#i was actually reading some articles recently about how someone had managed to bring back some previously extinct species-

[muk-it-up]

What do you mean when you say you don't have the means to take care of a lot of poison types? What special stuff do you need? ...Antidotes?

Antidotes and pecha berries are very important if your going to raise a poison type, yes, and i dont have the sort of income to be able afford that shit consistently. theres also the fact that quite a few poison types stink something fuckin awful, and i have big sensory issues that just cant deal with that all the time! no offense to poison types, still love them to death!!! Especially trubbish, the little baby guys have my heart but i can only stand to be near them with nose plugs :(

One day I'll get a good job, and get a suitable poison type to hang out with me and rocket, then ill be dead happy yippee

[eloriis]

TRAITOR - carlos sainz

- inspired by traitor | olivia rodrigo

in which . . y/n struggle with the pain of betrayal after a breakup when carlos quickly moves on with someone else, leaving her questioning their entire relationship and the promises he broke.

warnings : a lowkey toxic relationship if u squint ur eyes at a few sentences, ntg else i think?

notes : second fully written work! ‘heather’ didn’t really do as well as i hoped it would tbh :( but i hope this one does better 🤞🏼 and lexi, i’m sorry if i made you cry but ily my hype girl 🫶🏼

and for a person who usually hates angst, i seem to write them the best 😓

plsplspls don’t ask for a part 2 for fics that do not have any info about them being a series.

type : written ⋆ word count : 1.2k

brown guilty eyes and little white lies, yeah i played dumb, but i always knew

that you talked to her, maybe did even worse

i kept quiet so i could keep you

carlos’ big brown eyes were one of the prettiest ones i had ever seen in her entire life. no matter how common brown eyes were, his eyes would always be the ones i would look for in the crowd. i didn’t know the exact day when the eyes she knew she could always find comfort in suddenly became the ones i started avoiding. it all started with little white lies like “i can’t make it to the date tonight, i have to stay late for practice” or “i’m meeting with the boys tonight! don’t stay up late waiting for me”.

those texts never sat right in my heart; they sounded too fake, too scripted. i could never manage to go too deep into her own thoughts about what he actually might be doing with her while i was waiting for him to come back home.

and ain’t it funny

how you ran to her

the second we called it quits?

i could almost laugh through the pain while reading the new article about you and her being spotted by the paparazzi the day after we called finally ended all those years of being each other’s one and only.

and ain’t it funny

how you said you were friends?

now it sure as hell don’t look like it

he always said that they were just friends, that they were close due to a mutual friend. that’s what he told everyone who asked him about her. but all these recent pictures online don’t really make a good argument against them being a couple.

you betrayed me

and i know that you'll never feel sorry

for the way i hurt, yeah

you’d talk to her

when we were together

loved you at your worst

but that didn't matter

feeling betrayed wasn’t an emotion i was well versed in or had been anticipating to be in this life, clearly fate had other plans.

i kept hoping that i would maybe get a text from you, an apology for all those years of my life wasted on making sure you were okay when you were at your lowest and worst point of your life.

all those years wasted. all because you decided halfway that you wanted her and not me.

it took you two weeks

to go off and date her

guess you didn't cheat

but you're still a traitor

two weeks. that was all it took for you to move on from a relationship that lasted for years. everyone says that you guys look so cute together, maybe if you heard that enough before, you would have ended up with her earlier and not have been labelled a traitor in my heart.

now you bring her around

just to shut me down

show her off like she's a new trophy

we finally ran into each other at a bar almost three months after the breakup. the second you saw me, you pulled her by her waist and kissed her right in front of me, showing her off like she was a new trophy.

and i know if you were true

there’s no damn way that you

could fall in love with somebody that quickly

if you were as true to us as you claimed you were, i’m damn sure that there’s no way you could have actually been able to move on so quickly and fall in love with someone else.

ain’t it funny

all the twisted games

all the questions you used to avoid?

was whatever we had just some sick twisted game to you? one that you oh so badly had to play? all those questions that you always seemed to be too busy to answer suddenly came back to me, they seemed harmless at that time, if only i knew.

ain’t it funny?

remember i brought her up

and you told me i was paranoid

remember that one time i brought her name up during a conversation? how you called me paranoid and sick because of how i was villainising her, i had just asked you if she had to stay with us when she came to visit even though she has friends who live here.

you betrayed me

and i know that you'll never feel sorry

for the way i hurt, yeah

you’d talk to her

when we were together

loved you at your worst

but that didn't matter

you left my life without a second thought, and i know that you will never understand the pain of being the one to be left alone while the other moved on like none of it ever existed. you always wanted her in your life, even when i was right there. i stood by you through everything, through your lowest points, but it didn’t change anything in the end.

it took you two weeks

to go off and date her

guess you didn't cheat

but you're still a traitor

you really wasted no time jumping into her arms, as if what we had didn’t mean anything. maybe you weren’t unfaithful, but seeing the way you moved on so fast hurts the same.

god, I wish that you had thought this through

before i went and fell in love with you

when she's sleeping in the bed we made

don’t you dare forget about the way

i just wish that you had thought about what i would do after you decided that you were bored of me, atleast before i fell in love with you.

i want you to remember how we cuddled, cried, laughed, loved and cared in the same bed that she is now sleeping in.

you betrayed me

'cause i know that you'll never feel sorry

for the way i hurt, yeah

you’d talk to her

when we were together

you gave me your word

but that didn't matter

i realize now that you’ll never take responsibility for breaking my heart. you left me behind without a hint of remorse, as if my feelings were never real to you. even when you promised me forever, she was always there, lurking in the background. your words meant nothing in the end, just empty promises that you broke without a second glance.

it took you two weeks

to go off and date her

guess you didn't cheat

but you're still

you’re still a traitor

yeah, you're still a traitor

two weeks was all it took for you to forget us, to move on like i was nothing. you didn’t break the rules, but you broke my trust, and that’s just as cruel. no matter how much time passes, the sting of betrayal lingers. you might think you’re innocent, but deep down, we both know what you did.

god, i wish that you had thought this through

before i went and fell in love with you

if only you had thought this stupid thing throughout, maybe i wouldn’t be in my bed crying over how much loving you and your beautiful brown eyes had taken from me.

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x11 thoughts

For an episode that ends with a journalist Ted trusts but has (understandably) recently lied to warning Ted that he’s publishing an article about his panic attacks, it was fitting that this episode seemed entirely about what all of these characters choose to tell each other. And after most of a season of television that Jason Sudeikis has described as the season in which the characters go into their little caves to deal with things on their own, it turns out they are finally able to tell each other quite a lot.

Which is good because, um, wow, a lot is going to happen in the season finale of this show!

Thoughts on the things people tell each other behind the cut!

Roy and Keeley. I absolutely loved the moment during their photoshoot in which they bring up a lot of complicated emotional things and are clearly gutted (“gutted”? Who am I? A GBBO contestant who forgot to turn the oven on?) by what they’ve heard. We already know that Keeley and Roy are great at the kinds of moments they have before the shoot begins, in which Roy builds Keeley up and tells her she’s fucking amazing. From nearly the beginning of their relationship, they’ve supported each other and been each other’s biggest fans. But their relationship has gone on long enough that they’ve progressed from tentative arguments about space and individual needs into really needing to figure out what they mean to each other and how big their feelings are and what that means in relation to everything else. Watching these two confess about the uncomfortable kiss with Nate, the unexpectedly long conversation with Phoebe’s teacher, and—most painfully—the revelation that Jamie still loves Keeley didn’t feel like watching two people who are about to break up. (Although I could see them potentially needing space from each other to get clarity.) It felt like watching two people realize just how much they’d lose if they lost each other, which is an understandably scary feeling even—or especially—when you’re deeply in love but not entirely sure what the future holds. Not entirely sure what you’re capable of when you’ve never felt serious about someone in quite this way, and are realizing you have to take intentional actions to choose that relationship every single day. I’m excited to learn whether Roy and Keeley decide they need to solidify their relationship more (not necessarily an engagement, but maybe moving in together or making sure they’re both comfortable referring to the other as partner and telling people they’re in a committed relationship) or if things go in a different direction for a while.

Sharon and Ted. I’ve had this feeling of “Wow, Ted is going to feel so intense about how honest he’s been with Sharon and is going to end up getting really attached and transfer a lot of emotions onto the connection they have and that is stressful no matter how beneficial it has been for him to finally get therapy!” for a while now. And Sharon’s departure really brought that out and it was indeed stressful. But the amount of growth that’s happened for both of these characters is really stunningly and beautifully conveyed in this episode. Ted is genuinely angry she left without saying goodbye, and he doesn’t bury it some place deep inside him where it will fester for the next thirty years. He expresses his anger. (I also noticed he sweared—mildly—in front of her again, which is really a big tell for how much he has let his carefully-constructed persona relax around her.) He reads her letter even though he said he wasn’t going to, and he’s moved. I don’t think Ted has the words for his connection to Sharon beyond “we had a breakthrough,” but Sharon gets it, and is able to firmly assert a professional boundary by articulating her side of that breakthrough as an experience that has made her a better therapist. And is still able to offer Ted a different kind of closure by suggesting they go out before her train leaves. No matter how you feel about a patient/football manager seeing their therapist/team psychologist colleague socially, I appreciated this story because IMO it didn’t cross big lines but instead was about one final moment in this arc in which both Ted and Sharon saw each other clearly and modeled what it is to give someone what they need and to expect honesty and communication from them. I liked that Ted ends up being the one saying goodbye. (The mustache in the exclamation points!) I like that whether or not Sharon returns in any capacity (Sarah Niles is so wonderful that I hope she does, but I’m not sure), the goodbye these characters forge for themselves here is neither abandonment nor a new, more complicated invitation. It’s the end of a meaningful era, and although the work of healing is the work of a lifetime, it’s very beautiful to have this milestone.

