two had ended the day cuddling while watching 2 movies in dim candle light. 

You felt Draco shift from your spot on his chest, and looked up to see him yawning.

“You tired, Dray?” You watched him shake his head no, which was obviously a lie. You in turn, shook your head in adoration.

“Well I think we should get going to bed, it's getting pretty late. I’m just gonna head to the bathroom first, alright?” 

“Of course my girl.” He answered. 

You headed to the bathroom and did your business. While washing your hands, you reminded yourself to go blow out the candles.

You opened the bathroom door to see Draco laying in bed playing with the hem of his hoodie waiting for you. You smiled to yourself, wondering how you got so lucky.

You walked up to the bed, getting under the covers, snuggling into Draco’s side.

Once you got comfortable, you saw that you didn’t blow out the candles, which you had previously reminded yourself to do. 

“What's wrong, lovely?” He asked, looking down at you.

“I literally just reminded myself to blow out the candles like two seconds ago-” You paused, getting up to actually blow out the candles that time. You blew out the candles and got back in bed.

“You know Draco, you're dating an Idiot.”

A clumsy one at that.

“No, I’m in love with an idiot” He murmured. It felt like your heart was trying to leap out of your chest, yet if felt like you’d just let out a breath that you’d been holding in for the entirety of your relationship.

“You love me?” He chuckled, 

“Took you long enough to realize,” He answered, kissing the top of your forehead. You felt your heart flutter and began straddling him.

You placed kisses upon kisses all over his face,

 “I love you too, Draco”

---------

A/N-

Quick thank you to kool-aid for giving me the energy to finish writing this. 

Thank you guys for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

[sweetea-rosey]

Ooo hi I saw you take requests? I have a writing request if you want to :))

So here is my idea:

Remus has a notebook given to him by the other sides to write his thoughts down in. See, Remus has clear impulse control problems so this notebook of for him to write his thoughts down instead of just doing and saying whatever comes to mind. It gives him a chance to think about it. Sometimes, maybe like once a week give or take a few days one of the other sides will sit down with him and read his thoughts with him just to make him feel validated and heard. Well this particular time one of the sides (of your choice) sat down with the notebook and found some rather interesting things.

Now, you can take this one of two ways (it’s really all up to you!)- You can make this something angsty (hurt comfort), or you can make it something shippy! It can be any Remus ship you want but I personally am more partial to intrulogical hehe 💙💚

Take your time and have fun with it!! Have a good day :)

Ah! Ty for the request! I started writing it on the day you submitted it, but Tumblr deleted it after a while of not saving :') so now my motivation to do this is deterred

Anyway, this'll be my first time not writing something Roman centric =w=""

Remus held the book in his hands. He remembered the day Roman gave it to him, when he risked traveling into the dark scape because he knew his brother needed this. Because he did, too.

An outlet.

A place for his monstrosities to be, other than inside his head, allowed to torture him to their best abilities. The illusions his mind creates are no longer just in his eyes. It's no longer insanity- it's creativity. The journal isn't the first one. But he and Roman make sure to keep eachother stocked up; they get filled rather quickly. The Imagination holds an entire library dedicated to their filled journals from over the years.

The journals have also become sort of diaries to them. So, imagine what were to happen if one of them got lost? The possibility of their secrets being seen by unbidden eyes.

Remus burst into Roman's room, "Ro!"

Roman jumped from his spot at his desk, "Jeez- ! What is it?"

Oddly, for Remus, he seemed almost anxious, "Have you seen my latest journal?"

Ah, that explains it. Roman understands the severity of losing something that holds your private thoughts. He stood up from his desk chair, turning to face Remus better, "No, I haven't. Is it missing?"

Remus nodded, unable to speak through the panic coursing through his veins, the hormone mixing with the feeling of the plasma we call blood rushing through veins and arteries, rest in his heart, which is thumping with vigor, the- Remus shook himself. The imagery coming on its own with nothing to do with it, "Thoughts, thoughts thoughts, thoughts, blood, where? Everywhere? It is me, I am thoughts and blood and gore and death and slime, and..."

Roman pulled his brother in, the physical touch of his second half grounding him, finally balanced out with his brother there to help him.

"Breathe, Ree...I get it...I'll help you look for it, okay? Do you have any spare journals?"

Remus shook his head. He had just started this one, he was too busy brainstorming on the pages to remember to restock.

"Okay, do you have the focus to conjur any, right now?"

Remus shook his head again. No no, of course not! He's too focused on the one that's missing!

"Alright, that's okay, Ree. I get it. Here, use this for now," As Roman spoke, he pressed a plain black book in the unstable man's hands, "Get some thoughts out on that, then we can start looking, okay?"

Instead of answering, he made the rest of the way into the prince's room and started letting the thoughts out.

.

.

.

"Feel better?"

Remus let out a breath and nodded, "A lot, thanks. Can we go look, now?"

"Of course, let's go."

It took hours. The sun was gone in Thomas' living room and they were still tearing the place apart, searching absolutely everywhere. Remus was tempted to just dismantle the mind palace and look through the stuff that gets left behind. The fear was boiling in his gut in the ocean of acid.

"What if we don't find it? My blood, sweat, and tears went into that book! Pieces of my heart are in there, I can't lose it, what if someone else finds it and reads it?"

Roman shuddered, because he didn't believe that Remus was being metaphorical, "I understand the severity of the situation, Ree. We should go look in the Lightside, now..."

Remus shrugged as much as his slumped posture will allow, "Sure..."

"We'll find it, Ree..."

"That's not what I'm worried about. If I lose it? Fine, I have others, I can start a new one. I'm scared of someone else finding it and reading it... there's things in there I don't want others seeing..."

"I get it, you know I do. We'll get it back before anyone else can even know it exists, alright?"

Remus just shrugged off his comforting hand, "Stupid prince, always making promises you don't even know if you can keep. Don't do that to yourself and don't do it to me. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that shit."

Roman recoiled, almost physically, "Sometime, people just need reassurance."

"And then, when you're wrong? I know you don't like breaking promises, Princey."

"...Then hopefully we'll figure it out."

"You're such a fucking optimist, it's gross."

Roman rolled his eyes, "I'm helping you look, be nice, you doofus."

"Oh wow, "doofus", I'm so offended," Remus said without much effort.

Roman ignored him.

.

.

.

"It's not HERE!" Remus screamed, a pot crashing through the wall.

Roman manged to muffle the noise and quickly put it back together, "We will, this was only the first room in the Lightside. You need to calm down."

"I can't! What if someone else already found it and read it? What if they hate me? What if they never wanna talk to me again because nothing in there makes sense, what-"

Roman caught his hands, "Woah! Woah...Remus, when did you start caring so much about what the others think of you?"

"I don't!"

"But...-"

"I don't care about what Logan and the other think of me."

"Of what...Logan and the...? Remus...is this about Logan?"

Remus hesitated just long enough.

"Oh great Aphrodite, it is..."

"Aphro-? NO! No, I don't!"

"Remus, is there something about Logan on that book?"

Remus said fuck it in his mind and sighed, "Yes... I...some fantasies...that he might not approve of..."

"Oh, Remus..."

"What if he finds out, and he...? He just doesn't...?"

Roman hit his brother on the head, "This is why you're a doofus. It doesn't matter if he finds it, you have nothing to worry about."

Remus rolled his eyes. Literally. He rolled them like dice and Roman had to look away, but got the message.

"How would you know?"

It was Roman's turn to roll his eyes (PROPERLY).

"I'm leaving you to figure that out. But, I do."

"Sure. Whatever. Asshole."

Roman moved on to look in the next room.

.

.

.

A flash of green leaped onto him and he was tumbling over, the item in his hands flying out.

"Remus!"

The man scrambled over and snatched the book up, "Did you read it?"

"I- no, Remus what is it?"

"It's mine. Roman, I found it!"

Roman? Since when do those two talk? But, as Remus said, Roman walked in.

"Oh, thank Hades."

"Logan had it."

Roman sucked in a breath, "Did he read it?"

Remus shook his head, relief is a weird expression on the man's face.

Logan wouldn't mind seeing it more.

"What is this about?"

Roman took the liberty of answering, "The book is Remus' and it's private. Reading it would be invasive."

"Oh, my apologies, then. But, I had just picked it up, it was left over from Remus' running through the room and into the Imagination, along with some other debris I cleaned up."

"It's alright, nerd."

Logan's gaze lingered on Remus a bit, before he bid his farewells, reminded Roman of some work he needs to do by Friday, then left.

"Y'know," Roman said as they turned to walk back, "You could tell him how you feel."

Remus scoffed, "I'm not self destructive, like you, RoRo."

Ignoring Remus' jabs is difficult for the prince, nevertheless, "And do, pray tell, how it's self destructive?"

"Because he'll say no and that will hurt. I don't like when things actually hurt. I'm not risking him hating me even more."

"Woah, woah, he doesn't hate you."

"Doesn't he? I'm chaotic, irrational, vile, ik everything he fights to keep under control."

Roman digested this and thought hard on how best to explain this, "But that's exactly why you two are perfect for each other. You help him let loose when he's being a stick in the mud and he helps you keep in control of yourself and stay organized.

"You're delusional. He doesn't like me, he can't Ro. It goes against our very beings! Go ahead and fool yourself, but you can't do that to me. That's just cruel." Remus disappeared and Roman sighed as he tried to brush off his brother's words.

As the embodiment of romance, he thinks he'd know when a couple will work out or not. How will he convince his brother and Logan of that? He supposes he can't blame them for that, who would listen to the love advice of someone who loves someone that loves someone else? Kinda hypocritical.

.

.

.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Remus! Would calm down? Just listen to me!"

"No! You're a liar and I hate you! Do you want me to get hurt? You're an asshole you good for nothing prince!" He screamed. Why won't his brother let this go? Doesn't he see that everyone is better this way?

"Fine! You're right! Is that what you want to hear? Call me an asshole, call me stupid, call me evil or whatever! But I'm not wrong! Why don't you believe me? Ha! Why am I trying to reason with the self proclaimed unreasonable?"

Remus looked down from his perch on the guillotine, "Wait, RoRo-!" But he was gone.

"Fuck."

He rushed out, hoping to Loki that he didn't do too much damage.

"Roman!"

But he found who he wants looking for.

"Why are you screaming in the middle of the common room?" Came that cool and sexy voice.

"Looking for my brother, duh."

"Funny, I just spoke to him."

"Where'd he go?"

"Not sure, but he told me to stop being a robotic fake and confess to you."

"He- ? ROMAN!" Remus summoned a hammer and maybe there's a new hole in the wall.

"He was right, surprisingly."

Remus was not expecting that, "Come again?"

"I have noticed, over the course of our interactions, that I have developed feelings that I didn't recognized until Roman brought them to my attention. Remus...I have romantic feelings for you."

And it was the last casual and calculated confession Remus ever heard. He imagined something with ropes. But it was the best thing he ever heard. He didn't expect to be crying.

"Remus?"

"I like you, too..."

Logan brightened and stood up, his heart beating unnaturally, yet pleasently, as he moved closer, "Then... perhaps we...?"

But before he could finish, Remus pulled him in and there was no need for words.

Part 2 with what happened with Roman afterwards?

Ty so much for the request and I apologies for the long wait.

@fireflyjunkie

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s 2021 Birthday R&S

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an R&S which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Knowledge of Shaw’s 2020 Birthday R&S is highly recommended before reading this!

[ This R&S was released on 16 June 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

This is the fifth month that Shaw is learning how to skateboard. The little buddies who started out with him had given up one after the other because they couldn’t endure the bitter taste of tripping and falling. In the end, he’s the only one left.

The wheels grate against the ground in a regular rhythm. Leaping over the obstacle, it makes a swerve, accelerates, and flips... the skateboard is lithe and graceful beneath Shaw’s feet, akin to a reed leaf as it brings him into the largest skatepark in Loveland City with a wilful rush.

“Shaw! Shaw!”

Shaw halts the skateboard and turns around.

A little fatty with a band-aid on his knee walks over, smiling and revealing his missing front teeth. “Finally found you.”

Shaw laughs scornfully. “Why’s a defeated opponent looking for me? Do you want to lose the remaining half of your front teeth?”

“You!” Little Fatty flushes red in an instant. He straightens his neck and points to an area behind him. “I’m not competing with you. Someone else wants to!”

Shaw looks in the direction of his finger. A boy who is obviously taller than him by a head smiles at him, the skateboard beneath his feet sliding back and forth. At a glance, it’s clear that he’s experienced.

“My Bro Zhou is in the Loveland City Qing Xun Team,” Little Fatty hugs his arms with pride, as though he’s the one in the team. “So? Dare to accept it?”

So that’s how it is. He’s a scaredy cat who only dares to call in reinforcements.

Shaw purses his lips. He steps on the tail of the skateboard, and it responds by flipping upwards, the the edge of the board landing steadily in his palm. “Why not? What are we competing in?”

Bro Zhou shrugs. “I won’t make things hard for newbies. We’ll compete in tic-tacs and going over obstacles. How’s that?”

“Sure.”

[Trivia] Tic-tacs are a series of consecutive heelside-to-toeside kickturns where your feet remain on the skateboard. I copied this from Google and have no idea what it means LOL

-

THUD-

Losing his balance for just a moment, Shaw falls heavily onto the ground. His knees, elbows... waves of pain bloom on every joint. It isn’t a good feeling, but what makes Shaw even more frustrated is the arrogant laughter of Little Fatty. t’s even noisier than the cicadas from afar.

“HAHAHAHA Shaw lost! Let’s see if you still have the guts to be proud!”

He has a lot to say despite being a noob. Shaw rolls his eyes. Enduring the pain, he’s just about to lift himself up by the elbows when Bro Zhou walks over to him, offering him a hand. “Not bad.”

“Thanks.”

The other party continues. “But at your age, it’s best to stick to the basics. There’s no hurry to learn high difficulty moves like the dolphin flip. You’ll definitely fall.”

Shaw’s expression immediately turns cold. “I don’t need your pointers on what I can learn at whatever age.” He doesn’t touch the hand, standing up by himself. Lifting his head, he gives the other party a look over. “Do you come here often?”

“The Qing Xun Team practises here every day.”

“Okay. Next time, I’ll definitely win against you.”

Shaw doesn’t bother about the expressions on Bro Zhou’s and the Little Fatty’s faces after hearing his words. He casually pats off the dust on his body, picks up the skateboard which is flipped over on the floor, and leaves the skatepark.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

The moment Shaw enters through the doors of the antique store, the Old Man’s uproar begins. “Little Ancestor, did you wreck havoc in the Heavenly Palace again?”

[Note] Here, the Old Man calls Shaw “小祖宗”, which literally means “Little Ancestor”. This term is used in an affectionate way to address a naughty child

“Wrecking havoc in the Heavenly Palace” is a reference to a novel called Journey to the West (西游记), which features a troublemaking Monkey King Sun Wukong

“I’m hungry. What’s there to eat today?” Shaw doesn’t respond to the shopkeeper’s words. Placing his bag and skateboard behind the counter, he reaches out to play with the silly parrot at the entrance - it’s truly silly. Even after teaching it for a month, it can’t even say “welcome to the shop”. It causes Shaw to wonder if the Old Man was perhaps duped of his money once again.

“All you know how to do is eat...” The Old Man sets down the ancient text in his hands and props up his presbyopic glasses. “Old Qian from next door boiled chicken soup today and is giving us half. I’ll stir-fry two dishes. You can ask if the chicken soup is ready.”

Shaw makes an “mm” of acknowledgement, then turns around and heads next door.

The shopkeeper gets up and takes a few steps towards the kitchen. Then, he abruptly returns to the counter, reaching out to touch the coarse scratch marks at the edge of the skateboard. Inexplicably, he sighs.

The chicken soup is a little bland, and the stir-fried dishes are a little salty. Mixing and eating them together is just nice. Shaw lowers his head and pushes rice into his mouth with chopsticks. In his left ear, he hears the news of how the GDP of Loveland City has risen. In his right ear, he hears the nagging of his mentor:

“...I’m not discouraging you from playing with this thing. It’s good to toughen yourself up while you’re young and your bones and muscles are sturdy. But don’t be too rash. This... this thing of yours...”

“Skateboard.” Shaw speaks.

“Yes, skateboard. I remember that it’s only been a month since it was bought, and it’s already tormented to such a state. You have such an impulsive temperament. You should be more level-headed.”

What does this have to do with temperament? If I were to truly be impulsive, I wouldn’t need a month. Just three days would be enough to break a skateboard. Shaw looks at the chicken leg in his bowl, not saying these words aloud.

“Also, remember to report to the shop early tomorrow. Old Qian and I are preparing to head to the neighbouring city to look for goods. You should come along to broaden your horizons.” The shopkeeper taps his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl, signalling for Shaw to pay more attention. “Isn’t it your birthday tomorrow? I could pick out a gift for you! Sigh, I actually had my eye on an agate snuff bottle, but the guy suddenly decided not to sell it...”

“I’m not going tomorrow.” Shaw interrupts the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper furrows his brows. “Why are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I’m not. I have proper business to attend to tomorrow. The school organised a visit to the museum.” Shaw lifts his eyes, and his thin lips curve upwards. “The things I see there will be much more valuable than those trivial things you fiddle with.”

“You little rascal!”

Shaw laughs, wedging the chicken leg between his chopsticks and sending it into his mentor’s bowl. “I’m full, so I’m heading to the back to do my homework. Chicken legs are really nutritious, so you should have it.”

“Tsk tsk, and you still said you weren’t throwing a tantrum. You aren’t going home again?”

“I don’t want to go back today. I’ll definitely go back tomorrow.” Shaw has already walked to the entrance. He suddenly thinks of something, and turns his head to ask a question. “Mentor, your shop will always be open, right?”

These words came out of nowhere, and the shopkeeper isn’t able to comprehend them. “What?”

“Nothing much. I’m just worried that I won’t have a place to have dinner if an old man like you were to throw in the towel someday.”

The shopkeeper fumes with a glare. “What do you mean by that? You only care about the food? Also, my shop can continue running for a decade or two. I’m still waiting for you to bring back a disciple or a wife to serve me tea!”

Shaw lets out an “oh”, and his eyes crinkle. “In that case, you’ll have to wait for another twenty or thirty years.”

The eyesight of the shopkeeper is no longer as good as before, but he can clearly see that the smile of this child didn’t reach his eyes. After Shaw leaves, he suddenly recalls the fortune that he drew for Shaw half a year ago: “What awaits this catastrophe is a new beginning...”

This child is will meet his predestined fate this year, so what’s left is to see how he endures through it. The shopkeeper shakes his head, sighing once again.

[Note] The actual fortune is “河图数九，洛书数七，脐于九陵，七日来复” but I don’t have the energy to explain it so what I’ve translated above is the overall meaning :>

-

[ Chapter Three ]

When Shaw awakens on the next day, the shopkeeper has already left to inspect the goods. The shop is empty, and he’s the only one left.

Westmoon Street is lined with old houses, and there’s no soundproofing. Lying on the bed, Shaw can hear the chirping of birds outside the window, the yelling of people on the street, and the babble of the Chinese opera from the old bookstore next door: “I’m just like a caged bird with wings that can’t be outstretched. I’m just like a shallow water dragon trapped on a beach...”

Shaw rubs his face, then sits up on the bed.

The school had set the assembling time to be 9am. Heading out now will give him more than enough time. Shaw quickly washes his face and rinses his mouth. Just as he walks towards the front counter with some rice grains from the kitchen for the parrot to eat, he suddenly discovers that there’s something on the counter.

Walking over, Shaw sees that there’s a cake box as well as a t-shirt which has been washed clean.

There’s a slip of paper on the shirt. The strokes are clean and thin. At a glance, he knows that this is the Old Man’s handwriting: You need energy and drive to participate in the school activity. Don’t wear yesterday’s dirty clothes. Change into this.

The shirt look slightly familiar. He probably changed out of it one day and forgot about it, leaving it in the antique shop. Shaw pays it no mind, turning his head to that small cake once again. The various calligraphy and writings in the antique store are considered relatively charming. Yet, why does he always buy such unsophisticated cakes?

When his classmates celebrate their birthdays, what they eat are high quality custom-made cakes - red velvet, matcha crepe, chocolate molten lava... such a traditional longevity cake is probably found only in a place like Westmoon Street. It’s clear from the light red and light green colours that the embellishments on the cake were made by hand. Eating it would definitely dye his tongue. If he were to speak later, wouldn’t he get laughed at by his classmates?

Shaw bunches up his brows, but the fork in his hand doesn’t stop. The cream is plant-based and tastes bad. He eats a small egg shell at the base of the cake and it tastes bad. The “Happy Birthday” was written using peach jam, and it tastes really bad.

The silly parrot at the side tilts its head, watching as the boy eats mouthfuls while shunning it with every bite, finishing the cake entirely.

Shaw wipes his mouth, then rinses it with the barley tea on the table. Picking up that t-shirt, he returns into the house and changes his clothes. 

-

[ Chapter Four ]

“...this ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ depicts four famous scholars enjoying themselves. Students, do you know who the Seven Sages of the bamboo forest are?”

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “高逸图” (“gao yi tu”)

“It’s such a waste that you didn’t watch yesterday’s episode. That scene where the main lead destroyed the opponent like a boss is unparalleled!”

“Aside from the both of us, did anyone else have fun at Anime City?”

“Are you done with the math homework? Lend it to me - I’ll find a place to copy it.”

...

The question posed by the museum guide is drowned out amidst the laughing and frolicking of the kids. He forces a smile while shaking his head. All of a sudden, he notices that a boy with bluish purple hair isn’t the same as the other kids. He’s staring at an ancient painting in the showcase, lost in thought.

As though seeing a saviour, the guide quickly points at him. “Student, why don’t you give me an answer? It’s fine even if you get it wrong. Uncle will explain to you!”

“...” Shaw turns his head, opening his mouth to say some words, but his voice doesn’t reach the guide’s ears.

“Student, what did you say?” The guide raises his volume.

“I said that the four people in ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ are Shan Tao, Wang Jie, Liu Ling and Ruan Ji.” Shaw’s face is pretty much expressionless, and there aren't many fluctuations in his tone. “The one sitting down with his hands on his knees at the far right is Shan Tao. The one holding the ruyi sceptre is Wang Tao. The one next to him and drinking wine is Liu Ling. A boy is serving him. The one at the far left needs no mention - he’s the first of the Sages, Ruan Ji. So this painting is missing Ji Tang, Xiang Xiu and Ruan Xian.”

“...”

The surroundings gradually quieten down, and only Shaw’s voice echoes in front of the showcase.

"The scholars in this painting evoke a refined and tasteful sentiment, and the lines are beautiful. This is an extremely precious treasure in the realm of silk scrolls. This is why the ‘Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent’ has always been kept in the royal palace. It’s a pity that in order for our predecessors to avoid taboos, only Si Ma Zhong’s inscription is left on it.”

The youth lifts his chin, shooting a playful smile at the guide. “Okay Uncle, you can explain the next museum piece now.”

“Shaw, you’re incredible!” His classmates flock over to him, bumping him on the shoulders. “You were staring at that painting for such a long time. Did you memorise the words on the museum label?”

“Tch. These’s no need to memorise the museum labels for such things. You’ll know it from a glance.” Shaw laughs. “Also, I wasn’t looking at this painting...” When he says this, he pauses for a moment, swallowing his words.

If he wasn’t looking at this painting, which one was he looking at? The students follow Shaw’s gaze, and realise that there’s a floral painting hanging next to the “Painting of the Elevated and Pre-eminent”.

“Painting of a Courtyard and Dayliles”, Northern Song Dynasty, Xuan He Imperial Art Academy, anonymous... The students read the explanatory note on the museum label.

[Trivia] If you’re interested in seeing the actual painting, search for “霜庭萱草图” (“shuang ting xuan cao tu”)

The painting seems to depict a corner of a courtyard. A few daylilies display the patterns on their leaves. One big and one small dragonfly are perched on the flower. Aside from that, there isn’t anything else interesting about it. This painting doesn’t seem to have a name or seal, neither does it have a detailed explanation. Even the guide skipped past it. Since it isn’t a rare and precious ancient painting, what exactly was Shaw looking at?

His classmates are a little puzzled.

-

[ Chapter Five ]

All the classes assemble in lines at the entrance of the museum. The teacher very patiently reminds the students not to forget to do their homework over the weekend, and to remember to write down their reflections about the museum. The students drawl out “got it”, but their hearts have long since flown a million miles away, ready to keep toys and snacks company.

“Shaw!” After dispersing, Shaw’s classmates wave at him.

Shaw walks over. “What’s up?”

“All of us know that you aren’t in a good mood because you lost to a senior in skateboarding yesterday. Isn’t it your birthday? Bro Lu bought the newest game, so let’s head over to play at his place.” His classmate smiles while putting an arm around his shoulder.

“Who told you that I lost yesterday?” Shaw speaks coldly.

“Who else but Fatty? He was so proud yesterday.” The classmate gives Shaw a pat. “Relax, we’re on your side. Don’t think about these unhappy things. Next time, we’ll have lots of opportunities to get revenge...”

“If I wanted revenge, I wouldn’t wait till next time.” Shaw purses his lips. “I’m heading to the skatepark now. You guys coming?”

-

Since it’s the weekend, quite a number of skateboard hobbyists are already practising by the time Shaw reaches the skatepark. Very quickly, he locates Bro Zhou from yesterday.

Shaw gets straight to the point. “I lost yesterday. Today, I want to have a race with you. Do you accept?”

A hint of shock is in Bro Zhou’s eyes. He has probably never met a kid who is this unwilling to lose. “You fell so badly yesterday but still want to compete with me? You should practise more!”

“There’s no need to practise more when competing with you,” Shaw says.

With this, Bro Zhou’s temper starts to flare. He tilts his chin. “Fine, come on. Just don’t cry if you fall and break your arm today.”

A short while later, the news of how a “junior high school newbie dared to challenge Bro Zhou from the Qing Xun Team” spreads throughout the skatepark. Everyone gathers at both sides of the race course, curiously sizing up the main lead for today.

“S-Shaw...” His classmate pulls on Shaw’s arm. Looking at the deep bowl in front, he gulps. “Are you sure you’re competing with him in this? It won’t be good news if you fall!”

“If I want to play, of course I’ll only play the fun stuff. Just watch.”