Ted and Rebecca. So, maybe it’s just me, but it kinda feels like these two have a few li’l life things to catch up on?! (HAHHHHHaSdafgsdasdf!) I really adored their interactions in this episode. I maintain that Biscuits With The Boss has been happening this whole time (even when Ted’s apartment was in shambles, there’s biscuit evidence, and I feel like we’ve been seeing the biscuit boxes in Rebecca’s office pretty regularly too), even if it might have been more of a drive-by biscuit drop-off/feelings avoidance ritual. It was really lovely to see Ted on more even footing in Rebecca’s office, joking around until she tells him to shut up, just like the old days. And GOSH—for their 1x9 interaction in Ted’s office to be paralleled in this episode and for Ted to explicitly make note of the parallel in a way Rebecca hears and sees and understands?! MY HEART. In both of Rebecca’s confessions, she is not bringing good news but it is good and meaningful that she chooses to share with Ted. In both situations, Ted takes the moment in stride and offers acceptance equivalent to the gravity of what she has to confess. And in both situations, he’s not some kind of otherworldly saint, able to accept Rebecca no matter what because he’s unaffected by what she shares. He is affected. When he tells her about Sam, you can see a variety of emotions on his face. Rebecca is upset and Ted is calm, and even if I might have liked for him to try to talk about the risk the affair poses to the power dynamics on the team or any number of factors, I also really liked that he just accepts where she is, and—most importantly—does not offer her advice beyond examining herself and taking her own advice. A massive part of being in a relationship with another person (a close relationship of any nature) is figuring out how to support that person without necessarily having to be happy about every single thing they do. It’s so important that Ted connects what she’s just told him about Sam back to what she told him last season about her plot with the club. These both feel like truth bombs to him, and he is at least safe enough to make that clear. These are both things that impact him, things that shape how he sees her and maybe even how he sees himself. He cares about her and is capable of taking in this information; he has room for it. But it’s not something he takes lightly, and neither does she. See you next year.

Tumblr user chainofclovers and the TV show Ted Lasso. My brain is going wild thinking about all the ways the next “truth bomb” conversation could go in 3x11 or whatever. Maybe they go full consistent parallel and Rebecca confesses something else, this time about her and Ted or some other big future thing that impacts him as much or more as the other confessions have. (The same but different.) Maybe the tables turn and Ted has something to confess to her. While the 1x9 conversation ended in an embrace and the 2x11 conversation ended with a bit more physical distance (understandable given the current state of their relationship and the nature of the discussion), the verbal ending of both conversations involved voices moving into a sexier lower register while zooming in to talk specifically about their connection to each other, so I have to assume there will be some consistencies in s3 even if the circumstances will be completely different. I don’t really know where I’m going with this and I obviously will go insane if I sustain this level of anticipatory energy until Fall 2022 but I have a feeling my brain and heart are going to try!

Sam and Rebecca. I know there’s been a lot of criticism about whether this show is being at all realistic about the power dynamics and inevitable professional issues this relationship would create. On some level, I agree; I like that pretty much everyone who knows about the affair has been kind so far, but you can be kind and still ask someone to contend with reality. But I also think that in nearly every plot point on this show, the narrative is driven by how people feel about their circumstances first and foremost. (It’s why the whiteboard in the coaching office and the football commentators tell us more about how the actual football season is going from a points perspective than anyone else.) This episode reminded me how few people know about Sam and Rebecca, and how much their time together so far has been time spent in bed. The private sphere. I thought this episode really expertly brought the public sphere into it, not—thank goodness—through a humiliating exposure or harsh judgment but through an opportunity for Sam that illustrates not only all his potential to do great things but how much Rebecca’s professional position and personal feelings are in conflict with that. Could stand in the way of that. I don’t have a strong gut feeling about where this will go, but I do think Sam’s face in his final scene of this episode is telling. He started the episode wanting to see Rebecca (his most recent text to her was about wanting to connect), and Edwin’s arrival from Ghana really exploded his sense of what is possible for his life. If he’d arrived home to Rebecca sitting on his stoop prior to meeting Edwin, he’d have been delighted. Now he’s conflicted, and whatever decision he makes, he has to reckon with the reality that he cannot have everything he wants. No matter what. And Rebecca—she has taken Ted’s advice and is attempting to be honest about the fact that she can’t control Sam’s decisions but hopes he doesn’t go, and even saying that much feels so inappropriate. And I’m not sure how much she realizes about the inappropriateness of the position she’s putting him in, although maybe she’s getting there considering she exits the scene very quickly. I’ve honestly loved Rebecca’s arc this season. I think it’s realistic that she got obsessed with the intimacy she thought she could find in her phone. I think it’s realistic that her professional and personal ambitions are inappropriately linked. (They certainly were for Rupert. It’s been years since she’s known anything different; even if she’s done some significant recovery work to move on from her abusive marriage and figure out her own priorities, she’s got a long way to go.) I know there are people who will read this interaction between Rebecca and Sam as a totally un-self-aware thing on the part of “the show” or “the writers” but what I saw is two people who enjoyed being in bed together and now have to deal with the reality that they’re in two different places in their lives and that one has great professional power over the other. If that wasn’t in the show, I wouldn’t be able to see it or feel so strongly about it.

Edwin and Sam. I really enjoyed all the complexities of this interaction. Edwin is promising a future for Sam that doesn’t quite exist yet, though he has the financial means to make it happen. He offers this by constructing for Sam a Nigerian—and Ghanaian—experience unlike anything he’s found in London. Sam is amazed that this experience is here, and Edwin’s response is to explain to him that the experience is not here. Not really. The experience in Africa. Sam has of course connected to the other Nigerian players on the team, but this is something else entirely. I’m really curious if Sam is going to end up feeling that what Edwin has to offer is real or not. That sense of home and connection? So real. And so right that he would want to experience that homecoming and would want to be part of building that experience for others. But at the end of the day, he went to a museum full of actors and a pop-up restaurant full of “friends,” and is that constructed authenticity as a stand-in for a real homecoming more or less real than the home he’s building in Richmond? (With other players who stand in solidarity with him, and with well-meaning white coaches who say dumb stuff sometimes, and an a probably-doomed love interest, and a feeling that he should put chicken instead of goat in the jollof, and the ability to stand out as an incredible player on a rising team.)

Nate and everyone. But also Nate and no one. Nate’s story is so painful and I’m so anxious for next week’s episode. For a long time I’ve felt that a lot of Nate’s loyalties are with Richmond, and a lot of his ambitions are around having given so much to this place without getting a lot back, and having a strong feeling that he’s the answer to Richmond’s future. But now I’m not so sure; his ambitions have transferred into asking everyone he knows (except Ted, of course), if they want to be “the boss.” But Nate is all tactics and no communication. When he wants to suggest a new play to Ted, he hasn’t yet learned to read Ted’s language to learn that Ted is eager to hear what he has to say. And while Ted has been really unfortunately distracted about Nate and dismissive of him this season, he clearly respects Nate’s approach to football and was appreciative of the play. Nate just can’t hear that. The suit is such a great metaphor of all the things Nate is in too much pain to be able to hear clearly. Everyone digs at him for wearing the suit Ted bought him (including Will, who’s got to get little cuts in where he can, because he’s got to be sick of the way Nate treats him), but when he gets fed up his solution isn’t to go out on his own and find more clothes he likes; he asks Keeley to help him. And then crosses a major line with her...and no matter how kind she was about it, she was clearly not okay. Everything is going to blow up, and I’m so curious as to whether Nate will end up aligning himself with Rupert in some way or if he’s going to end up screwed over by Rupert and in turn try to screw over his colleagues even worse than he’s already done. Or try desperately to make amends even though it could be too late for some. Either way, I’m fully prepared to feel devastated. (And there’s no way I’m giving up on this character. If he’s able to learn, I truly believe he could end up seeking forgiveness and forging a happier existence for himself. Someday. Like in season 3 or something.)

Ted and Trent. Trent deciding to reveal his source to Ted is a huge deal, and I’m torn between so many emotions about this exposé. I’m glad it’s a Trent Crimm piece and not an Ernie Loundes piece. I’m glad that Trent made the decision to warn Ted and let him know that Nate is his source. I fear—but also hope—that this exposure will set off a chain reaction of Ted learning about some of the things he’s missed while suffering through a really bad bout with his dad-grief and panic disorder. The things Ted doesn’t know would devastate him. I wonder if Ted will want to figure out a way to make Nate feel heard and reconcile with him, and I wonder how that will be complicated if/when he realizes Nate has severely bullied Will, gets more details on how he mistreated Colin, etc. I wonder if Rebecca, whom Nate called a “shrew” right before she announced his promotion, will be in the position of having to ask Ted to fire him, or overriding Ted and doing it herself. So many questions! I have a feeling it’ll go in some wild yet very human-scaled, emotionally-nuanced direction, and I’ll be like “Oh my GOD!” but also like “Oh, of course.”

This VERY SERIOUS AND EMOTIONAL REVIEW has a major flaw, which is that none of the above conversations include mention of the absolute love letter to N*SYNC. Ted passionately explains how things should go while dancing ridiculously! Will turns on the music and starts gyrating! Roy nods supportively! Beard shouts the choreography like the Broadway choreographer of teaching grown men who play football how to dance like a boy band. Everyone is so incredibly proud when they nail it. I love them.

I cannot believe next week is the end. For now. I’m kind of looking forward to letting everything settle during the hiatus, but I’ve really loved the ride.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 34

Man these parts are getting harder and harder to churn out. A lot of plot points converging and real life ramping up. Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it. Also, Please let me know your thoughts. Your comments fuel me.

(Master Post)

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade surveyed the classroom. Her former classmates now her masked servants. It was fitting how they were all silent. Before, they listened to her because she told them exactly the things they wanted to hear, now they listened because she had power over them. It was kind of poetic in a way.

She looked across the classroom, she realized that there seemed to be more people missing than she initially realized.

“We are missing someone. Aside from Marinette, who is missing?”

The controlled classmates looked amongst themselves. Trying to figure out who was the one that was not in the class.

“Is it Chloé?” Miracular inquired, trying to answer her master’s request.

The akuma looked around.

“Huh… Oh yea, she isn’t here. Well she isn’t important. I was thinking someone else.” Masquerade answered. She looked to her most recently made akuma servant.

The Bubbler, the akumatized version of Nino stood motionless. As if he was not registering what was going on.

“Bubbler? Do you know who is missing?”

The multicolored akuma said nothing. Not even looking in the direction of the mask maiden.

“Bubbler! I order you to answer me!” She commanded with fiery rage.

The akuma turned to face his master, now responding.

“Adrien is missing.” The bubbler answered, his voice robotic and as emotive as a speak and spell.

“So, Adrien isn’t in the room. What a shame. I was planning on turning him into my handsome little knight.”

Masquerade thought for a moment.

Has Adrien been akumatized? Lila wasn’t sure she had ever seen or heard about him getting akumatized. She knew that the class had pretty much gotten hit at least once or twice at some point from what she had heard and read from the ladyblog. But if that goody-goody Marinette hadn’t been akumatized, Adrien likely hadn’t been akumatized either.

“Alright my servants! We have a new mission. I want you to lock this school down! No one is allowed in or out. Anyone you find, bring them to me. If they can be akumatized, then they are joining our cause.”

“Time breaker. Guard the perimeter outside of the school. Anyone outside of Ladybug and Chat noir trying to get in. Tag them, but only if they are suspicious of what’s going on. Stay hidden otherwise.”

“Timebreaker nodded and began skating out of the room in a rush.

“Horrificator, once Timebreaker is outside, seal all the exits in the main building.”

The masked monstress nodded and sped out of the room.

“Dark Cupid, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Miracular and Reflekta. I want you to split up check all of the rooms and bring me potential akumas.”

The five akuma nodded and made their way out the door.

“Gamer and Robostus. I want you to hack into the airwaves. I want access to every Electric device in Paris when I give you the signal. But make sure to be subtle. I don’t want anyone to know about us until I tell you.”

The two nod and start working to get that ready for her.

She focuses her attention to the bubble making akuma that was giving her problems earlier.

Considering how hard it was to break him down, it was understandable. She had saved him for last for a reason. Because he was the hardest one to crack.

He was a relatively calm individual, able to keep a level head. But even he had his weakness. His confidence. Once that was shaken, seeing his entire class taken, knowing his girlfriend was under her control, he couldn't resist another moment. In a way, it was the most satisfying charm on her bracelet.

“Now Bubbler, you are going to go and locate Marinette and Adrien for me. Put them in a bubble and bring them to me. Help that girlfriend of yours.”

The bubbler nodded yes despite severe shaking. Seems even now he is trying to resist the control of the mask.

“Troublesome, but it is only temporary. He will break soon enough.” Masquerade mused to herself.

She looked at the near empty room with contempt. This was hardly a place where she could exact her vengeance. It was so… lame. Though a thought occurs as she realized who she had left standing at attention without orders.

“Evillustrator, I have a special request for you.”

________________________________________________________

“What is this?” Chloé screeched. “My daddy bought me the best phone plan in the city. How can I not have service right now?!”

The nurse felt a chill run down her spine. Could the akuma block out phone signals? Is that why there is no attention being given to the school? How could they call for help? How would anyone know of the akuma attack? Would Ladybug and Chat noir be able to help them?

The nurse started to feel herself going pale, she was just supposed to be a school nurse. Worst thing she needed to deal with was a scraped knee or give a kid an ice pack. Now she has a woman that collapsed on the bed and an akuma that is somewhere in the school. She had just moved to Paris a few months ago. It was her dream to live in the city of love, get her career going, find a nice guy, and just live the good life. But no one told her that supervillain attacks would be so personally connected to her situation? She had heard about this crap in New York and in America. But Paris? It was too much. What if Ladybug and Chat noir didn’t fix everything? What if this was where her story ended. What if…

“Hey!”

The nurse turned to her attention to the voice. It was the brash blonde teen that was complaining.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Just a heads up, I am not taking care of you.” Chloé commented.

Angela felt her face heat up with annoyance.

“Listen you brat. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude. I have a woman that is out cold from exhaustion in a building with a hostile akuma.”

“Good, at least you aren’t going to faint. I don’t need any more whinny women fainting on me”

The nurse paused, did the girl say that just to help her not succumb to the grim situation?

Chloé started making her way to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“You already got your hands full with the annoying assistant. I need to make a call to daddy. So, I am going to head out the building and try there. Try not to get ripped apart by an akuma, I still need more ice when I get back.”

Angela blinked. This girl wasn’t scared of the akuma. She was actually going out to do something reasonable. If she could call for help, it would mean that this whole thing blows over.

“Okay, I’ll stay here. Be safe.”

“Yea whatever.”

Chloé headed out the door.

Angela felt a ghost of a smile grace her face.

‘Maybe that girl isn’t a complete brat after all.’

__________________________________________________

The shapeshifting sentimonster growled as it smacked the locker. It lost both primary targets. And worst of all, Ladybug appeared to make this even harder. Masquerade needed to hear about this.

“Master, Marinette and Adrien have escaped my sight.”

The sentimonster heard a sigh of disappointment from the other end.

“It is fine Simularé, They wont be able to escape the school anyway. They will be found soon enough. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise. Having them be the last targets will have them bare witness to how devasting it will all be.” Masquerade answered. “Any news on Ladybug and Chat noir?”

“That’s the other bad news. Ladybug arrived, I am assuming that’s how Marinette managed to escape, and ladybug also took Adrien away as well. No sign of chat noir. But if you know one is here, the other is likely soon to follow.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as masquerade mulled over the information she had received.

“Actually, that works out well for us. Meet up at my location, I have the other students out looking for them, I need your power for something more important.”

“Yes master.”

Simularé shifted back into its phantom form, moving quickly down the hallway to obey her master’s request.

Just as it left, Ladybug popped out of a nearby locker. Relieved it didn’t notice.

“That’s not good, Masquerade likely got everyone in the classroom.” The red heroine said aloud.

She activated her communicator and tried to contact chat noir. But there was no sound.

“Damn it. No signal. Lila likely cut the communication as soon as she realized it.?”

“No worries Buggaboo, I happen to be on site.” A voice called out.

Chat noir jumped out of another locker to reveal he was there.

Ladybug felt a bit of relief at her partner’s appearance. She could tell he felt the same. Better a situation with two heroes.

“Been here the whole time?” The spotted heroine asked her cat crimefighting comrade.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago, I figured something was up, so I decided to take a quick peek. Cat curiosity and all that.”

“And you assumed it was with Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“It seemed like a solid guess.”

“Considering the track record, that is reasonable.” Ladybug conceded.

“Ever wonder why it is always this school and never any of the other schools? Paris is a big city. You would think Hawkmoth would decide to branch out to the other schools in the city.” Chat noir inquired as they started walking down the hall.

“I assumed its just a coincidence.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe he has a kid that goes here. He is pretty old” Chat noir dissed.

“I can’t imagine anyone that would want to date Hawkmoth.” Ladybug joked.

“What about the blue lady? She seemed crazy enough.”

“And now that image is burned in my mind. Thanks kitty.” Ladybug sarcastically commented. “Despite the mental scarring, I am glad you got here. Seems a repeat offender got herself an upgrade in the akuma powers department.”

“Lila.”

“How did you know?”

“I was reading the ladyblog, Alya did great work on that article.” Chat noir praised. He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

“Right, kind of the reason I felt the need to keep an eye on this place. But sadly, I was too slow.” Ladybug responded a tad gloomy.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We will finish this akuma before lunch.”

Ladybug heard a footstep from the end of the hallway.

“Get down!”

Ladybug tackled the cat hero down. Just narrowly avoiding a neon pause symbol, which now suck on the wall.

“Looks like Lila has been busy.” Chat noir noted as he turned his face to the direction of the attacker.

Ladybug looked at the akuma. The white mask covering her friend’s face. Lady Wifi was back.

“Alya…”

The two heroes got into a fighting stance and prepared to take down this controlled akuma.

________________________________________________

The halls were empty and lifeless as the two visiting teens made their way cautiously down the halls.

“Oddly quiet in here.” The fencer commented. “What do you think Luka?”

“Well last time we entered a place with an akuma in it, it was brimming with armored minions. Maybe this akuma has more stealth?” The Musician commented. “So, I don’t think you will be fighting as directly as you are use to Kagami.”

Kagami nodded at that, not exactly happy or sad regarding that remark. Her plan was to see if she could help her friends get out of the building, grab her textbook, and get out. She wasn’t really that interested in fighting a superpowered foe at this moment in time.

The two ceased speaking when they heard approaching footsteps.