Shaw walks to the starting line and takes a deep breath. When moving his limbs, his hand subconsciously touches the hem of the t-shirt - there’s a small Chinese trumpet vine. The green leaves and red petals cover the hole which was originally on the shirt. It’s just that the stitches are crooked, and it’s incredibly crude. At a glance, it’s clear that it wasn’t sewn by someone familiar with needlework. 

[Fun fact] Chinese trumpet vine is 凌霄花 (“ling xiao hua”)

Shaw’s name in CN is 凌肖 (“ling xiao”)

Mentor is the best <3

He bites his lower lip.

The referee raises both hands. “The old rules apply. After getting past the Cola can obstacles, cross the bowl. The first person who reaches the goal will win. Ready... go!”

In the midst of a clamour, a bluish purple light rushes forward, taking the lead.

-

[ Chapter Six ]

The friction of wheels against the ground results in ear-piercing screeches. The skateboard brings Shaw forward at a high speed, and the cold strong wind accompanies the summer heat waves, brushing past his cheeks. The upright Cola cans aren’t enough to faze him. With the continuous twisting of his waist and a skateboard which moves naturally like flowing water, he and his opponent seem to bypass the obstacles comprising of twelve Cola cans at the same time-

There are three consecutive rows of Cola can structures in front of him. He has to use all sorts of techniques to jump over them. That way, he can rush down the bowl, and enter the final stage.

The arm he injured from the fall yesterday is still aching faintly. His feet seem to be protesting as well. He successfully jumps over the first row, the second row... Shaw holds his breath. He steps on the tail of the skateboard with his left foot. Gravity takes over quickly, and his right foot causes the skateboard to rise. The skateboard beneath his feet is akin to a flying fish jumping out of the water surface, creating a rotating arc above the Cola cans!

“It’s a dolphin flip!” Members of the audience exclaim.

Clack! Shaw’s shoulders wobble slightly when his feet return to the skateboard. When he finally stands steadily, he continues rushing forward. The final bowl is right in front of him. 

The moment the skateboard dives downwards, Shaw feels a brief moment of weightlessness. This feeling is reminiscent of being thrown out of the entire world, making one want to continue falling like this until they plummet into the bottom of the swamp. The deep bowl is like the trough he’s currently going through. If he’s unable to climb out of the trough, he will drown in hatred, anger, powerlessness, disappointment... and lose to that weak heart of his.

But he’s Shaw, and he won’t lose just like that.

With a rapid dash, he soars upwards without trouble - underneath the brilliant blazing sun, the youth leaps out of the bowl!

After flying out of the bowl, the inertia causes Shaw to stumble a few steps. He falls onto the ground, lying on his back while pressing the finish line.

At the same time, he hears a dull thud from the bowl - his opponent had fallen back into it.

“Shaw won!” “Shaw reached the goal first!” “That rascal actually won against Bro Zhou?” “This competition was so awesome!” ...all sorts of voices emerge in the surroundings in a disorderly fashion, and a set of footsteps walk towards him.

“Your name’s Shaw?” A masculine voice asks from above his head.

Shaw doesn't speak.

“I’m Coach Wang from Loveland City’s Qing Xun Skateboarding Team,” that voice continues. “I see that you have lots of talent, and will make a good young successor. Are you interested in joining the Qing Xun Team?”

While saying this, a registration form is handed to him.

The late afternoon sun illuminates the sheet of paper, reflecting a glaring light akin to snow. Shaw takes one look at the registration form, then shifts his lips slightly. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“My shirt’s really expensive, so it isn’t worth tearing them.”

The coach is rendered speechless.

Just as he’s about to say a few more words to persuade the kid, he suddenly spots the small flower at the corner of Shaw’s shirt from his periphery - this is clearly not an expensive t-shirt. These days, few shirts are mended using embroidery. And the fact that he’s willing to wear it despite the clumsy embroidery...

This kid has family members whom he cares very much about. The coach seems to understand this. His lips open and shut, and he swallows back the lines he prepared. In the end, he simply says, “...that dolphin flip you did earlier wasn’t bad.”

“Of course.”

The coach laughs as he leaves. Amidst the cheers from the surroundings, Shaw lies on the ground. Covering his eyes with his hand, he laughs.

“I won. Happy birthday to me.”

🛹 Shaw’s Date Prologue: here

[internalsealpanic]

What’s Wrong with Superman?

Summary: Flyman is a really stupid name.

a/n: I got a little excited so here’s my entry for @redhoodssweetheart​ ‘s writing challenge. If you’re a fic writer, I highly recommend joining.  This is for Quotes #1 This fic is based on the Superman Man of Tomorrow movie so it may not make sense otherwise.

Warnings: Reader is a bendy person so the physical descriptions will be weird and there will be some nsfw language but nothing happens.

masterlist

"What's wrong with superman?"  You ask, raising your feet up over your head and resting them against Clark's wall. The blood rushes to your head but you couldn't find the energy to care, not when the work day had you drained and aching. You're just happy to stretch your limbs and contort in angles that would loosen them. You need to convince your supervisor to transfer you to a different division.

"It's kinda..."  Clark waves his hand. "Yanno..."

Eloquent. You raise a brow at him telling him exactly what you thought about his solid argument.

"How about Flyman?" He says quickly.

"Ah yes, like the illustrious Batman but somehow worse." You say, turning onto your belly and nearly knocking over the things on Clark's bedside table. You shrug innocently. You shift, putting your feet over your shoulders as you think. "How about uuuuuh Captain Barbel?"

"Why?"

"Cus the guy could chuck them at people real easy." You answer simply. Clark really can't tell whether it was your excessive fidgeting or your monumental leap in logic that entertained him more.

He snorts, "That sounds like a dumb gimmick."

"So is being called Flyman." You huff.

"Careful, you're gonna hurt my feelings." Clark huffs in return, shaking his head as he grabs your favorite mug and one for himself. He has no idea how this specific mug was lucky but he's learned not to question a scientist's superstitions. Though he suspected it had less to do with actual superstition rather that you didn't want to admit that you just found the little cow-shaped mug adorable. He'll have time to tease you about it later. For now, he had to figure out this conundrum.

"If I was concerned about that, I would have pronounced Kansas properly by now." You say, sitting up to face him properly.

"What would you call him? Seriously." Clark says, resting against the kitchen counter. He's watching you with a hint of fond frustration. His leg bounces against the floor, fingers tapping on the linoleum countertop.

"Hmmmm," You purse your lips and lean forward- elbows on your lap, fingers laced together, and chin resting on your hands.  "Wonder Man?"

Clark's handsome face breaks into an incredulous smile. "Pfft, you’re joking right?"

"I have never made a joke in my life." You grin, taking the cup of coffee from Clark and scooting over to make room for him. You shrug. "There is a reason I'm not in advertising but seriously I think you should just go with superman."

"And give Lois the satisfaction?" Clark asks over the rim of his mug. He raises his brow.

"Think about it."

"Rather not."

You push on, ignoring him."If you popularize it, guess who gets the credit?"

"Are you telling me to steal?" Clark gapes at you and the mischievous glint and his blue eyes make laughter bubble in your chest.

You blow out a breath into the neck of your sweater. Well, his sweater up until 2 months ago. "Nope. You're the one interpreting it that way."

"Your boss is rubbing off on you."

"Oh, don't remind me."

"How about Captain Marvel?" He suggests, wrapping around his arm around your shoulder. You can smell the caramelized sugar in his coffee. You blanch.

"Oh. So you want a lawsuit."

"No..." A complicated expression takes over his face. His lips purse to one side as he thinks. You wait patiently for his answer, snuggling up to his side.   "How's it working at star labs by the way?" He says finally and you just had to love the clumsy way Clark tries to redirect conversations. He needs to get better at that if he wants to be a reporter. Then again, he's never failed to get an answer out of you with the earnest look in his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be in the engineering division, yeah?"

He nods before resting his face in your hair.

"Yeah, yeah. Him. Blegh." You wrinkle your nose and stick out your tongue, waving your hand in the air as if to shoo a thought away.

"But they stuck me with checking on that asshole biker wannabe..." You sigh.

"Lobo?" He asks, his voice rising a bit. Clark's grip in the mug tightens a bit but he has enough presence of mind not to break the mug.

"Well, did he say anything?" Clark asks, adjusting his glasses.

You squint. "My name isn't going on the paper."

"It won't." He says flat and steady. And you know you can trust him because, well, it's Clark.

You give him a crooked smile. "Nothing useful really. How much patience do you have for shitty pick up lines?"

Clark stiffens. "He was hitting on you?" He squares his shoulders. You see his jaw tighten and you think you can hear him grind his teeth. God, he's cute when he gets like this.

"He was hitting on anything with two legs."

And he was. Well, not really. You honestly couldn't really tell what his category for this thing was but you're pretty sure Clark doesn't care. He seems to care more about the fact that Lobo was hitting on you judging from the way he's borderline pulling you into his lap. You, frankly, were more concerned about what weird category you fit in to catch his eye.

"Maybe if I go with you next time..."

"You're cute Clark but I'm not sneaking you in there for a story." You pat his cheek.  Clark pouts at you. You try your best not to squeal at how cute he is. You fail.

"Let me come in with you." He presses.

"Honestly, it’s fiiiiiiiiiiine. Nothing I can’t handle."

He still looks unconvinced.

Clark buries his face deeper into your hair. "Hmmmmm, he sounds like an a- a jerk." He grumbles into your hair. You will get Clark to swear at some point.

You're extremely amused by Clark's behavior.  You wrap an arm around him. "Clark, he is quite literally contained in a cage I helped design. He is not getting out."

"Should I tell him I have a boyfriend and show him a picture of you?"

Clark's face goes ashen.  "Don't tell me you've done that before." That would explain so much.

"Then I won't." You laugh. That sound sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach no matter how many times he's heard it.

"I’d still feel better if I could come with you." He sigh. You would be lying if you said that you wouldn't feel better with Clark accompanying you. Sure, he wasn't Heracles but Clark was no pushover contrary to the shy demeanor. But... admitting that kind of thing was... not something you're comfortable with or used to so you let it settle like the cheap coffee in your mug.

"It’s really not necessary."  And Clark knows from the frequency of your heartbeat that you're lying. He knows you well enough to let it go. You kiss his cheek.  "But thank you, you’re disgustingly sweet."

You kiss him again. "Sides, I think he's just bored." Your eyes brighten, a memory resurfacing. Clark watches with interest, knowing there's a 50-50 chance that it's something like the material of Lobo's shoe. "Get this he says that superman guy is a kryptonian. Sadly, when I asked him the typical anthropology question he made farting noises." You tilt your head. "Well, he did say they were a good lay and... well the super guy was hung."

Red blooms on Clark's cheeks as he sputters out a response. You squish his face with your hands. You love messing with Clark way too much. You really should feel bad that look on Clark's face was priceless.

"Oh relax Clark, we both know my type is small town dork and not man from the moon." You giggle.

Clark kind of hates you sometimes.  He hates how easily you throw him off balance. Clark rights himself but he can't quite get rid of the blush dusting his cheeks. "Did he say anything else?" He asks, face still squished.

Unable to stop your giggling, you put your hands away. "Well, he called our mystery streaker a pretty boy."

"Very relevant."

"Yanno..." You drawl, taking Clark's glasses off. "yanno if you push that hair out of your face you'd look pretty good too."

Clark swats your hand away. You pout at him.

He looks at you wearily. "I like my hair how it is." He mumbles, fiddling with it.

"I'm not gonna cut it you dork. I just want proof that you have a forehead." You say, brushing some of his hair out of his face. Clark really does scream handsome when given the chance.

There's a flicker of recognition in the back of your mind that has your pulse quickening. Clark can already see the pieces falling into place, your mind whirring to get the answer.

His mind sprints to keep up and counteract the flow of your thoughts. Clark leans forward and kisses you softly. Without needing to open his eyes, he knows your mind is short-circuiting. Affection was a sure-fire way to get your mind to slow down. It was dumb but you really should be allowed to be dumb sometimes. Especially now when Clark isn't exactly sure how your feel about the mystery streaker.

You laugh your easy chirpy laugh sure but that didn't guarantee you were on board with an alien of all things. He wasn't even sure if you would think of him as any more than a test subject. No, he knew you too well to think that but there's still some part of him that isn't entirely sure and it scares him.

"Behave," he says, his face in a grin. The expression lights up his face. The smug satisfaction of finally catching you wrong-footed fills up Clark's features and shapes them into something borderline evil. "Tell me more about Lobo and his ramblings."

You shake your head. You mumble some version of “I always behave”.  You know Clark's hiding something from you. You can see it in the delicate way he's looking at you. You purse your lips deciding whether this is a good time to push but in the end, you decide to let him keep his secrets for now. If Clark of all people has a reason to keep a secret then it must be important. You brush your lips against his before laying your offer on the table. "A kiss per story."

Clark stares at you. "I can live with that." Clark huffs, adjusting his glasses.