“Someone’s coming.” Luka noted.

The two duck into the nearest room.

The two stayed close to the door as they listened to the sound of the approaching figure.

Kagami dropped to the floor silently as to check and see if she could get a visual.

She could only see what appeared to be costume boots of a larger figure. Which made the expert fencer believe it was not friendly.

The figure stopped, looking at the door. The two teens felt their neck hairs stand on edge as they did their best not to make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure passed the door without checking. Once the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, they let out a sigh of relief.

“That was way too close for comfort.”

“Agreed. I would prefer a direct confrontation next time, much less nerve-racking. “

The two carefully open the door and exit the room.

“Seems we found the akuma.” Luka commented. “Now we just need to avoid it and.”

“You mean akumas.” Kagami corrected.

“Akumas?”

Kagami tilted the boys head to look in the same direction she was looking, and sure enough she saw a rather large rock like creature walking the halls.

“Oh… well that is bad.”

Kagami pushed him back into the room and closed the door. Locking it before the rock giant could notice them.

“I’m surprised.”

“By the fact there is an 8-foot-tall rock beast outside?”

“No, by the fact you didn’t try to fight it.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” Kagami replied flatly.

Luka raised a brow at the comment, unsure if the fencer was serious or not about fighting that thing if she had a foil.

“Is something wrong?” A third voice came from behind them.

The two teens turned around, preparing for the worst. Though they were relieved to see it was just an old janitor… in a Hawaiian shirt. Despite his odd dress, he did give off a kind aura. One of a trusting old grandpa.

They noticed that the room seemed to be a sort of teacher’s lounge, with a small counter with a sink and cabinets. As well as a fridge to keep food cold and stored. A place in the school where teachers would come to get a quick coffee or store their lunch.

“Oh good, you aren’t an akuma.” Luka sighed with relief.

“An akuma?” The old man asked.

“Yes, it is very dangerous out there right now. There are multiple villains outside. I would recommend staying put while we go out there and help handle things.” Kagami explained.

“Quite bold of you to go out there against those monsters.” The man responded.

“Don’t worry, we will be careful. We just need to make sure we can get as many people out as we can so Ladybug and Chat noir won’t need to worry.”

“Ah, how selfless of you. You both seem quite capable for ones so young.”

“You’re very kind, but we are just doing what we can. Our friends are out there and they need our help.”

Kagami goes to the door. Checking to ensure the coast is clear again.

The old man pats the musician’s shoulder.

“I am sure you two will figure a way to help your friends.”

“There are too many outside this room.” Kagami grumbled. If only I had a way to fight them.”

The mysterious janitor smiled.

“Say… I did happen to see Ladybug earlier.”

The two teens turned their attention to the old man.

“You did?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, she happened to drop something while rushing. Would you two be so kind as to return them to her when you see her.”

The two of them glance at each other and shrug. The old janitor might be senile.

“Sure… We can give it to her.” Luka assured the old man, trying to remain polite.

The old man moves to a closet, where out of view of the two teens, an elaborate chest with the symbol of the guardian’s decorates the top. He quickly gets two smaller boxes and closes the closet.

“Ah! Here they are.”

He hands the two a small box each. Their eyes go wide.

“They seemed important, so I didn’t want to just leave them on the floor. But I have a feeling you two will take good care of them.”

The two teens were engrossed by the boxes in their hands. They recognized them immediately. These were the boxes Ladybug used when handing out miraculous.

“Where did you find…?” Kagami tried to question, but noticed the old man was no longer there.

“He’s gone…”

“Actually, I am over here.”

The teens look in the opposite direction they were looking in order to see him at the end of the room getting a snack from the fridge.

The duo decided that maybe this old guy wasn’t all there after all and figured it would be best to go somewhere and utilize the ‘gift’ they were just given.

“Stay in the lounge where it’s safe okay?” Luka asked politely.

“Of course. I am not paid if I am not working.”

The two teens checked the door again, and once the coast was clear. They both slipped out of the room.

After he knew they were out of sight, the old man chuckled.

“The senile routine works every time.”

“Master, you really cut it close with that one.” A small turtle creature exclaimed as he popped out from the closet.

“The universe works in mysterious ways Wayzz. What are the odds that there would be an attack on the school the very day I decide to hide out as a janitor?”

“Considering the frequency of akuma attacks, very likely.”

“True, but how about running into two individuals that Marinette had picked to be heroes.” Fu followed up.

“That is quite a coincidence.”

The guardian pulled out his phone and noticed he didn’t have a signal.

“It seems I can’t get a signal to notify her of the reinforcements I sent her way. Likely it would be the same on her end. So, it is a good thing I acted in advance.”

Fu moved to the closet where he kept the miraculous.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling Ladybug and Chat noir will need all of the help they can get.

“Don’t worry master, I am sure Ladybug and Chat noir will be successful.

“Let us keep an eye on things. They might need another ally to turn the tide.

________________________________________________________

“I am guessing you are also familiar with what’s inside here?” Kagami inquired as the two stealthily moved in the hall.

“I may be familiar with it.” Luka commented.

Kagami contemplated the statement. She figured out the truth.

“Seems we both have used a miraculous then?”

“It appears we have. Though I am not sure Ladybug will be thrilled that someone knows I have helped her.”

“I understand the sentiment. Though lets simply agree to keep it between us.” Kagami answered. “Friends do keep secrets like that if I’m correct.”

Luka smiled at the comment.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Luka assured.

“As is yours.”

The two found the locker room and quickly moved inside.

“Coast is clear.”

The two opened the boxes and as they did two magical creatures appeared in front of them.

A floating creature with multiple spikes appeared in front of the fencer, while another floating creature that resembled a cobra stood in front of luka.

“It is a pleasure to see you again Mistress Kagami.”

“It’s been too long, Longg.” Kagami smiled. Happy to see her kwami friend.

“Hello Luka, itssss been a while.” The snake kwami greeted.

“Happy to see you too Sass.” Luka fist bumped his kwami.

The kwamis stop and turn to see the other kwami there.

“Does Ladybug know about this?” They both ask in unison.

“We will inform her after. Right now, there is a lot of danger.” Kagami exclaimed. “Ladybug needs our help.”

The two kwami nod and prepare to fight.

“Consssider us accomplissses.” Sass answered.

The two teens put on the miraculous.

“Sass! Scales Slither.”

“Longg! Bring the storm”

The two teens transform into their heroic alter egos.

Kagami shifting into the dragon miraculous hero Ryuuko, and Luka changing into the Snake hero Viperion.

The two stop to glance at the other.

“So, what should I call you.” The snake hero asked curiously.

“Call me Ryuuko. And what about you mister snake?”

“Viperion is what I am going with.”

“Fitting.”

“As is yours.”

The two give a nod of comradery before making their way out of the locker room. They had to go help Ladybug.

__________________________________________________

Ladybug dashed across the hallway, avoiding pause symbols being flung at her by the conniving akuma.

She slid underneath one of the symbols and preformed a daring slide kick to knock Lady Wifi off balance.

While she was unstable, Chat noir charged and used his baton to make contact with her white mask. Believing it was the obvious weak point.

“Got it!” Chat noir exclaimed triumphantly. The strike of the staff knocking Ladywifi a good several meters. Before lying flat on her back.

“Wow, that is a tough mask. I thought for sure that was the weak point.” Chat noir commented.

Lady Wifi stood up robotically.

“There must be a way to snap her out of it. Unless Hawkmoth is learning from his mistakes.” Ladybug hypothesized as she got up from the ground.

“Well I got nothing.” Chat noir shrugged.

Another set of footsteps approaching caught the hero’s attention. The recognized the multicolored bubble maker the moment they saw him.

“Nino… You too?” Chat noir said under his breath.

The Bubble maker used his bubble wand to summon two large bubbles to capture the heroes. Bringing back flashbacks of their first encounter with the bubble akuma.

Chat noir and Ladybug expertly slide between the gaps of the attack, resulting in Lady Wifi getting hit with the large bubbles and being sent flying into the wall via bubble prison.

Chat noir lunged at the Bubbler, his quick pounce pinning him down before he could attack.

“Maybe I can destroy his mask with…”

“Wait Chat noir!” Ladybug called out.

Chat noir paused.

“What if your cataclysm doesn’t free him?”

“And then I am left without the power before a recharge.”

“Exactly. We need to hold off on using our powers right now.”

Chat noir wanted to save his friend. But he knew his partner was right. They needed to conserve their powers before facing Lila.

The Bubbler managed to get the cat hero off of him with a burst of strength. Knocking Chat noir to the ground.

Lady Wifi had gotten free from the bubble attack and was now blocking the other entrance.

Ladybug and Chat noir moved back to back, Ladybug facing the ladyblogger turned mindless akuma slave and Chat noir facing the akumatized DJ.

“Any ideas, Buggaboo?”

“Seems they can’t adapt. They are pretty much mindless slaves. Which makes sense since Lila wouldn’t want them to think for themselves.”

“So you’re saying their movements are simple.”

“Which means they are exploitable.”

Chat noir felt relief watch over him. He knew Ladybug had a plan.

_____________________________________________________

“EWWWW!” Chloé screeched in disgust. The front entrance to the school had been covered in a pink slime.

She wiped her hand on the cleanest section of wall she could find. This was not her day.

“What is with this nasty gross akuma? First, I can’t call Daddy to come and pick me up. I can’t even post about it! How will Ladybug know to save me? Or better yet, get me the bee miraculous so I can help her save the day?”