[serenheist]

What Jennie is like in a relationship/ Relationship with G-Dragon Tarot reading

I know the anon asked for just a love life reading on Jennie but I’m extra and did everything lmao

What is the true nature of Jennie’s relationship with gdragon? Gloominous doom reversed 56, ace of swords, the hanged man reversed, lady of masks, triumph of lies, the glanconer 62 reversed

Oh god lmao. I don’t know why but I get the feeling this “relationship” is just for GD to be back on good terms with the korean general public. He got flack for smoking weed before, seungri shit, abandoning his dog, dating kiko etc etc. I really feel like him dating Jennie is just so the public has a better opinion of him when he decides to have a comeback lmao. Anyway the true nature of this relationship is literally someone full of extreme self pity had an idea to do this because it will make them look better and vice versa. But now there’s a feeling of being trapped. I really think this is an orchestrated relationship that was rushed and not based on actual love but for a specific purpose. But I do think it’s legit in the sense that it’s not that they’re not dating at all. But since Yg didn’t deny anything we can tell it’s “real”. Yg always denies if it’s definitely not a real relationship and always stays vague when it’s real. It’s made to look real for the public to get them talking but the core itself isn’t real. Basically pr shit. idc even if they got married none of this is real lmao.

I pulled 2 more cards from 2 different decks for extra clarification and I got the lady of masks and triumph of lies. You can’t make this up lol. “She reshapes the physical appearance of the souls who seek her out but this change is pure vanity, changing nothing of who they are at the core” it basically reflects who you want to be. This relationship is to make both parties look better lol. I feel that this is also a double meaning geared towards Jennie only because later cards in this reading continuously mention her wearing a mask. Triumph of lies is about keeping up appearances. This relationship is about living up to the expectations that society wants from you. I feel like it’s not just what people in the company want but also could be friends and family who put pressure on making this relationship happen for both. I can really see that since GD has a past of dating mostly models and the public has always been negative about everyone he’s dated except Jennie since she has a better reputation and for her this relationship can boost her status even more dating the king of kpop and being a power couple. I pulled a last card just to ask why you would need to fake a whole relationship even though we already know at this point and it’s redundant but I wanted to see how many times I can get cards saying the same shit. The glanconer 62 reversed: basically AGAIN someone is pretending to be other than they really are. I think both of them even believe in their own lie at this point and idk there’s a level of thinking you’re better than others so it’s okay to fool them anyway. Whatever makes you look good.

Who is Jennie in this/ her shadow aspect: obsession 3, gd: today for tomorrow 32

Since the beginning cards were pretty negative I wanted to dive deeper into Jennie and GD’s shadow aspects. And just use these cards to differentiate between them. GD is today for tomorrow and for Jennie I got obsession. The biggest shadow aspect to Jennie is that she feels as if she needs something whether that be a person, an idea, an object etc to give meaning to her life. She can also become really fixated on things to the point where that is the entire focal point of her life. It numbs her attention to other things.

How does Jennie feel about gd and how does he feel about her? Solus 13, the high priestess, the hierophant, gd: the guardian at the gate 3, queen of wands reversed, the fool

Jennie: Jennie feels that GD is someone who when you don’t know who to turn to or what to do, he is the person who can help you out. He encourages you stand on your own feet and utilize your own wisdom. But he also recognizes that you can’t do everything on your own so he helps you make the right connections with the right people and basically like a mentor position. I feel like they both almost see this connection as something “divine” at least in the beginning they could’ve convinced themselves this was this big divine intervention. But the reality started to set in and Jennie saw a different side of someone who has lost touch and went from being someone to look up to to becoming more “corrupted”. He no longer practices what he preaches, there’s lies mixed in with truth and the lines between right and wrong became more blurred. He does what he can to stay in power.

GD: He feels that Jennie is a new opportunity for a huge change. She’ll help provide an opportunity for him to make a big shift in his life. But at the same time he feels like she’s guarding herself and not being authentic with him. “Wearing masks that do not fit you”. I think he’s seen her change moods often from not figuring out how to release her passion and creativity in a healthy way and become more jealous and wanting to tear down others when she’s feeling down. Cause the queen of wands would be stepping in your power not hiding behind anything and appearing exactly how you are. Reversed it can bring out bring dramatic and feeling out of control of your own life and lack of enthusiasm. I think he’s seen her lose her passion for even being in the industry itself. I think that’s he’s wanting to take a leap of faith into something new I don’t know if he would want to stay in this “relationship” but I’m seeing it more of him going off on his own and stop worrying about the fear of the unknown. Honestly both seem like a hot mess for each other there’s a lot of work they gotta do on themselves separately because this whole connection is weird and toxic.

How long does it take her to get into a relationship? Does she prefer long or short term relationships? Princess of pentacles, 3 of swords, queen of swords 5 of wands reversed, 2 of wands, temperance reversed

She’s always been observant and was careful before in the beginning of relationships but no amount of carefulness can’t prevent heartbreak. It kind of hardened her and she learned how to play the game so to speak. The fact that the queen of swords is holding a severed head tells you all you need to know what happens if you break her heart. She seems burnout with relationships but at the same time can’t stop herself from not being in one because then you’ll be alone with your demons. I think she does prefer long term relationships but Jennie seems to go from one extreme to another. She plans for the long term but she also can’t control her emotions because they’re so intense. She’ll sabotage it and rush into a relationship with someone because she’s already planning this whole future and the other person is like “uhhh we just met..?” I think she builds up a fantasy in her head and gets carried away at times. And that’s where a lot of conflict and arguments arise and the cycle continues.

Past and present relationships. past: firgun 10 magick of you oracle, 2 of pentacles, Present: Euphoria 9, 5 of cups

I hate this word but I feel like in her past relationships she felt like the person she was with was her “twin flame”. This person was her mirror basically, every little thing she was and did was mirrored back to her. It was about learning how to heal the anger and hurt and learn to be happy for others success. But the relationship itself was a constant act of balancing career and love and all the ups and downs. It seems like even in her present love life she is still lingering over past relationships and now hides her actual feelings. There’s a lot of mask imagery in this whole reading. And not seeing everything you already have but being consumed with the thoughts of what went wrong or why it isn’t this way. And no longer sharing your true self fully. Instead there’s an element of not her not taking care of herself physically. Sharing herself intimately with people who treat her like garbage, poor eating, dragging yourself through workouts, excess of toxic substances; these are examples.

What is she like in a relationship? Eternal servitor, 10 of pentacles reversed, the lady of the harvest 18 reversed, the singer of intuition 7

This imagery of a person with no face and a whole in its chest really stands out to me again. It seems that when Jennie is in a relationship she still hides her true self and is constantly on a never ending search to fill something in herself that she feels is lacking. I think she uses money, clothing, love itself as a way to distract herself from this emptiness she feels inside and each time she wants more and more. Like she has to upgrade to the next biggest thing and it traps her in an infinite loop of never being satisfied. Idk but I guess it’s her wanting the world to see her importance; if she has these things then she is now worthy and it gives her a feeling of purpose. It’s not just the pressure of herself needing the best “thing” but a loooot of pressure from family and others to find a “suitable” partner. They need to come from the right background, make this amount of money, etc so her family can show off how wonderful this partner is and how amazing Jennie is doing. Even the next card “the lady of the harvest” reversed speaks of this again. It’s crazy how almost all of the cards are just saying the same thing. It’s about staying in denial and refusing to accept a loss and cling onto pain instead. Jennie is the type of person who thinks “if I can’t have it, no one will”. When she sees something she wants and can’t get it she will go into destruction mode because she feels that it’s the only solution. She’s not a forgive and forget person. A line in this guidebook really stands out to me “if you love something, let it go. If it doesn’t come back, hunt it down and kill it.” Pretty much sums up her mentality. Even if she enters a new relationship her mind is consumed by the past and the present relationship is only to save face and show off the image she tries to create to please literally everyone except herself. I think she’s very perceptive and can know someone who she’s with inside and out. She’s also very aware of the image she needs to uphold. There’s pretty much nothing you can hide from her because her intuition is so strong.

What is her "type"? the piper 24, 8 of wands reversed, Ta’Om the poet 29, Arthur

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: she likes musicians. Also the fact that this is legit the only faerie in this 66 card deck playing an instrument so what are the odds. She appreciates someone who pays attention to the subtle expressions of feelings and ideas and can see into her soul basically. It’s communication without words and that makes music that can heal your sorrows and pains. Someone that listens to not just surface level words but to the deeper meaning that can only be heard with your heart. Seductive, someone who looks serious but is actually mischievous and fun.

He encourages you to unfold your wings and fly, do the things you’re afraid to do, stop being silent and speak up, have a youthful spirit and do the thing you’ve been putting off for so long. He has a lust for life, adventure, an excellent storyteller and writing skills and a huge imagination. He has the power to inspire action with just his words. He sees things as they really are and sees beauty in all things even in the darkness and difficulty of life. He doesn’t take life so seriously though he knows how to laugh at himself and knows how silly it is to be sad over hardships in life. He doesn’t care for society’s expectations he’s a free spirit. But at the same time he slows down and knows how to enjoy the journey and not rush by the seat of his pants. He’s someone that’ll stand the test of time and be by her side through thick and thin.

What is her love language? Myk the myomancer 42, the oak men 47, 10 of wands

Idk if this really fits into any of the “official”love languages but her love language is someone seeing the small details, seeing meaning in the little things. So maybe little gifts even that don’t have to be huge but just shows that you’ve paid attention to what she likes as long as it has meaning and is well thought out. When you can’t see the finish line and it looks like it’s impossible to keep going that person is there to have your back. Also someone that sees her for who she truly is in her heart and can look past the superficial hard exterior cause I’m pretty sure it’s just a defense mechanism mixed with the environment she grew up and past relationships and she’s not actually the Antichrist contrary to how negative this reading may seem.

Probably typos but whateves

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 8: Fire and Ice

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

The bell has rung. Things are changing.

A/N: I really love writing from Liu's POV, it's super fun. Also, I love him. I super fucked up my eye but I'm still writing~~ Have a good weekend! -rolls into oblivion-

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Liu Kang covered his ears at the sudden awful ringing of the bell. It sat on the desk before him, unmoving, but the ringing was clear as day and it was miserable. Was this what Y/N had heard? It was deafening.

It was also frightening.

This couldn’t be a good thing.

He and Raiden had devised a series of studies to perform on each artifact to try and divine who had cursed them. Raiden had brought the bell back to the temple that morning for him to work with.

But the ringing was a literal alarm.

He abandoned the bell and told the monks keeping watch outside in the hall that it was in there and needed guarding. He also told them to let Lord Raiden know that he’d heard the bell when they got the chance. He bowed to them and then hurried through the halls of the temple.

He couldn’t help himself.

He had to check on you.

There was a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach and seeing you would ease that. But as he made his way through the halls, he saw the wind whipping through the windows. That feeling in the pit of his stomach had been verified. He broke into a run. He knew that Kung Lao would be helping you train today so he made his way to the fight pit and what he found made him stop dead in his tracks.

A massive vortex of shadow and ink swirled on the right side of the pit and on the left side Kung Lao was fighting an ink copy of himself. Fighting was the wrong word. Kung Lao was deftly avoiding the ink clone.

“A little help please!” Kung Lao blocked blow after blow with his hat, having to dig his feet into the sand to keep from being pushed back. Then he twisted beneath another slice of the ink hat, rolled aside, and leapt backwards. Liu Kang looked to the vortex nervously and then back to Kung Lao. “She’s in there but a little help here would be nice.”

“You can’t handle yourself while I try to get her out of there?” Liu Kang leapt into the pit, channeling energy between his hands. Fire spread over his palms at his command. It was startlingly bright considering how dark the vortex was making everything. Kung Lao made that sound he made when he didn’t know what to say and then leapt out of the way of another strike. Liu Kang knocked the ink version of him back.

“Don’t!”

“Why not? It’s attacking you.”

“What if it hurts her? What if hurting this thing hurts her?” Kung Lao pulled Liu Kang out of the way of another blow. He extinguished the flames in his hand immediately. He hadn’t considered that. They were a part of you. Even if it was someone else using your arcana against your will, it was still your arcana. He was unsure of the rules that came with that. Their gifts were so unique. He twisted away from Kung Lao and ducked beneath a blow from that dark hat and then leapt to the side narrowly to avoid the bladed edge that tore through his shirt. It appeared the clone couldn’t use the hat the same way Kung Lao could but it was still sharp.

“Careful!” Kung Lao warned too late.

“Yeah, thanks.” Liu Kang dusted off his hands and frowned. “I think we might have to take the risk.” Liu Kang wasn’t sure they could avoid hurting it. Especially him. Kung Lao could block with his hat but Liu Kang didn’t have anything. If he had to strike to dodge a blow then he would. “Besides, we already know that this hurts her. We have to stop it. If this is how we have to help then so be it.” He had confidence that they could subdue this creature and free you from whatever was causing this. He wanted to ask how it had started but they didn’t have the time for explanations between dodging.

“I hate that you’re right.” Kung Lao switched his stance and swung toward the ink copy of himself. It was surreal to watch. Kung Lao fighting Kung Lao was messing up his brain. But once Kung Lao turned on the offensive it became easier to focus. He didn’t have to dodge as much. Kung Lao kept the ink copy of himself on his toes. “You handle the vortex and… wait, oh never mind.” Kung Lao leapt back, putting distance between him and his clone then dusted himself off. The ink version did the same and then lowered into his stance, weight on his back foot and fingers brushing over the brim of its inky hat. The vortex was suddenly roaring. It was as if the clone understood that Liu was going to try to break through it.

“I don’t like this, Lao.” Liu Kang joined Kung Lao, ready in his own stance.

“You don’t like this? Do you have any idea how spooky this is? She knows me way too well.” Kung Lao grimaced but part of him looked proud. With a roar, something dark emerged from the vortex and Liu’s stomach tightened into knots. It was him. Made of ink. He stood side by side with the ink clone of his brother and mimicked his stance. While it could do that it could not mimic his fire. Dark plumes of ink rose above its palms instead. “Never mind again. I think you get it now.”