Chloé decided to try another exit, since she had no plans of sticking around without knowing if she was going to be given a miraculous or not. Plus, she did say she would call for help, and doing that would make her look good in potential hero points.

As she was walking, she bumps into something in the middle of the hall. Which was bizzare since the hall was clear.

“Ouch, right on my bruise. What the hell is…”

Chloé felt her anger shift to fear when she watched as the empty hall now contained a familiar akuma.

“Sabrina?”

The akuma turned to her, her face covered with a white face mask.

“Eww. Your akuma form looks even tacker than before.”

“Take potential akuma to master.” The akumatized Sabrina stated in an emotionless tone. Repeating the order, she had been given.

“Oh no you don’t! Sabrina, I order you to listen to me!”

The akuma ignored the blonde’s command and slowly walked towards her.

“Sabrina… I am warning you. I am going to yell at you over this later if you don’t stop right now.”

Chloé started slowly backing away. She wasn’t sure of what to do.

“Listen… if you stop right now… I’ll uh… let you take a pick of one of my old sweaters.” Chloé bargained, not intending to let her pick one of the ones she actually liked.

Chloé felt her hand touch the sealed door, and knew she was at the end of the hall. She was boxed in.

“This is so unacceptable.” Chloé stated, preparing to get captured. But a flash of Red and Black came out of nowhere and kicked the akuma hard to the wall.

“Ladybug! I knew you would like save me!” Chloé jumped and hugged her savior.

“Im not ladybug.” The heroine spoke.”

Chloé released the hug as she examined who her savior was.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chloé had never bothered to learn the names of any of the other miraculous heroes. She sometimes forgets chat noir’s name.

“Ryuuko.” The dragon heroine stated calmly, almost regretting saving Chloé.

“Did Ladybug send you? Cause it would have been better if she got me to help.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore Chloé’s comment.

“Now we need to leave before she… Where did she go?” Looking at the dented locker that no longer had an akuma lying on the ground.

Suddenly the akuma popped out of nowhere about to strike from above with her tonfa and steal Ryuuko’s powers, but was stopped when a small harp smacked her face.

“She appears to have invisibility.” A voice called out.

The two turn to see the snake hero as he caught his harp on the rebound.

Chloé took a moment to look over the snake hero. She had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not Adrien cute, maybe she would start learning the names of the other heroes.

“Quick thinking Viperion.” Ryuuko thanked the snake teen.

“Just following your lead.” Viperion responded. The two giving eachother a respectful smile. They both seemed to have gotten used to working together.

The akuma got up. Its white face mask making the akuma’s expression unreadable. But its body language exuded rage.

“Seems we aren’t going anywhere until she is taken care of.” Ryuuko said as she stared down the akuma.

Viperion turned to chloé.

“You need to go and get to safety.”

“Okay!” Chloé says as she runs off.

“How come she didn’t give you any sass?”

“Because I already have him.”

Kagami had to admit that was a clever response.

“Not what I meant, but Chat noir would love that joke.”

“I will be sure to tell him it later.”

“Stick to playing guitar. You’re a better musician than comedian.”

Before they could get off anymore banter. The akuma went for another attack.

________________________________________________________

Simularé entered Ms.Bustier’s classroom.

“I am here.” The ghostly sentimonster announced.

“Excellent.”

The sentimonster looked up to see that the classroom it was expeciting to see had been altered into what appeared to be a rather glamourous throne room. The windows covered by white curtains with the design of an akuma in black. The platforms and stairs had been altered to be marble. And at the top, where Lila’s desk once was was now a golden throne akin to something one would see in a castle. Though despite the impressive change in the classroom it was still being designed. The akuma known as the evillustrator was still creating more furnishings for the room.

“Simulare, I have an order for you.” Masquerade stated as she sat on the new throne. Clearly confident in her position.

The sentimonster approached her master. Stopping only a few feet away.

“I want you to create a mirage over the school. Since Ladybug is already in the school. It would be best if you made sure no one notices whats happening here. I don’t need any additional heroes popping in yet. Let’s handle her before making things public.”

Simularé nodded.

“Understood. But what should we do if she…”

“I have everything under control. Just follow my orders.”

Simularé ceased her questioning.

“As you wish master.”

The sentimonster shifted into her Volpina form and headed out of the classroom.

“She is getting arrogant in her power. If things do go south, I will need to step in.” Simularé said to herself. But for now, she knew she had a role to play.

_____________________________________________________________

And that ends part 34.

Seems things are REALLY heating up. Will Viperion and Ryuuko be able to help Ladybug and Chat noir?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to get through to their brainwashed friends?

Will Masquerade's gambit be enough for her to get her vengeance?

Whats Simularé's deal?

Find out by staying tuned and sharing. Remember Reblogs help content creators and if you do enjoy my content, the support really does help

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Harry Potter

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Harry doesn’t get enough love.)

- You and Harry first meet at Hogwarts but he isn’t really aware of your existence until around fourth year when everyone else in the school turns their backs on him. 

- He’s making his way through the crowds of ‘Potter stinks’ buttons when he hears someone call his name. He almost doesn’t stop, expecting the same mocking he’d been receiving all week, but he does stop and there you are, giving him a small, kind smile and telling him that you “just wanted to wish him good luck in the tournament.”. 

“I-er, thanks.” He replies awkwardly, looking at you for another quick moment before nodding and quickly retreating. 

- A few days later, you were walking around the wooded areas of the school and just so happened to come across him sitting alone. You didn’t want to bother him; especially since you really didn’t know him and you sort of had a crush on the famous boy, but a twig snapped beneath your foot and he quickly glanced up at you, taking away your option of leaving before he saw you. 

- Giving a quick hello, apology, and excuse for interrupting him, you moved to walk away before you found yourself turning back and asking if he was alright. It didn’t take him long before he was explaining everything to you and; calmly, ranting about the situation. 

- You listen and give him a few words of encouragement before you find yourself walking back to Hogwarts with him, as though it were the most normal thing in the world. 

- Little by little, the two of you grow closer and become more comfortable with each other; even though he’s sort of forming a crush on you and gets easily flustered by you. 

- Probably unsurprisingly, he doesn’t just drop you when Hermione and, more so, Ron go back to being his friends. Instead, you’re welcomed into their little clique, particularly by Hermione who appreciates having another girl in the group and can immediately see that Harry has feelings for you; even if he stutteringly protests to it. 

- Funnily enough, initially, he doesn’t even think to ask you to the Yule ball until you’re sitting at breakfast one day and he looks at you and a light just goes off in his head. He’s just as nervous about asking you as he would be with anyone else; probably even more so considering the fact that he’s pretty much in love with you, but he manages to keep his cool a little better with you since you’re supposed to be his friend. 

“Erm, y/n? Would you like to go to the ball with me?” 

- When you happily agree, he gives you a “brilliant”, his heart racing and a small smile plastered across his lips. 

- Godric, the look on his face when he first saw you the day of the ball. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, his face turning a delicate shade of pink as you first took his arm and gave him a smile. He was so distracted by you that he hardly even noticed that he needed to start dancing with you, he only snapped out of it when you told him to take you by the waist. 

- It’s after the ball that he knows for sure that he’s in love with you, and if he’s able to triumph over dragons and defeat Lord Voldemort at the age of one then he can ask out the girl that he’s fallen for, right? Easier said than done.

- Harry is pretty awful with women. He’s awkward and shy and clumsy, and it’s adorable in retrospect; and in some other cases, but it’s not exactly beneficial to the evolution of your relationship. He keeps trying to confess, keeps wondering how he’s gonna do it, tries to do it but is interrupted in some way or just can’t bring himself to actually say what he wants to. 

- It isn’t until fifth year that he finally manages to do so. You’re both left alone in the room of requirement as everyone leaves after their most recent lesson. He walks over to you and the two of you talk. You ask him a few questions, make sure he’s alright with everything that’s happening and before you know it, you’re both drifting closer and kissing each other. 

- It’s soft and slow, and when you pull away, he’s got this dazed sort of look on his face that gives you butterflies. He gets a hold of himself as you go to grab your things and leave, calling out to you in a quick explosion of words, asking if you’d go out with him. 

- He has to repeat himself so that you can actually understand what he’d asked but once he does, a bright smile spreads across your face and his heart skips a beat as you agree. 

- Due to a certain frog-faced substitute headmaster, you can’t exactly express your feelings in public, but just knowing that you’re officially his girlfriend gives him a certain sense of comfort and reassurance that otherwise wouldn’t be there. 

- The girl of his dreams is finally his and he couldn’t be happier. 

- Harry, in general, just isn’t the type of person to be all over you while you’re out in public. He tends to save most of his affection for when you’re behind closed doors, mainly because he’s a bit shy and easily flustered; especially by you. 

- Given the fact that Harry was provided with nothing but negative attention throughout his entire childhood, he’s definitely going to be a bit awkward when it comes to affection. That being said: he loves when you give it to him and really starts to crave it after you first pay him special attention.

- Handholding. He’ll tentatively slip his hand into yours while you’re standing together or grip it tightly as you both excitedly run somewhere.

- He could genuinely hug you for hours if you let him.

- Gentle touches.

- Soft kisses.

- Quick kisses in the midst of danger or when he’s leaving to do something important.

- Kissing his scar. 

- Ruffling and playing with his consistently messy hair.

- Hair petting. He’ll usually stroke his hand down/through your hair as you kiss.

- Long, loving snogging sessions. Sometimes, you’ll pull off his glasses so that you can kiss him better and he just melts.

- He loves cuddling with you; it’s one of the things that really bring him comfort. You’ll usually be the little spoon whenever you do, he’ll bury his face in your hair and wrap his arms tight around you, not letting go until morning.