The ink sprang into action and Liu Kang had to duck out of the way and roll to the side to escape the blow from his mirror image. It was spooky. Kung Lao was right. Maybe Y/N did know them too well. He threw that thought away. He liked that you knew him. But this ink clone of him was accurate right down to the dragon marking on his ribcage and the scars on his shoulder. It was a true recreation of him at least physically. It did not move quite as elegantly as the clone of Kung Lao did. Probably since your martial arts styles were so different.

He was hesitant to strike but the sound of Kung Lao cursing as he was wounded encouraged him back into action. Kicking himself to the ground, he then twisted around his brother and struck the clone of Kung Lao right in the chest. Then he twisted and when the clone came at him again, he kicked it in the chest so hard it flew a few feet back. Then he ducked back as Kung Lao appeared in front of him, twisting from the ground into his hat. Then he flipped his hat into his hands and blocked the wicked slices of his ink clone.

But Liu caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to block the clone of himself. It jabbed left and so he knocked its arm aside and spun beneath it to kick its legs from beneath it. It leapt over his feet and then flipped backwards before jumping through the air toward him. Liu turned and grasped the leg of his clone and threw it against the wall behind him. The clone crashed with a thud and fell into the sand but quickly got to its feet.

Then there was a horrible clash of metal against stone and Liu Kang watched just in time to catch Kung Lao slicing right through the torso of the ink clone of himself. It fell apart with a sickening thud. They sat and listened nervously but there wasn’t even a peep from within the vortex.

Much to their horror, the bisected clone of Kung Lao climbed back onto its bottom half and put itself back together. It seemed to struggle to maintain its reassembled form but it didn’t stop it from attacking. Without hearing anything from Y/N, Liu Kang felt more confident that harming the ink didn’t also harm you. Hands bathed in flame, he struck his clone more freely, dodging blows and making strikes. He pushed it closer and closer to the vortex. They had to stop it. This had to be doing damage. To be used so severely.

But how could they stop you? He was reminded of when Raiden had struck you with his magic. That had stopped you.

They couldn’t do that again. It had nearly killed you.

He had to get to you.

Something dark and shimmering spread over the sand of the fight pit. It crackled like ice and as Kung Lao was forced closer to the vortex, he slipped and had to spin back and duck low to correct his balance. It was ice.

Whatever that vortex was and whatever was happening inside of it, it was bad news. He had a terrible feeling and he remembered the ringing of the bell. He wished there was a way to destroy it without also killing you.

Liu cornered his ink clone and smashed his fist so hard into its chest that it tore right through it. The ink bubbled around him and began to melt and drip over his arm. He was struck on his side and pulled his arm away, rolling onto the ice. Then kicked from the side and sent further sliding on the ice. Hands bathed in flame, he cracked the ice and it melted in the area around him. The air was frigid.

He coughed, the air knocked out of him but he caught himself and waited for the ink clone to come at him. It still had a hole in its chest which was surreal. He knocked it back and ducked beneath another blow. Then with a swirl of fire he engulfed it in flames. It bubbled and oozed and fell backwards.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the arena and Liu Kang swore that his heart stopped in his chest.

Y/N.

“We have to get to her, Lao!” He turned toward the vortex.

“You can try but it sliced the crap out of me when I tried.” Kung Lao gestured to his right arm which was scraped and bloodied. If it was that bad from a glancing blow then Liu Kang would be shredded to ribbons before he got through unless…

“I have an idea.”

“I’ll keep these two busy.” Kung Lao stepped back then twisted into the ground and reappeared above the clone of himself and crashed into it. The clone of Liu was bubbling but pulled itself back together and dodged as Kung Lao threw his hat at it. Liu ran from the fight pit, taking the steps in a great leap and then made his way into the room across the hall. He grabbed an old rug from the floor and then hurried back to the fight pit.

Wrapping the rug clumsily around himself, he ran into the vortex. He half-expected it to throw him back out into the sand but it didn’t. The wind whipped at him and he ducked further beneath the rug as he felt needles of darkness piercing his flesh. But much to his surprise, he made it through the wall of shadow that was shockingly thin.

There was another figure made from ink; armored and masked. He stood over you and you held a clumsy short blade made of ink. Ice spread from beneath the warrior’s feet and he was grabbing your arm. Ink spread over it in shards just like ice. You were struggling to get free and pain was written all over your face. The ink warrior didn’t seem to notice him so he threw the rug off, bathed his hands in flame and then mercilessly struck. The ice beneath his feet and spreading from the warrior shattered. You were free of his grasp and rolled onto your hands and knees, crawling away from the ink attacking you.

The warrior struck devastatingly quick but Liu was ready. With a burst of flames he absorbed the blow and struck back. The ink bubbled and Liu twisted and threw the warrior into the vortex where it was shredded to pieces. You were breathing shakily, crouched low. He moved next to you, hands bathed in flame to try and melt the remaining ice that covered your arm.

You were shaking all over so he urged his arm around you and pulled you against him. You stiffened up defensively as if you didn’t recognize him, jumping like a dog that had been abused. Still he pulled you into his arms and held the flame steady with the other hand to warm you. You were freezing.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he whispered to try and get you to calm down. You were in panic mode and he couldn’t blame you. You stared up at him finally, dumbfounded. It took you a solid few seconds to recognize him. Then you buried yourself against his shoulder and he held you. All at once, the ink lost its power and the vortex dropped around them with a solid thud. You held your hands together between your bodies for warmth, still trembling like a leaf.

Lightning crackled through the air and Liu caught his breath though his heart was still racing with nerves. Lord Raiden stepped into the fight pit and Kung Lao looked as surprised as Liu felt. Raiden must have gotten rid of the ink.

He checked your pulse and while it was fast, it was steady. You seemed okay.

“What is happening here?” Raiden’s voice was booming and commanding like the very thunder that he was lord over. Kung Lao, a little bruised and bloodied, made his way over to Lord Raiden but his eyes were firmly fixed on you and Liu.

“Not sure yet.” Kung Lao made his way over to you, crouching close by. He carefully took your arm and pried you away from Liu’s chest. He helped you to your feet. You looked exhausted and delirious, like you weren’t quite sure where you were. Something had drained you and Liu felt the anger boil inside of him. They had to do something. This couldn’t keep happening. It was going to end up killing you at this rate. “You’re drenched.” Kung Lao grimaced. Liu hadn’t even notice. You were soaked. Probably from the ice but you weren’t stained with ink. Peculiar.

“Y/N, what-“

“Bi-Han.” You interrupted Raiden. Your voice, while a relief to hear, was spooky and broken, like you’d done a lot of yelling. Raiden was caught by a very rare moment of surprise, as if of all the things he’d expected you to say, that name had not been one of them. Then he stepped closer and so Liu stepped in front of you defensively.

“I need to see what she saw.”

“It’s okay.” You began and pushed Kung Lao off of you and moved around Liu Kang. You were so dedicated to allowing Raiden to see the truth it was both sweet and sad to watch. You were so willing to let yourself go through hell to help them. “Someone else was using my arcana. I had no control over it. I’m so sorry. I’m so… so sorry.” Tears streamed down your face and Liu felt his rage melt away. He wanted to hold you.

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Kung Lao offered a goofy smile but even Liu could tell how forced it was.

“It’s not your fault.” He spoke quietly.

“Stop.” You turned to face them. Your hair was wild and you were pale. “It’s not fine. And it is my fault. This is my arcana. My curse. Someone is going to end up seriously hurt if this keeps happening!” Liu Kang wanted to argue with you but he didn’t see the point. He couldn’t think of what to say. You were right. Though he didn’t agree that it was your fault. You had no control over it. But someone was bound to get hurt, you were right. “It’s different when it’s you and Liu.” You fixed your eyes on the blood on Kung Lao’s arm. “But what happens when I’m in the infirmary and this happens? Or helping someone with a blade? Or just… getting breakfast?” You fixed your exhausted gaze on Raiden. “I can’t be near them anymore.”

“Yes. Of course. You’re right.” Raiden mulled over the idea. “We will move you further into the temple and away from others. To keep you and them safe.”

“You can’t just isolate her. That isn’t fair. And what about her medical needs? This is taking a toll on her.” Liu Kang had a thousand other concerns but judging by the relief he saw washing over you, this was what you would have suggested.

“We will ask for volunteers from the infirmary to help you. Or you will take care of her, Liu Kang.” Raiden volunteering him took him by surprise. He would do it, obviously, but he was still surprised by Raiden’s willingness to alienate you.

“This isn’t fair. This isn’t a solution. You can’t think it is. This is creating a problem to take care of a problem.” Liu didn’t like this idea. Not one bit.

“I’ll go with her. Move into a closer room. That way she isn’t completely alone.” Kung Lao volunteered. That still didn’t fix the issue! They had to do better than this.

“It’s fine.” You avoided everyone’s eyes. “I’ll be fine.” You clearly didn’t like the idea of being left alone but you also seemed to think that falling on that particular sword was the only way to keep everyone safe. Liu kept his mouth shut for the time being. This was not the time to be arguing over it. And you wouldn’t like what he had to say to Raiden on the matter.

“Come. I must see what it is that happened here. What you saw. Decipher this in hopes of unraveling more of your riddle. I must know why you knew that name.” Raiden gestured behind him and then started out of the fight pit without so much as another word. Kung Lao slipped an arm beneath yours to help you walk but you pushed it away and stumbled forward on your own. Liu Kang wouldn’t belittle you by trying to help you when you felt capable but he would follow you and watch you with his worried gaze the entire way.

[phantasticworks]

If You Don't Love Me, Pretend - Epilogue

Well. So here we are. it's been a long time (about three years actually) since I started writing this fic and it's grown significantly out of my control since then :') if you've been along since the start, or if you've just found this fic today, thank you for coming along this journey with me. It's been incredible and I'm forever grateful for all the support this fic has gotten <3 thank you so much for reading. keep your eyes peeled for bonus content!

read on ao3

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Three years later

Warnings for this chapter: none

It’s nearly six in the evening and there’s a chiming noise coming from the laptop in the lounge. Dan curses under his breath as he makes his way from the kitchen, hoping and praying the volume isn’t loud enough to wake a certain someone.

He gets there just as the Skype call is about to end, and is quick to press the “accept” button as he scoops the laptop up, retreating back to the kitchen with it. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey,” Phil says from the screen, a little smile on his face. “I thought you forgot about me.”

Dan rolls his eyes, setting the laptop on the island countertop and settling on a barstool. “Right. God forbid I’m two seconds late to our Skype call.”

Phil does an adorable pout. “I’ve been gone a week, I miss your face. Is that a crime?”

Dan smirks. “Yep. I’m gonna call the police, have them arrest you on the spot.”

“Hm.” Phil considers it for a moment. “I don’t think I like handcuffs enough for that.” He’s got this smug little look on his face, like he knows a secret.

Annoyingly, Dan blushes at that. “Shut up. You don’t get to flirt when you’re, like, on the other side of the freaking planet.”

Phil gives him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, hon. I’ll be back home in a couple days, though.”

Dan nods, propping an elbow up and resting his chin in his hand. “I know. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Phil replies easily. Dan loves that even now, after all this time, they’re still this disgustingly obsessed with each other.

“How’s work been?” Dan asks, changing the subject before he gets sad. He hates it when he gets sad during their Skype calls, especially when he starts crying.

Phil sighs, shrugging. “It’s been alright. I’m exhausted, though. You’d think I’d stop offering to go to these sorts of things for the BBC, but apparently I can’t help myself.”

Dan smiles at him. “You’re a dedicated worker. It’s a good thing.”

“Not when it takes me away from you guys for weeks at a time,” Phil mumbles petulantly. Dan has to agree there. “Speaking of, where are our kids?”

Nearly three years since the adoption was finalized and Dan still adores the sound of that. “The twins are upstairs, I think doing homework. I was starting dinner when you called.”

“Oh, sorry,” Phil says, smiling sheepishly.

Dan waves him off. “It’s fine. I’m doing stir-fry tonight, it won’t take long anyway.”

Phil nods at this, then asks, “Levi out with Charlotte?”

Dan smiles and nods. “Yeah. They went to see a movie, I think.”

“Did you make sure he had enough money?” Phil asks. He’s always got this perpetual fear that their son will be stranded somewhere with no money and no way home, so Dan’s gotten good at reassuring him.

“Yes,” he says patiently. “I let him borrow the car, and I told him that there’s some in the console if they need it.”

Phil nods, but his face is stricken with another worried look. Dan knows what’s coming before he says it. “Did they wear seatbelts? Are you sure he’s ready to drive on his own? I mean-“

“Babe,” Dan interrupts. “He’s nearly eighteen. He’s passed all his tests, gotten his license, and he’s practiced a lot. He’s earned a little bit of trust, yeah?”

He can tell Phil is still a little nervous and weary, but he nods in agreement. “Okay,” he says with a breath. “I just worry about him.”

Dan looks down, hiding his smile. His husband could be such an anxious mess when his kids were involved. “I know. But he’s fine. They’re fine. Charlotte’s aunt said she could stay the night, so they’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

“Oh, make sure you make her a separate serving of the stir-fry. She’s still doing the vegetarian thing, and I don’t want her to go hungry,” Phil says.

Dan’s heart clenches. He’s so full of love and that ooey-gooey affection that hasn’t dulled at all over the years.

“Sure,” he agrees with a smile.

“How’s-“ Phil begins to speak, but before he can, a piercing cry comes from the lounge. Dan jumps, and Phil laughs. “Speak of the devil,” he grins.

Dan makes a protesting noise. “Don’t you dare call our daughter a devil,” he chastises playfully.

Phil rolls his eyes. “Go get her, I’ll wait.”

Dan nods and quickly makes his way to the lounge, straight over to where the crying noise is coming from the bassinet in the corner. “Oh, dear,” Dan tuts in a high-pitch voice. Phil makes fun of him when he does that, calling him Winnie the Pooh every time. Dan leans down, smiling at the little bundle resting there, the crying softening to a sniffle when Dan scoops the baby up.

“Shh,” he whispers. “There we go. Daddy’s here, love.” He strokes her little fingers, grinning wetly when she clutches onto his pinky. “Aww, what a sweet thing. Do you wanna see your other Dad? Yes! Let’s go see Dada.”

He’s careful as he makes his way back to the kitchen, and he glances up at the laptop, smiling when he sees the way Phil is beaming at him through the screen. “Hello there,” he coos softly. “Oh, sweet angel. How’s she been today?” His tone shifts when he speaks to Dan, and Dan glances up at him again, having gotten lost in staring at her cute little face.

“She’s been a lot better today. I think Kath was right about the colic,” Dan says, absently stroking her little hand as he rocks her gently.

Phil nods. “So it was probably just gas?” He asks.

“I think so. I gave her a warm bath and did the bicycle thing with her legs earlier and she seems to be loads better now,” Dan replies.

“Good,” Phil says with a smile. “I read somewhere that if they’re still having trouble you can have them lay on their tummies and that might help.”

Dan nods. “I’ll try that if she gets fussy again. But the crying finally stopped, thank god.” He’s not religious but he’s not kidding in his thanks. The crying was literally about to drive him insane.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry I haven’t been there this week,” Phil says, his eyes dropping with something like shame.

Dan wishes he could kiss him right now. “It’s fine, Phil. We’ve been fine.”

“Still...” Phil shrugs. “I wish I would’ve been there.”

Dan smiles. “I know. But next time you will be, yeah? At least the BBC isn’t sending you out all the time these days.”

Phil nods. “Thank god. And thank god that Bryony lets you work from home.”

“I know, right?” Dan grins. He’s still a little over the moon about his career shift, even though he does find himself struggling to do both jobs part-time. But that’s something he won’t let himself worry about now.

The baby gurgles in his arms, and Dan coos at her. “What? Is our baby girl hungry? Hm? Time for din-din?”

“I guess I should probably let you go,” Phil says, sounding sad.

Dan glances up at him, frowning at the thought. He really does miss him a lot. “You don’t have to. Do you want to talk to the kids before you go?”

Phil smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Let me go grab them. Hang on,” Dan gently bounces the baby as he goes to the end of the stairs, covering her little ears gently before calling out, “Mia! Jai! Come here for a second!”

There’s some shouts of agreement and then Dan listens to the stampede of little feet as they race down the stairs. Thank god they’d finally moved into a house that they actually own, with neighbors far enough away that they can’t complain about the sounds that fill a house full of children.

Still, old habits die hard, and Dan gives them a look when they reach the bottom. “What did we say about running?” He asks.

The nine-year-olds at least have the decency to look ashamed. “Sorry,” Jaiden says, stepping closer and stroking his baby sister’s cheek with a gentle finger. “Hi, Nat-Nat,” he coos.

Dan smiles at that. “Dad’s on Skype, he wants to talk to you guys,” Dan says, and the words are barely out of his mouth when the twins are barreling off towards the kitchen. He rolls his eyes as he follows after them, mumbling to the baby all the while. “Sure, Daddy’s been feeding them and keeping them alive this week, but as soon as Dada is mentioned, it’s like I’m chopped liver,” he complains with the same baby-voice he always uses when talking to her.

She gurgles and Dan sighs. “You’re right. Dada is the best.”

When he reaches the kitchen again, both kids are hovered by the laptop, rambling about their day. They’re interrupting each other more often than not, but Phil seems to be getting the gist of everything regardless. Dan busies himself with preparing a bottle for Natalie, humming to her as he heats up the water. He smiles and makes faces at her to keep her occupied, and his heart leaps when her lip curls just a little.

“Aren’t you Daddy’s little angel? Hm? Our precious girl?” He says in a sweet voice, smiling when she smacks her lips. “Oh, someone is hungry, huh?”

Apparently Amelia is listening to him, because she pipes up from across the room. “I’m hungry,” she says loudly.

“I know, love, I’m going to start dinner as soon as I feed Nat and put her down for another nap,” Dan replies.

Amelia huffs. She mutters something, and Dan tenses. Things had been a little tense since they brought Natalie home over a month ago, and Amelia was not shy about telling them how much she didn’t want a little sister for the months leading up to Natalie’s birth. Dan hates to think that this is their reality for the rest of forever, Amelia disliking her little sister to the point of contempt, but at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“Amelia,” Dan hears Phil say over the Skype call. He’s using his fatherly warning tone, and Dan is partially relieved. This week has been hell trying to balance four kids and a job (thank god it’s summer and his school counselor tasks were more sparse this time of year) as well as the weird energy Amelia has towards the baby, so it’s a relief for Phil to finally step in.

“I know,” Amelia says with an irritated sigh, rolling her eyes. Dan gives her a look, and she looks down.

“Honey, I know you don’t like this change in our family, but that’s just the way things are now, okay? Natalie is here to stay, and sooner or later you need to figure out how to live with that,” Phil tells her firmly.

Dan’s careful not to say anything. There’s been many times, over the years, where he’s been inclined to argue with Phil over their parenting methods, and there’s been times when those arguments have become proper fights. But they’re working on communication, both with each other and their kids, so this time, he keeps his mouth shut. Honestly, there’s not anything Phil said that he doesn’t agree with, so it’s not a hardship to let him take the lead on this one.

Amelia rubs at her eyes. “Fine,” she says tersely.

Dan’s heart clenches. He hates to see any of his children in pain, and he knows that Amelia isn’t wrong to be upset. A new sibling is an upending of her life, and especially since she’s gone from being the only daughter to just the oldest. He thinks about how he felt, at seven years old, when Adrian was born. He gets it.

“Mia, do you want to help me cook dinner tonight?” Dan asks.

Amelia brightens a little at that. “Can I chop peppers?”

Dan smiles. “You sure can. I need my favorite sous chef if I’m going to feed the masses in an orderly time,” he says with a wink.

She giggles, and he relaxes. Amelia starts to tell Phil about something that had happened earlier that day when Dan took them to the park, and Dan hurries about finishing Natalie’s bottle so he can feed her. She’s starting to get fussy, and he’s bouncing her carefully as he readies the bottle, checking the temperature on his wrist.

“Here we go,” he says softly, tucking the bottle nipple in her mouth. “Good stuff, huh?” He smiles down at her, stroking her soft little cheek. Her eyes drift shut and he allows himself to relax, wandering back over to the laptop and standing behind the kids so he can see Phil again.

“And Daddy said that tomorrow we’re gonna go to the zoo,” Amelia announces proudly.

“Might,” Dan says, emphasizing the word strongly. “I said we might go to the zoo.” He rolls his eyes at Phil, shaking his head in exasperation.

“But Daddy-“ Amelia whines.

Dan’s already shaking his head at her. “Nope, don’t start. I said we might go. Honestly, I don’t know if I can handle toting all three of you around by myself.”

“Toting all three of them around where?” A voice says, interrupting Amelia’s next complaint.

Dan turns around where Levi and Charlotte are walking into the kitchen and smiles at them. “The zoo. Possibly. Hi, Lottie. How was the movie?”

Charlotte shrugs, going to settle on the barstool closest to Amelia, accepting the hug Amelia gives her with a smile. “It was alright. The special effects were horrible. You’re going to hate the ending.”

“No spoilers!” He protests, shaking his head adamantly since he doesn’t have an empty hand to gesture with.

She grins and pretends to zip her lips before turning to the laptop, the Skype call still open. Phil is smiling at them, that goofy kind that Dan knows well. It usually means Phil is thinking about how lucky they are to have this life. Dan understands the feeling.

“Hi, Phil,” Charlotte greets with a little wave.

“Hi,” he waves back with a smile. “Did you guys wear your seatbelts?”

Charlotte nods, but Dan notices her give Levi a pointed look and Levi sighs, pulling out his wallet. Dan watches in amusement as he takes out a couple pounds, handing them to her with a roll of his eyes. When she notices Dan looking at her, Charlotte shrugs, looking only a little bit sheepish. “We had a bet on whether or not one of you would ask us about that,” she explains.

Dan snorts. He turns to Levi, giving him a fake disappointed look. “Probably should’ve seen that one coming, Levi.”

Levi sighs. “I knew that you probably wouldn’t, and I wasn’t counting on Dad being here when we got home.”

“Sorry,” Phil says with a grin.

“Are we ever gonna have dinner?” Amelia wails, interrupting whatever it was Phil was going to say next.

“I’m starving,” Jaiden agrees from beside her. He turns to look at Dan, pouting. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just order pizza?”

Dan looks straight at Phil, giving him a very pointed look. “That one is all yours,” he says, nodding to Jaiden.

Phil at least has the decency to look almost embarrassed. “I mean... he’s got a fair point, babe,” Phil says with a little grin.

Dan sighs. Natalie’s bottle makes a snapping noise and Dan looks down to find she’s only got a couple swallows left in the nipple. He’s careful to watch and pull it out of her mouth before she can start swallowing any air, placing it on the counter to be washed later as he grins at her. “Well done Nat-Nat! You finished all your din-din.”

The baby gurgles at him and Dan smiles as he takes her up to his shoulder, burping her gently. The kids are still talking amongst themselves, but Dan catches Phil watching him through the screen. He smiles helplessly, shrugging at his husband, and Phil grins back.

“I guess I should let you go so you can put her down and start dinner,” Phil says, a resigned sigh in his voice.

Dan hates it, but he’s right. Dan could sit here talking to Phil all evening instead of ever bothering to cook dinner, and with a houseful of hungry children, that’s hardly an option. “Yeah, I guess so,” Dan agrees. “Everyone, say goodnight to Dad, he’s gotta go eat some dinner and get to bed, and so do we.”

The kids all make their noises of complaint but he watches, rocking the baby with a smile, as each of the kids tell Phil goodnight. Dan shoos them all out of the kitchen with Levi’s help, and then it’s just Phil and Dan and the baby.

“I miss you,” Dan says.

Phil smiles. “I miss you more.”

Dan shakes his head, resting his cheek gently against Natalie’s little head. “I seriously doubt that,” he says softly.

“It’s true,” Phil replies, dropping his chin to rest in his hand. “But I’ll be home soon, okay?”

Dan nods. “Right,” he agrees. “I love you.”

Phil blows him a kiss, their usual parting on these calls. “I love you too, bub. I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“Okay. Goodnight. Love you.”

Phil grins when Dan repeats himself. “Goodnight, Dan. I love you. Tell the kids I’ll be home soon.”

“Of course. Bye,” he says, waving for a second before the screen goes black. He sighs, looking down at Natalie’s sweet, sleepy little face. “I can’t wait for your other Dad to come home, munchkin. This one needs a break and a good snuggle.”