- Considering the fact that he has like zero experience with girls, he usually just calls you by your name since that’s what seems most natural to him.

- Flustering him whether you mean to or not; it’s usually quite easy to do since he’s so inexperienced with girls.

- Getting mini gifts. A piece of candy here, a little trinket there, things like that.

- Dates at the Three Broomsticks. He loves kissing you and tasting the butterbeer on your lips.

- Dancing together.

- Spending time alone in the room of requirements.

- Sneaking around all the unknown tunnels and rooms of Hogwarts with him.

- Him using the invisibility cloak to come see you and sneak the two of you out somewhere.

- Study dates.

- Him helping teach you spells and defensive magic. He likes seeing that look of glee on your face when you do something right, and having the excuse to hold and guide your hand/stand close to you.

- Watching his eyes widen in shock and a smile spread across his face when you do something impressive. He’s so proud of you.

- Awkwardly and shyly reading news articles written about the two of you. Your parents have quite the reaction when they find out you’re dating the boy wizard himself.

- Hagrid gushing over and teasing the two of you. He sometimes gets a little sentimental seeing the two of you together. He knew Harry when he was such a wee little thing and here he is, all grown up and in such a lovely little relationship.

- Cheering him on at Quidditch games regardless of what house you’re in. It makes him so happy to see you rooting for him.

- Endearing sarcasm. He can be a smartass when he wants to be.

- Attempting to write to him over the summer.

- Having him stay with you over the summer or at least letting him visit for some time once you hear how he’s treated by the Dursley’s.

- Running to hug him when you’re finally reunited at the beginning of the school year.

- Being teased by Malfoy. Harry has probably almost killed him a couple of times; only stopped by the fact that Ron was holding him back.

- Hermione and Ron giving the two of you looks.

- Becoming a part of the golden “trio” and having double dates with Ron and Hermione.

- Accompanying him on adventures and quests.

- When everything starts to turn to shit around you, he may try to break up with you in order to protect you. He loves you too much to risk you getting hurt because of him.

- Standing by him, even when things go wrong and other people desert him.

- Comforting him. Harry has gone through a lot and though he won’t admit it to most people, he needs a little support. You’re his rock and he couldn’t live without you.

- He always tries his best to comfort you, even though he usually has no idea how or if his plan will work. That being said, he always just seems to know how to cheer you up.

- He’s a pretty jealous person but he tries to hide it most of the time. He hates the thought; and sight, of you with other boys and gets a bit annoyed whenever he sees you with them. He’ll be a bit passive aggressive when you go over to him, saying he’s “brilliant” when you ask what’s wrong. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

- He’s always surprised whenever you actually get jealous over him but he sort of likes it. He feels bad that you’re upset and reassures you that he only loves you but he can’t deny that it feels nice to know that you care enough about him to be jealous.

- Overprotective. After everything that’s happened to him and the people around him, he watches over you like you’re the most precious thing on earth. He’d defend you with his life if he had to.

- Harry tends to give you a sort of silent treatment when he’s mad, usually before saying something passive aggressive or harsh when you don’t really acknowledge his behavior or go to leave him alone. You’ll most likely argue until the issue is solved or until he shuts you out, either doing so by walking away in a huff or causing you to leave by his lack of responses.

- Regardless of whether you were in the wrong or if he was, he’s most likely the one to approach you. If you were in the wrong, he’ll come up to you and make some comment, trying to prompt an apology; because that’s all he really wants.

- If he’s in the wrong, he’ll feel really guilty and keep staring over at you until he can’t take it and finally asks if you can talk. He’ll ask how you are before telling you that he’s sorry and that he knows he was wrong. After he does so, he’ll ask if you forgive him/if you guys can go back to normal, smiling and kissing your cheek when you agree.

- There's quite a few I love you’s in your relationship. He loves hearing you say it; even though it flusters him, and he just feels the need to let you know how much he cares about you; especially as you get older and he loses more people without being able to let them know how important they were to him.

- The two of you will have to go through some difficult situations but he knows he wants to be with you for the rest of his life. You just need to get through this rough patch and then you can have a perfect little life together.

[thevindicativevordan]

On Livewire

You know Leslie is probably the most popular and well known female Superman Rogue mainly because they use her so heavily in outside media.

Which makes sense given her debut in Superman: The Animated Series, but it still kind of fascinates me. They didn't bring her into comics continuity until 2006 apparently, with Gail Simone and John Byrne (Byrne of all the creators!) being the ones to finally fold her in. Even after they brought her in, they still have never given her that much attention or focus which is a disappointment for me frankly, because Livewire is honestly fantastic in Scott McCloud and later Mark Millar's Superman Adventures runs, and I would say with complete sincerity that those two are probably her best writers. "Millar writing a female character well?" you scoff at in disbelief. I know, I was shocked too! But she's funny, clever, and a huge pain in the ass for Supes. Reading how she was used there, and rewatching her STAS incarnation recently, really made a big realization for the character hit me like a lightning bolt (couldn't resist):

She's basically an evil superpowered Lois Lane! I know I can't have been the first one to realize that, although I haven't seen anyone else actually outright state it anywhere, but c'mon it's so obvious! She's a reporter of a sorts as well thanks to being a disc jockey, her debut in STAS even has her interviewing Lois and Clark! She's got strong opinions on Superman that conflict with the general opinion about him (Lois being pro-Superman when everyone else is more hostile towards him at first, Livewire being anti-Superman when everyone else has embraced him as their hero). She's rude and abrasive, and doesn't care if her opinions offend people, which sure does remind me of Lois at her meanest.

Livewire to me is an examination of what Lois would be like if she abandoned her morals or never really had them in the first place. Leslie doesn't care about the "truth" which is the big difference between her and Lois. Lois can be headstrong, willful, and outright rude, but it's all in service of her pursuit of higher ideals. Livewire doesn't care about that, she carries about getting people to pay attention to her, and getting the recognition and wealth she believes she's owed.

What I'd Do With Livewire

It wasn't until I had that big realization about Leslie that I figured out what role she should play with regards to Clark: She should be Clark's old college ex who was the one who got him into journalism in the first place.

Clark's college years are unexplored territory narratively, typically we jump from his childhood in Smallville right into his debut in Metropolis. Now I know Clark dated Lori that mermaid back in Pre-Crisis during his college years, and while that's a fun bit of trivia, it doesn't really add anything meaningful in the same way that I think Leslie and Clark dating could. So I'd rather go with Leslie because I think she makes for a better foil for Clark and because the two of them would benefit from having a deeper connection established, plus Leslie could get fleshed out as a character more.

I like the explanation that Clark chose journalism in part because it challenges him in ways his powers can't, but in the comics they've rarely bothered to explain how he chose that field in the first place. I would have meeting Leslie at college be that big moment where he starts to figure himself out. She's assertive and confident, and Clark is attracted to that for similar reasons he's attracted to Lois. Leslie would start out as an optimist and idealist in the same way Clark is, and the two would bond and go into journalism together, with Leslie being the one who really believes in the field initially. They'd both be big believers in the duty of the press to inform and the presses ability to shape public opinion, with Clark attracted to investigative journalism and Leslie attracted more to broadcast and digital journalism. They start to date and for a moment, Clark seriously wonders if this is the one.

The big break between them comes when Clark and Leslie go on a trip around the world during their senior year of college. That trip would be where both of them learn how crappy the world is. Clark always had some idea of how bad things were because of his powers, but the trip is where he really starts to realize that there is a real need for someone of his powers to step up, and that there are hard limits to just how much he can accomplish as a member of the press. That same realization is what shatters Leslie's idealism and optimism. She loses faith in the ability to make a difference, to punch through the wall of public indifference, and as a result she gives up that dream. Instead she decides that if you can't beat them, join them: she switches instead to telling the masses what the powers that be want them to hear in exchange for money, to saying whatever the masses will give her attention and prestige for, embracing tabloid journalism that prioritizes clicks and engagement over information. Ultimately it destroys the relationship between Leslie and Clark with her viewing him as a sap and him viewing her as a sellout.

I think that origin really would help flesh out her worldview and motivation a lot more. She's a former idealist who has been broken by the world in a similar way to Poison Ivy. Leslie thus acts as a foil to Clark and Lois in that she's someone who let the world rob her of her idealism and sold out on the truth in exchange for material success. She's what Clark or Lois could've been if they took Lex's offer to work for him, and they should recognize that to some degree. Clark should have conflicting feelings for her, not romantically that relationship is dead, but in terms of sometimes he wonders if he's just wasting his life trying to fight for truth and justice. So few people seem to care about those principles, why hold on so tight to them? Why not just look out for his own self-interest the way everyone else seems to? It's the refusal to give up even when it looks pointless that makes the two of them different, and makes Clark a hero and Livewire a villain.

How I'd Like Livewire To Operate

There's a lack of imagination in how Livewire is used on the comic side as I see it.

Like most Superman Rogues the typical Superman writer doesn't seem to have a clue what to do with her beyond generic "villain" stuff, but that does a disservice to what Livewire brings to the table. Livewire does want to fry Superman to a crisp, but that's not what her daily goal is to accomplish. More importantly, she wants respect and she wants money, and the way she gets both is not by trying to rob banks, it's by leaning into her background as a media personality combined with her new powers. Unleashing electric bolts is honestly the least impressive part of her powerset in terms of her ability to manipulate anything and everything technology.