She smacks her lips and closes her eyes and Dan smiles, rolling his eyes. “I know, your life is so hard, being a baby. Let’s get you down for another nap, love.”

~~~

The next night, Dan wakes up from a deep sleep to warm breath on his neck. At first he’s confused, grunting as he tries to roll over, but a heavy weight around his waist stops him. “What the...”

“Shh,” a deep and unmistakable voice murmurs in his ear. “‘M tryin’ sleep.”

Suddenly, Dan is wide awake, rolling over quickly despite the protests from his husband. “Phil,” he breathes, warm and happy.

Phil blinks at him, a goofy, exhausted smile on his face. “Hi,” he says sheepishly.

Dan wraps himself around Phil immediately, peppering kisses to everywhere he can reach. “I missed you,” he kisses across Phil’s brow bone, feeling Phil’s breath on his collarbones. “So much.”

“I missed you too,” Phil replies with a little laugh, kissing at Dan’s throat.

Something occurs to Dan then and he pulls away, staring at Phil with a furrowed brow. “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.” He doesn’t mean to, but he can’t help but be a little accusatory. He wanted to make sure the house was clean, maybe do some laundry. Just the sort of husband things one did when they were in the best relationship of their life.

Phil gives him a sheepish smile. “I changed my flight so I could come home early and surprise you.”

Dan feels so much all at once, it reminds him of how it was in the early days, before the kids, before the fostering, before they even knew that they had feelings for each other. It’s overwhelming for a moment, and then Phil is tilting his chin, guiding their mouths together in a perfect kiss.

“Mm,” Dan hums against his lips. “I love you.”

Phil laughs. “Love you more.” His hand slips down Dan’s waist, his fingertips dipping just under the hand of Dan’s pants. Dan is hit with a wave of arousal so strong, and it’s not lost on him that it’s been more than a month since they had proper sex. He loved Natalie more than life itself, but raising a baby on top of the three children they already had was proving to be much more difficult than they’d anticipated. But after all they’d been through, the strain of no sex was nothing they couldn’t handle. After all, they’d gone ten years without it before.

Still, he’s only human, and when his husband is petting the soft skin at his hip, he can only react like any mortal man would. “Baby,” he sighs.

“Hm?”

It hits Dan what he’d just said, and he quickly remembers the other inhabitant of this room. “Phil. Phil, the baby,” he mumbles, tapping Phil’s arm.

“Already took care of her,” Phil replies back, kissing at Dan’s jaw.

“What? When?” Dan asks, pushing him back a bit.

Phil smiles. “When I got home. You were already asleep so I checked on the kids and then took Nat downstairs for a bottle and some cuddles.”

“Oh.” The image of that, of Phil coming in late and taking their baby down for her midnight bottle, is nearly enough to make Dan cry and definitely enough to turn him off. “Well, thank you for that, but I don’t think I feel like fooling around tonight, if that’s okay.”

Phil pecks him on the cheek with a little giggle. “Of course that’s okay, you idiot. I didn’t just come home early for that, you know. I mostly missed having my little space heater,” he says with a grin.

Dan rolls his eyes, but can’t help the way he smiles and leans in for another kiss. “Sometimes I think you only married me for my good looks and my stupidly hot body temperature.”

Phil kisses him back, but he’s smiling so hard that it’s sloppy. “Oh for sure. Those were my top two requirements for a husband. Is hot, runs hot.”

Dan snorts. “Right. So, father of your children was somewhere further down that list, I’m assuming?”

“Something like that,” Phil teases.

“You’re such an idiot,” Dan smiles, kissing Phil’s cheek before snuggling in for the night.

“But I’m your idiot,” Phil says in a stupid, sleepy voice.

Dan smiles, pressing one last kiss to Phil’s chest. “Always.”

[yb-cringe]

Hello id love to hear the mianite subtext (if you want)

OHOHOHOOOOO THANK YOU JEM—

I was gonna make it no matter what but yes thank you for the ask i feel Seen 💞💞

*slams hands on table

I dont know if yall have seen Tom’s vods from mianite, theyre pretty long, but they cover a lot of important info for his character.

Basically; Two friends go onto an island and because they had no option but to pick a god, they were forced to be enemies when the gods were on. Otherwise, they were friends fucking around and having fun. Pranks, etc, nothing too harmful. But based on Jericho’s reactions- he knew Tom wouldnt hurt him unless he was forced by Dianite (in the beginning)

Cue episode 4(?) where Dianite pops in for the first time and scares the living shit out of everyone. He chases down Jericho, tells Tom to kill him, and when Tom can’t get Jericho to the sacrifice pit, Dianite scolds him but gives him weapons TO kill Jericho. He’s then told to NEVER talk to Jericho again.

You can literally see the struggle when Jericho is cheering that Dianite is gone and he’s like ‘woo! You dont have to kill me now’ and Tom stands there trying to decide whether he answers him. Basically; he does eventually and gets fucked over for it. He loses all of his items, he can’t kill Jericho, he gets his shit taken away (god items that Jericho got by doing... nothing really) and then because of terrible communication- Jericho thinks Tom tried to blow up his house so he blows up Tom’s (who wasnt going to do that) and they get into an argument, which ends in Tom watching Jericho leave with extreme hatred for who was like. His best friend that morning.

Sparklez comes along eventually and things get worse mostly because after Sparklez, Tom gets stuck with players who better embody Dianite and like chaos and death and killing without cause which Tom doesnt want to do. Example, he and the Dianite team are chasing down sparklez and Tom specifically says ‘Don’t kill Sparklez’ probably to maintain his uneasy alliance and friendship with the guy. And when one of them DOES- Tom pulls the guy away and SCOLDS HIM for killing Sparklez and formally apologizes for him.

Its why when they said Tom was an Ianite follower, I really wasnt all that surprised. Tom isn’t “evil” or likes to fuck people over, Tom is just more of a chaotic neutral type. He’s on the less orderly side of balance, but still not entirely good or bad.

Back to the idea; Tom’s been told to not talk to his friends anymore, his items are taken from him when he disobeys, and he’s still punished a lot by Dianite for absolutely nothing (struck by lightning, more often then not). He’s surrounded by people who CHOOSE to be Dianite when Tom didnt really have a choice in the first place.

So FINALLY when he gets to the end of the whole thing jn the first season, Dianite is just berating the fuck out of him and Tom is struggling to deal with his morality, and then he KILLS him. And the powers of Dianite are, supposedly, gone to Tom who is the new ‘dianite’. And everyone expects Tom to fuckin go off and kill everyone, but he doesnt. He’s not more evil or bad or manipulative, he’s actually just giddy and excited and exactly the same as before. Because A) its a lot of power and thats cool but B) because Tom’s finally free! He doesn’t have to do what Dianite says anymore and even with his power, he’s nothing like the old god.

We can also leap further into assumption and say the reason why Dianite and Mot were in such a good healthy loving relationship in Season 2, is because it shows exactly the opposite of what Tom and Dianite s1 were— abusive, unhealthy, destructive.

And if you WANT to include season 3, we could say the reason Tom makes such an evil looking altar for dianite is because he knows if he doesnt make it look badass, the guy will fucking hate him. But he doesnt really care, because when s3 Dianite says he’s into flowers, Tom is like “ok! What flowers? I can get them for you!”. He doesnt even care dude he just wants to make his god happy for once.

TL:DR— Tom made an exceptionally cool underlying story of escaping an abusive partner (who tries to isolate you, hurts you and your friends and calls it help, and actively forces you to do things you CANT actually do) and actually solved it by killing the abuser, and showing that Tom doesnt continue the cycle of abuse. a narrative we dont often see because its ‘looked down upon’ or ‘impossible’ (which its not).

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] All Demon Brothers + Undateables as Babysitters (Part 2)

Scenario: For the sake of the exchange program (probably), the entire cast is now in charge of taking care of kids ranging from infants to pre-K children at a daycare with you. Headcanons on what type of babysitter they would be + whatever cute shenanigans that may occur

Note: Baby fever!! Inspiration is the entirety of Gakuen Babysitter/School Babysitter, as previously mentioned. 

why do i always make my headcanons so long

[Part 1] has the 7 Demon Brothers

Part 2 will have all Five Undateables

-

Solomon

“Kids are just so funny, don’t you think?” 

Similar to Satan where he acts very casual and is actually very casual, but… the kids are scared of him LMAO

They can’t vibe him out so every time he tries to help them, they’re a little nervous and would prefer to just latch onto you, so if anything he helps the kids bond with YOU 

He doesn’t seem to bothered by the cold response, and if anything, seems amused by it and encourages the fear for a little since it lets the kids listen to him immediately, but you’re quick to suggest that he please drop the sus front and help you

Solomon uses magic to appeal to the kids-- real magic but also magic tricks mixed in there as well and the kids are fascinated 

“Is that magic?”

“Yup!” Solomon says, summoning dozens of birds from a random hat he found. (The clean-up was horrendous.) 

It’s so easy to win them over after that with his sleight of hand-- pulling out a coin from your ear or a flower from your nose-- and overall using his skills to dazzle the kids into forgetting they were ever afraid of him 

Likes to tease the kids though, which sometimes results in them crying if he accidentally takes it too far like if he says “I’ve got your nose!” and then proceeds to ‘poof’ it out of existence by pretending to put it into a hat and disappearing it-- like Solomon, c’mon they’re three years old, they’re not going to be able to tell whether or not you’re joking so put that nose back where it belong or so help me-- 

On the other hand, Solomon is adept at cheering kids up when they’re upset by doing silly antics like continuously pulling out coins from the kid’s ears and being (fake) surprised by how much is coming out so the kids giggle

Solomon is quite fond of kids so he actually doesn’t really mind this episode of babysitting 

He’s basically just acting like an older brother to all these kids

Quite efficient with diapers and feeding babies

Diavolo

It was definitely his idea to do this, and like everything that’s new to him, he’s excited to see how he can handle it and whether the kids will like him

Spoiler alert, they do

Diavolo tells so many dad-jokes, and it makes the kids giggle every time; they love his energy and how he lets them do whatever they want (to an extent) as long as they stay safe

The kids probably disappointed them once by doing something they weren’t supposed to or by not listening to you, and his sad ‘i’m not mad, just disappointed’ look is enough to make them not want to do anything bad ever again 

You probably think Diavolo lets the kid run wild, but he’s actually very attentive to each kids-- sensing whether they’re upset or not and keeping an eye on the kids whenever they’re outside playing 

The kids probably know it too, inside, that Diavolo will keep them safe, so they like hanging out with Diavolo and trust him a lot, which is honestly the highest praise to Diavolo who beams every time the kids are comfortable enough to nap around him 

Similar to Beel, uses his strength to appeal to the kids, lifting them up and carrying them around-- but in the most chaotic way possible; you’re not worried he’d drop them, but seeing him carrying a kid by the leg behind his back or having two kids on each of his shoulders makes your heart leap to your throat every time (for more than one reason)

At this point, you’re not sure if Diavolo is the dad or the funny uncle 

When Diavolo talks to the kids, he is so gentle with them-- if any of the kids ever do something bad, the best person to talk to them is Diavolo because he sounds so understanding and tbh getting chided by him feels like you’re being scolded by your dad

When you ask him why he’s so good at handling kids, he just gives you a smile; he’s fascinated by kids, mainly because they grow up so fast and learn so much from the world around them, and he wants to encourage that sort of positive outlook for them

Simeon

He’s the type of babysitter that everyone tries to be good for because making him sad is the Worst Thing you could possibly do

Simeon knows that all the kids love him to the point that they’d be good for him, but he doesn’t like them know that and he definitely uses that to his advantage when trying to convince them to take their nap or be nice to each other 

Surprisingly strict when it comes to keeping schedule and cleaning up; makes sure everyone has a role and that they’re all being fair to each other-- so he has that good balance of being super nice that he’s well-liked but strict enough so that they listen to him 

Probably helps the kids put on a play reenacting either their favorite book or even something that Simeon wrote out for them

You’re a little worried having him direct, but Simeon assures you that he knows that they’re kids and he won’t hold them to the same standards as he did for the RAD School Festival

He’s actually gentle and very nurturing-- some kids probably accidentally call him mom (but he’s really nice about it and laughs, brushing it off so the kid doesn’t get too embarrassed)

if you encourage it the entire daycare might end up calling him mom at least once

Simeon really encourages their expression and praises come easy to him so the kids are always eager to learn more and do better while also having fun; also what he doesn’t know is that the kids are super in love with his smile

He’s quite used to mentoring kids and likes to see kids explore their environment and learn from experience rather than have him tell them what to do-- he’s the type of babysitter to ask them what they learned and ask whether or not that was a good/bad idea so that they can formulate their own world view and grow

Definitely gives the kids ‘tasks’ to complete or their first errand to run and watches over them as they do it just to make sure they don’t get hurt while doing them; then rewards them whenever they succeeded

Barbatos

Something about butlers being very similar in every story, but Barbatos is definitely a diligent and extremely efficient babysitter-- and the kids are fascinated with him

They follow him around, eyes wide open, as if doing so will help them see and understand how Barbatos can clean up the room in five seconds tops and change a diaper with a sweep of his hands

He definitely notices this, and if he’s using more dramatic motions just to put on a show for them, no one comments on it 

Barbatos is like those enigmas where you don’t really know how strict he is, but you’d rather not find out 

It’s in the way he speaks and in his tone of voice that the kids pick up the fact that they should probably behave when Barbatos is babysitting them-- and it’s further amplified when Barbatos tells a kid to not do something without even turning around to look and now the kids are convinced Barbatos has eyes at the back of his head 

He definitely bakes goods and cuts up fruits for the kids to eat during recess or break time, so if the kids weren’t won over before, they definitely are now

To be honest, when you have a babysitting shift with Barbatos, you’re hard pressed to get him to let you work since he gets everything done so quickly and without prompting

Luke

Is literally the biggest kid in the playground 

Sweet and tries to help you wherever he can when it comes to the kids, but is a little lost when it comes to comforting an upset kid-- and he’s very distraught that he doesn’t know how so he ends up baking and giving cookies to kids who did well or to cheer them up, so honestly that’s perfectly good on its own

Carried a baby once and now he doesn’t ever want to let go because… you mean to say all humans were this small once? You mean you were this small once? He’s a little in awe because he’s never been exposed to much outside of the celestial realm, so this very well may be the first time he’s seen human children

Some of the kids definitely do have a fun time teasing him though, pulling on his apron or shirt and then running away when Luke gets mad at them, but the kids do love Luke though-- he really is like their older brother and they follow him around like ducklings as long as Luke doesn’t notice 

He learns really quickly and gets really good at taking care of the babies and interacting with the kids, and you’re really proud of how he’s grown during this time 

Luke is very sad when they have to leave and stop babysitting because he got really attached to the kids and actually really liked being needed and taking care of them; if the kids start crying at him leaving, he WILL cry with them

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (43) || atz

It’s a fine day once more.

The morning sun shines down upon the Treasure, its golden rays touching your cheeks as you glance up at the sky. It’s been peaceful the last few days, and you’ve heard from Yeosang that your captain has begun considering sailing back to Nassau so that Seonghwa can visit his childhood friends Seohyun and Soobin.

The cook’s been in a much more cheerful mood for the last few days after hearing those words, excited about seeing how their baby is coming along. He can’t stop gushing to you in the kitchen about how cute he thinks the baby is going to be, worrying endlessly whether they’re going to be alright, to the point that you’ve resorted to stuffing bread rolls in his mouth to keep him quiet so that he can focus on his cooking.

You don’t him to end up with two less fingers like Soobin.

After preparing breakfast with Seonghwa, you’re now seated in the rigging swaying back on forth with the wind, letting the sun warm your face as you prepare for another day ahead.

“I can’t wait to get back onto dry land.” Yunho comments with a groan from above you on the main mast, hanging upside down from the ropes. You glance up at him with a smile, shielding your eyes against the sun.

“I’m sure Jongho could always throw you overboard if you’re sick of being on the ship.”

High pitched laughter comes from beside you and you turn to see Wooyoung swinging over from the mizzen mast, grinning as he steps over to you, expertly keeping his balance on the yardarm. He’s surprisingly steady on his feet, considering the last time you’d seen him yesterday, he was screaming drunken insults about Yunho’s apparent pea sized brain for not understanding how the mizzen mast was the better of the two. He bows mockingly, gesturing to the sparkling ocean far below you.

“Maybe you’d like to go for a swim, your majesty?” Wooyoung jibes, barely able to keep the snicker out of his voice. The lookout tosses his shoe at his friend and Wooyoung ducks easily, catching it in his hand.

“Be silent, you knave.” Yunho grumbles, now missing a shoe. Reclining against the ropes, he gazes at the horizon with a steady eye, body bobbing up and down with the pitch and roll of the ship. “I still haven’t forgotten the last time you pushed me off the yardarm to save your own ass and I fell into the sea because of you.”

You raise your eyebrows as you glance at a shamelessly grinning Wooyoung, who is neither denying nor confirming it. Knowing the head gunner, however, it’s probably… no, definitely true. “How did that happen?”

Wooyoung opens his mouth to answer, but before the silver tongued charmer can say another word, Yunho cuts in, obviously knowing full well Wooyoung is going to twist the story upside down to his own advantage.

“We were on the main mast, arguing about how the main mast is obviously the better mast,” Yunho begins with a haughty tone, ignoring Wooyoung’s cry of indignation. “When San was at the wheel he stupidly beached the Treasure on the shore and the whole ship jerked. I, being the better rigging monkey, caught my balance, but Wooyoung-”

You unconsciously grip the ropes beneath you a little tighter, suddenly wary of falling off the mast yourself. Ahh. So that’s why no one on the ship trusts San with the wheel. You sometimes wonder how they even trusted him with their injuries in the first place.

“I’m a better rigging monkey than you!” Wooyoung splutters in outrage, but Yunho flat out pays no attention to him, continuing with his tale. “As I was saying, I caught my balance but Wooyoung fell. I was reaching down to save him, but then he grabbed my arm-”

“I didn’t need any saving-”

“And I fell off instead! It’s twice as bad because he stayed on the mast and I didn’t!”

“I was perfectly capable on staying on the mast myself, thank you very much.” Wooyoung grumbles, but Yunho isn’t listening to him in the slightest. In fact, he’s so pumped up with ranting that he’s starting to wave his long arms around like a windmill, complaints spilling from his mouth completely unchecked.

“And do you know what else he did? During a battle at sea, he even jumped onto the main mast on purpose! My precious main mast! The crow’s nest got blown off, you know? That’s like the head of the mast!’

You’re starting to lose Yunho to this silly argument, having no idea where this is going.

“Why is it Wooyoung’s fault the main mast got hit?”

Yunho stares at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because he’s so ugly everyone tries to shoot him.”

“What did you say, Yun Hoe?” Wooyoung screeches in the background like an offended pigeon. “Haven’t you forgotten that time you grabbed onto the mizzenmast sail and ended up tearing a huge hole in it? You defiled my beautiful mizzenmast and exposed her for everyone to see!”

You’re utterly lost from this conversation now, baffled as to why any of this matters in the first place. “Come on, guys…”

“You blew the mainmast’s head off!”

“You shamed the mizzenmast in front of the whole crew! The disgrace, Yun Hoe, the disgrace-”

“Oh yeah?” Yunho actually looks furious now, drawing his cutlass from his side. Panicking, you turn to Wooyoung, expecting him to use that glib tongue of his to somehow worm his way out of the antsy situation, but you’re shocked to see that he’s drawn his own blade as well, looking every bit ready to fight Yunho.

“Come at me, Yun Hoe!”

“It’s on, Poo Young!”

Sighing at their antics and the sheer stupidity of it all, you turn around to glance at the sea before you. It’s the same as before, an endless expanse of shimmering, deep blue as clouds drift past the horizon, sun shining-

Wait.

Frowning, you block out the sounds of Wooyoung and Yunho’s ridiculous squabbling, leaning forward to squint at the delicate line separating the ocean from the sky. Puffs of white clouds are rolling across the blue sky, but there seems to be a patch of white moving in a different direction from the others.

“What’s that?” The words leave your lips in a mutter, but Yunho hears it even over his argument with Wooyoung. His eyes narrow warily even as he sheathes his cutlass, stepping over to you.

“What is it?” He asks you and you point far into the distance, trying to understand how that one white shape is moving towards you instead of away from you, like the rest of the clouds are.

“That cloud is acting weird.” You tell him, feeling Wooyoung step towards you from behind, curious as to what is happening.

Suddenly, Yunho stiffens next to you, staring at the white shape. Frowning, you turn to ask him exactly what has gotten him to tense, but Wooyoung seems to realise it as well, fingers tightening on your shoulder unconsciously, all traces of his argument with Yunho vanishing in sight of the odd cloud.

“That’s not what I think it is, am I right?”

Yunho chews on his lower lip. “But why would any of ship be out here?”

You finally realise it now. The white shape that’s growing in size is actually a sail, starkly contrasting against the blue sky behind it. A chill runs down your back as you lean forward unconsciously, trying to catch a better glimpse of it, but Wooyoung pulls you back before you can fall over.

“Wouldn’t want you taking a dip now.” Wooyoung tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s obvious that he’s worried at what the sight of this white sail could mean, considering it could be a simple merchant ship or even a Royal Navy frigate.

The three of you wait with baited breath as the ship grows in size.

Then suddenly, as if they can read each other’s minds, Wooyoung and Yunho both freeze at the same time, the very tension in the air sends a shiver down your entire body. You turn to glance at the two of them, confused as to why they’re acting this way.

“What is it?”

“It’s them.” Yunho spits as he stares at the horizon, seeing the snowy white sails crest the waves. You frown, unable to see as clearly, leaning forward and squinting to see what exactly could be causing your two fellow rigging monkeys so much distress.

Wooyoung curses, baring his teeth as he leaps to the ropes as fast as he can. “I’m going to tell Captain.” With that, he slides to the main deck with an urgency you’ve rarely seen in him, in such contrast to his usually easy-going and cheerful self.

But then you catch sight of it and your own eyes widen in horror.

On the sails fluttering in the wind is a red shape, starkly contrasting against the snow white background.

The same sigil decorating the shoulders of the coat you had woken up with.

The symbol on the red wax seals of Lucio’s letters.

The emblem of a crimson rose.

Your heart sinks in your chest.

It’s the Royal Navy.

“Damnit.” Yunho curses under his breath, fingers tightening on the handle of his cutlass. He’s afraid of what this might mean, for the crew and for him. How did they find you here? Was it simply by chance? Or have they been tracking you somehow? “We’re going to get into a huge battle again. I hope you’re ready for a fight, Chin Hae.”

“Is it stupid to hope that they’re not here to kill us?” You mumble under your breath but Yunho snorts, shaking his head.

“We literally all have bounties stamped on us. There are rewards of up to five hundred gold pieces for our captain’s head. Fifty for each crew mate. Two hundred for San. Two hundred fifty for Jongho and I. Three hundred for Mingi and Wooyoung.” He exhales shakily, staring as the blood red rose grows ever closer. “If they don’t want to kill us, I’ll eat my own shoe… and Wooyoung’s at that.”

You laugh nervously, trembling fingers seeking his and gripping tight as you watch your impending doom. “Want to raise the stakes?”

“I’ll even admit the mizzenmast is better.” Yunho mumbles uneasily under his breath. Just as he says those words, the sound of a iron bar being struck repeatedly rings throughout the air and the deck floods with activity, the crew swarming to the bulwarks to search for the impending threat. He pushes you lightly to the ropes. “You should go. San will want you with him when the action starts.”

Nerves rise up in you, but you force it down and slide down the rigging, careful not to burn your hands on the ropes from friction. You drop onto the deck, making your way to the quarterdeck where you had last seen your master.

To your surprise, Yeosang is there as well, Mingi at the stairs bellowing orders to the crew to ready the cannons and prepare for battle. You hear the sound of the cannon carriages being wheeled to their spots, the powder monkeys running about in organised drills to ferry the gunpowder to their guns. All of the crew are readying their weapons for battle, suiting up and loading their muskets.

Tension runs high in the air and adrenaline in your veins as you step to the railing, where Yeosang and San are. Wooyoung must have headed to the gunwales to handle his powerful cannons, the long nine and the 42 pounder, the two most deadly and lethal weapons on the Treasure. San reaches for your hand nervously, squeezing it tight.

“Are you scared?” He asks, and you don’t bother lying to him.

“Yes.”

You hate the way your voice cracks even though you’ve been in battle twice already, once with the Royal Navy before and the other on Nassau. You wish you were braver than this, but you can’t stare death in the eye without the slightest whit of fear like your captain and Yunho and Jongho can.

Yeosang takes your other hand, and even though his face is ashen and pale, he still pats your hand comfortingly.

“Don’t worry.”

You’re reminded of the first time you had been attacked by a Royal Navy ship near Tortuga, Yeosang too, had taken your hand and told you not to worry. The difference this time though, was that you were no longer just a amnesiac girl who had to be protected by Jongho, but a person reasonably well versed with the cutlass and musket, who had experienced dangers and could help people around her with her healing ability.

You just hoped it would be enough.

“Yeosang-ah, can you tell anything about the ship?” Your captain calls from this wheel, his voice eerily calm as if they aren’t on the verge of a massive battle.  Yeosang leans forward a little, squinting as he tries to make out distinctive features of the ship.

“It looks like a standard Navy ship, about fifteen cannons down each side on the upper deck. A three masted frigate with no battering ram and it relies on sail power, not on rowers. But…” Yeosang’s voice trails off in shock and you glance at him in worry.

“But?”

You had thought that Yeosang was already pale from fear, but then all at once every drop of blood seems to drain from his face, leaving him white and bloodless. His fingers tighten on the railing of the ship, mouth falling open in horror and pupils dilating in fear as he stares at the approaching ship in shock.

Concern floods you. “Yeosang-oppa?”

“The flag they’re flying…” Yeosang breathes, barely above a whisper. “It’s a black crow.”

San stiffens.

“What?”

Hongjoong somehow manages to hear that over all the noise coming from the main deck, because he whirls around in shock to look at the ship coming from the stern, instructing Mingi to take the wheel. His boots click on the deck as he makes his way over to the three of you, his one green eye narrowing in fury as he stares at the approaching dark shape. His anger radiates him like some sort of black miasma that’s poisonous to the touch, the very air around him almost acrid with sour rage.

“How dare he…” You captain seethes, before turning to Yeosang. “Yeosang, are you alright?”

But the navigator only continues to stare at the ship in shock, unresponsive to his captain except a mumbled ‘yeah, I’m fine’ that no one believes.

You’re confused as to why this ship seems to have such a massive psychological impact on Yeosang, but then San tugs on your hand lightly, his usually bright eyes grim.

“That’s the ship Yeosang’s father captains.”

Memories rush back to you, from that night you had decided to heal Yeosang with your very life force. An officer with a single, golden monocle, thin lips pulled into a permanent scowl, a white scar above his brow bone, golden patches on his shoulders.

Commander Kang. Captain of the Royal Navy ship the Black Crow. Yeosang’s father.

The man who’d abandoned his only son to bloodthirsty pirates and had left him for dead.

“Oh shit.” You mumble under your breath, realising the gravity of this situation now, how it not only crosses the physical boundaries but also the emotional and psychological. You take Yeosang’s hand in both of yours and clasp it tightly, hoping to offer some comfort, but he doesn’t seem to register it, eyes still fixed on the ship.

Then something catches your eye that makes your heart stop in your chest.

“Are they… are they seriously hoisting a white flag? A parley flag?” You spit out in shock, and your captain stares at the Black Crow, utterly furious at the sight and yet completely bewildered by this abrupt change of events from what he’s used to. A Royal Navy ship offering to parley with the Caribbean Sea’s most wanted pirates? That was wholly unheard of in the whole of maritime history.

“Are they mocking us?” You hear San growl under his breath, obviously incensed, but you must have gone a little crazy from the mixture of shock and terror, because an unsteady little giggle leaves your mouth, your hands trembling from both suspense and trepidation.

Your master glances at you, obviously concerned. “Chin Hae? Chin Hae, are you alright?”

Another near deranged chuckle spills from you as you shake your head, mind as blank as the parley flag being hoisted from the foremast.

“Oh no…” You begin, unsure what to say, every thought fleeing from your mind as the dark shape almost looms over you in your imagination. “It’s just that…”

Another uncontrollable laugh escapes you.

“Yunho needs to eat Wooyoung’s shoe now.”