The Internet? Livewire can crash the entire thing with ease, or restrict access to portions of it. She can do the reverse and smash through firewalls and encryption like it's made of paper. Imagine Livewire shutting off the power grid or causing it to explode, secretly using your "smart" tech to record your every move, uploading ransomware to every piece of technology in Metropolis, emptying the bank accounts of anyone who annoys her, or bringing Metropolis to it's knees thanks to the "City of Tomorrow" being a test ground for the Internet of Things, so everything is connected and thus easily manipulated. Smart cars crash into each other, elevators randomly drop, trains are unable to stop and simply accelerate onward unceasingly, plans attempting to land find their instruments on the fritz, anything and everything is Livewire's to control. But terrorism, while entertaining and occasionally profitable, isn't Livewire's main focus either.

One of my favorite Superman Adventures stories with her had Livewire manipulating TV broadcast signals so that any time there was a male news reporter on screen, the signal wouldn't come through. Stuff like that, where Livewire is making life hell for people in a way that isn't immediately life-threatening is what I envision as her day to day operations, but her bread and butter is fake news. What Livewire is REALLY good at doing is manipulating the public due to her journalism background plus her powers. She can make fake videos that look totally authentic, fake articles that seem to come from credible sources, fake voice recordings, she can make anyone appear to do or say anything through the Internet, and then she can upload that to the devices of every single person in Metropolis.

You can get stories about the mayor being framed for taking bribes, local activists cast as grifters, and supposed upstanding citizens such as Lois Lane and Clark Kent appearing to take orders from criminals like Intergang on what stories to run. Basically you lean into the journalism aspect for Livewire stories where Clark and Lois have to investigate to see whether what Livewire is putting out there is fake or legit, with peoples lives and reputations at stake (including frequently their own).

And when Superman and Livewire actually do clash physically? I don't care how it gets justified, Livewire simply being that powerful, her lightning being "special", she has the ability to manipulate Superman's bioelectric field, whatever: she can hurt him. When she hits Supes with lightning, it burns. It's painful as all hell. Livewire needs to be a threat and I'd like her to be treated as a powerhouse since I don't see a reason why that shouldn't be the case. Livewire is a really cool Rogue, there's a reason she's managed to keep getting used long after the DCAU ended. I hope the comics creators start utilizing her to her full potential.

[enjennie]

In The Limelight [chenle x reader]

Summary: Tutoring the CEO’s son, when you’re barely interested in business. And falling for him, when you knew nothing about love.

Genre: Fluff. Rich kid!Chenle Tutor!Reader

Warnings: None

a/n: not proofread! I’ve been in a slump lately ☹ my works haven’t been satisfying me but I hope you enjoy this! btw omg this is a reupload bc the first time... somehow, the paragraphs were jumbled up? 

 “Y/N, there are flowers on your desk,” your classmate gestures behind them to the classroom you were headed to before quickly passing by. You could only nod, a little taken aback by the sudden information you received. Flowers? As far as you know, Valentine’s had passed, so has white day and it’s definitely not your birthday.

But as you enter your classroom, the bundle of flowers catching your eyes, you knew one thing for sure was from who it was. As you approach your desk, you lift the thoughtful gift and inspect the small card attached to the string that tied it beautifully together. ZCH, it read in cursive.

 “How was your day?” Chenle’s voice can be heard from the other line, the smile on his face almost something you can hear along with it.

“It was great! Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They’re delightful,” you beamed, eyes landing at the arrangement that now sat on your vanity. Chenle chuckles, his laughter sending serotonin to run through your body.

“Not a problem, I’m glad you like them,”

“Though I’d appreciate if you gave them to me yourself,” you cheekily continued. Chenle could only smile, his face softening at your request. It was a simple request. Yet, he couldn’t do it.

When you notice the silence that follow, you immediately regret what you said. You desperately try to backtrack, sputtering out words. “Well- I mean-, It’s fine- Thank you, still! I love them,”

Chenle hums, “I know. Don’t worry. You’ll wait though… right? It won’t be long,”

You plant your feet to your carpeted floor and nod, even if he can’t see you. “Of course, Lele,”

 Zhong Chenle is the son of the most respected CEO of one of the biggest corporations in Shanghai the entire world. Chenle was the next in line to the company. After his brother had expressed how the business world didn’t interest him, the responsibility immediately fell into Chenle’s hands. And even if music was his love and calling, he had to let it go as to not disappoint his father.

Chenle had accepted it some time ago, going to school only for the degree so he could be eligible to own the business. He accepted the fact that he was going to be living the life his father made for him, not one he made for himself and it was the hardest pill to swallow. But things changed when he met you. There was more purpose to the things he does, it wasn’t just for nothing. Life had gone from monochromatic to colorful.

 “Miss, Y/N. Mr. Zhong just moved and he has to take this class to pass the semester. I trust you can fill him in with our module? Mr. Zhong, this is Miss. Y/N, she scored the highest during midterms,” your world economics professor had marched towards you after class, a tall boy following behind her. He looked just as oblivious as she did, to the sudden weight and pressure being put on you.

You merely nod and say a simple hello, not being able to say anything else. It wasn’t a question, this was a demand. Jeez if I was gonna teach your student I should get a portion of your pay. You thought bitterly. At the time, you were struggling to juggle a part-time job at a café while also maintaining your grades to keep your scholarship.

When your professor left you two, the boy kept his hands buried in his pockets. His clothes were semi-casual and his hair was styled nicely. Who the hell moves halfway through the year?

“So, Mr. Zhong-“ you take your books into your arms and lazily sling your bag over your shoulder, heading towards the door with him trailing behind you.

“Chenle-, You can call me Chenle,” he finally spoke, startling you a little with how cool and soft his voice is as opposed to his striking visual that intimidated you at first.

“Nice to meet you, Chenle,” you give him a smile.

You were gonna be around this guy for who knows how long, might as well try to be his friend. Maybe it’ll make the teaching less of a chore.

  “Wrong,” you huffed, marking his essay and adding in annotations. “Chenle, remember there is a specific way to start these essays and that’s by defining the terms you’re using,”

The boy sat opposite of you, arms crossed and back against the couch comfortably. You were in a café. The café you worked in, to be precise. Your schedule today overlapped with Chenle’s and as much as you didn’t want him to see you slaving around, you also couldn’t miss this paycheck at the café. You gave him an essay to write just to check on his phrasing and structure and left to buss some tables and serve orders. But when you came back, Chenle barely wrote anything and could care less about it.

“Can we not study today?” he whined.

You and Chenle have been meeting each other for a month now, and you’d soon learned about the type of boy he is, the life he led. In ways you didn’t expect to.

 The first time you found out about Chenle’s reputation was through the newspaper. No, not the school newspaper. Not even the local newspaper. But on the Wallstreet Journal, when you had to grab material from any recent article for a class. Chenle’s name floated along with the words ‘Young entrepreneur’ and their company’s name. You gasped so loud you had to excuse yourself from the library and leave in a hurry. That afternoon you smacked him on the shoulder with your thick world econ textbook.

“You’re from a family of business corporates and you’re learning world economics from someone who crammed the exam?” you exclaimed. He stared at you blankly, book in hand and pen in the other.

“And you don’t pay me!” you added. The fact that you’ve been tutoring someone as rich as Chenle just didn’t make sense to you. Why not go to a professional? Instead, he was here with a sleep deprived college student who sometimes mixes up business terms just because she couldn’t care any less. World Economics was a mandatory for you. You studied to pass, sadly.

“I could start paying you, name the price,” he said easily. But you shook your head.

“I didn’t mean it that way, sorry. I actually don’t care about the money,” You led him to the picnic bench with the table outside school grounds and propped your book on it along with your bag before taking out your bento box. “Just blows my mind how you won’t just pay for the classes. I don’t teach that well-” you continue.

“I like you, though,” Chenle calmly interjects. You look up at the boy, movements being halted by his bold statement.

“Pardon?” you felt the need to have him clarify what he said.  The boy leaned across the table, over your textbooks and notes. “I like you,” Chenle repeated himself, but the impact it had on you was just as powerful and hit you hard. Your heart was doing somersaults.

Chenle’s eyes grew thin as he smiled, backing away from you and sitting back down.

“So, chapter 12,” he starts flipping his book nonchalantly, leaving you out of breath with a heart hammering in your chest.

  “What do you mean not study today? You have an upcoming quiz with Mr. Byun this Friday and mind you, that man searches for wrongs, not rights,” you raised a finger at him, shaking it matter-of-factly.

“No, let me help you. Do you usually run the café on your own?” he closes the book and takes his essay from your hand. You’re left slack jawed.

“No. I- Johnny couldn’t come in today,” you explained. Suddenly, you were stammering as if explaining to your boss. At first, you were doubting if it was the same Chenle you were reading about in the articles. The boy you were tutoring didn’t come off as someone who would be running corporates and buying stocks or whatever. He was more laid back and relaxed. Aside from the way he dressed, nothing gave it away that he was indeed the CEO’s son. But there were times where you got a dominant feel from him. Times when he stood with much authority and didn’t accept no for an answer. In those moments, you realize how Chenle’s presence alone demanded respect.

Soon enough, you found yourself behind the counter with Chenle beside you tying the apron to himself. He looked cute, somehow. The way he smiled at customers and tried giving them their recommendations set butterflies run free in your stomach, you almost swooned. He didn’t get much studying done that day, but you surely did. You learned the fact that you falling slowly but surely with Zhong Chenle.

  There were two chapters you’re left to cover. In the short month and a half, you managed to teach Chenle six month’s worth of topics. Seeing him every other day made Chenle a familiar face to see around. Of course, you never actually got to see him around campus when you weren’t tutoring him. It left you wondering if you were actually teaching a ghost. But all doubts went away when the girls in your class started whispering about the cute boy waiting outside class. You quickly found out it was Chenle who they were talking about, and he was there for you. It was safe to say he wasn’t a ghost and is in fact real.

Carrying his book bag, he was stood against the wall with reading material under his arm.

“Chenle, we don’t have a schedule today,” you walk up to him, trying to avoid the dozen pairs of eyes that watched you. Chenle nodded, “Sorry, I won’t be here tomorrow. My father is bringing me on a business trip,” he states.

It wasn’t new for you to hear this coming from Chenle. Just the other week, his father brought him along to Japan for a company deal and Chenle came back with a little keychain souvenir for you. The same keychain dangled from your bag now as you both walked to the exit of the building. “Are you free?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t bring my book with me tod-“ you begin searching in your bag, even if you knew it wasn’t there. You were just trying to ignore the way his question made your heart jump.

“I mean… for dinner. Are you free for dinner?” he places a gentle hand on yours, stopping you from looking further in your bag. Chenle’s bold movements sometimes took him by surprise as well. He quickly retracts his hand, shoving it in his pockets. You let go of your bag, placing your hands on either side of you.

“Why?” you squinted at him suspiciously.

Chenle’s smile is small, but doesn’t go unnoticed by you as he turns his head towards his car then back down at you. “Listen, you don’t have to overanalyze this. I just want to treat you,”

  Chenle had thought about it a hundred times or more, before finally making a decision. Although you’ve been seeing each other in cafes and libraries for some time now, he didn’t want to consider those as dates. Sure, it gave him time to admire you up close and get to know you but he wanted you to know his true intentions. The only problem was boy, was he a wuss. And were you oh so dense!

Despite the subtle and not so subtle hints he’s given you, you remained clueless about his feelings. Unsure, confused and just downright oblivious. From the way he looked at you to how he vocally told you he liked you. You shoved everything under the rug, afraid that this boy was just toying around with you and having a laugh. He found it cute.

 It didn’t matter that you were in your school clothes, carrying about three thick books in your shoulder bag. He thought you looked stunning. You ate at a pizzeria just in town and he expressed how it tasted just like pizza from Italy. You said you wouldn’t know the difference since you’ve never been, and had a laugh about it.

The walk from his car to your apartment wasn’t that far, it’s just that he had to park a little further since there was no more space left in front. As you walked together, you noticed how the vibe and atmosphere between you two that developed as the night deepened, was different. More lax, comfortable. Like friends? You were both silent, until Chenle piped up.

“I lied, I didn’t just want to treat you,” he muttered, looking into the distance of your quiet street.

You turn your face towards him and you catch a glimpse of his face in the moonlight before looking away. He’d taken your bag from you and had it around his shoulder now. Him in his white polo shirt and brown suit jacket. He was always dressed like he was attending some kind of formal event. That’s Chenle for you. Mr. CEO’s son.

“Then?” you prompted him to continue.

Chenle averts his attention towards you as you finally reached the front of your apartment. You both stop walking, facing each other with the moon as your spotlight. You look at him from the light of the moon, it illuminated Chenle’s features perfectly. You would be able to inspect him when he studied, but each look at him made you breathless every time you had to look away. Much like right now.

“I wanted to take you out. Like, on a date,” Chenle confesses.

You could never wrap your head around how bold Chenle could be. Always leaving you flustered after saying such things, this boy was your weakness. But you didn’t give in. At least, you tried not to.

“Oh,” was your only response as you put your hands together, looking up at the tall boy. You hoped it wasn’t obvious that heat was rushing to your cheeks and ears by now. You could practically feel your blood flowing through your body, making you feel warm all over. “It was fun, I enjoyed it,” you shyly admit.

Chenle takes a step forward, raising his hand to palm your cheek gently. It’s the first time he’s ever gotten this close. “But I’m not sure you’re ready for my world yet,” his voice is lower, cool. Like wind.

You part your lips slightly, willing yourself to breathe. Your breath is unstable, shaky. This time, you take a step forward. “Are you underestimating me?” You don’t know where the surge of confidence came from, but you were thankful for it. The look of surprise is quickly melted into amusement as this was definitely the first time you ever made the second move to the dozens of times he’d left you flustered.

Chenle dips his head down close to your face. Eyes trained on each other, you tried to get yourself to breathe. He looked alluring, and you watch his eyes drop to your lips. Your head had become blank, nothing in mind. Just him. Chenle, and nothing else. His calm eyes, button nose and plump lips that you so very badly wanted to press against yours. “Are you sure?” he whispers.

You close the space between you and Chenle, lining your lips with his and connecting them together. The sensation almost sending you on your knees, you grab onto his shoulder for support and he holds you up by the waist, swiftly wrapping his strong arms around you. It felt like such a big relief, you almost sighed.

When you pulled away, Chenle’s smile comes into view as you fluttered your eyes open. He places his hand at the back of his head and scratches, suddenly becoming shy. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“You’re something else,” you giggle, smacking his arm before snatching your bag from his shoulder and turning on your heel to leave. You feel his hand against yours, forcing you to stop. “I’ll see you after my trip?” he asks.

“Same time… for class,” you reply, looking back at him with a cheeky smile. Chenle lets your hand go, a smitten smile on his face and a warm feeling in his chest. Zhong Chenle wished things were simpler. He wanted to give you the world.

 “It’s just a black tie party and my dad’s forcing me to come with a date,” he fixes himself in the mirror. He looked handsome, as always. In an all-black suit that fit him perfectly. Dressed like he had someplace to be, people to meet.

You sat on your bed behind him, arms folded and face scrunched up into a frown. A date. Probably someone from a rich family, better than you, his future spouse. They’d have perfect little babies together. All these bitter thoughts were flooding in your brain. When he notices your unusual quietness, Chenle turns to face you and gives you a goofy smile.

“What’s on your mind?” he approaches the bed, placing either hands on the side of you and leaning in close. Chenle could tell when you lied and knew exactly how to make you crack. You pull your knees to yourself and don’t bother hiding the scowl forming on your face. You couldn’t do anything about it. After several talks with Chenle, he explained how much pressure he gets from the media and his family. How dating even became a hassle because of how the pressure would then be shared with his partner.

For years, it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t find anyone that sparked his interest, and only had meaningless one night stands. He was fine with it, really. But all of that changed when he met you. For once, he wanted to go after something he loved. Not let it go, unlike what he did with his own passion for the sake of his father’s dream and business.

You shook your head, ridding the thoughts in your head and throwing them out. “Nothing. I know it’s just business. Message me when you get home?” you didn’t need to ask, but you still do. Chenle always kept you updated, whether if it was how the party he’s in has a chocolate fountain or if the bathrooms have automatic toilets. It was always bizarre hearing about his stories and taking a peek of what his world is like. The world of corporates. You weren’t ready for it, and Chenle knew.

 The secrecy of your relationship didn’t last very long, soon enough it’s got media questioning who Chenle was seeing and your status. After a few run-ins with the paparazzi, you both decided it would be best if your meetups were more discreet. Luckily, the cameras hadn’t captured your face yet, but it was only a matter of time until they did.

To top it all off, the news had spread across campus. Girls left and right claiming they were the one dating Chenle, it didn’t bother you too much. You had a scholarship to keep and a job to go to. Sometimes, you’d find a single rose and a letter waiting for you in class, or at the café. Of course, you and Chenle had wrapped up the tutorial classes and he was able to pass the exam. He was one step closer to his degree, but happy wasn’t the word to describe him.

He yearned to be with you, have you in his arms and spend hours together just like you used to before things got complicated. Chenle grew lonely without your presence as months passed. Nonetheless, you hung onto the string of hope that maybe one day people wouldn’t care so much. That you could take all the criticism, the heat.

 It was around 2am when your phone rang, disturbing your slumber. It was a Friday night and you took it upon yourself to catch up on some sleep after the horrendous exam week you just faced. Chenle had said goodnight hours ago. You wondered who could be calling at such an ungodly hour.

You pick up without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” Chenle’s voice filled your ear. Your eyes snap open and you shot up from your bed, pulling the phone away from your ear. Sure enough, it was him. Lele, with a little heart beside the name.

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask worriedly. His voice sounded slow and there was rustling behind him.

Chenle lets out a groan, and your heartbeat picks up its pace. You knew better than to think Chenle would cheat, but it was definitely worrying hearing this without any idea what was going on. “I miss you,” he breathed, voice raspy and low. You couldn’t keep the smile from appearing on your face. In the darkness of your room, your heart swelled with joy. “I miss you too, Chenle,” you whispered back.

Distinct voices come through the line, and you make it out to be Jeno and Jaemin. They’re bickering and you hear a guitar in the mix. “We’ll leave you here, Chenle,” Jaemin calls to his friend before you hear a door close.

“Why did you call?” you ask but you were happy that he did.

“Because I can’t be there with you. Even if it’s all I want right now,” he confessed. Your smile faltered and a hint of sadness falls upon your face as he continues. He was obviously drunk, but Chenle has always been really honest because he couldn’t lie. These days however, you haven’t had the time to talk much and you knew there was a lot on his mind. It hurt to know that it’s been this, and you couldn’t do much about it. “I just want to tell everyone about us. Screw what they think, YN. You’re perfect to me,”

Hearing his words gave you a glimmer of hope. You wished he was right, you wished you could believe it.

“Chenle-“ you sighed. “I want that too,”

There was a moment of silence before his voice came through again and you thought he’d passed out drunk already. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve sacrificed so much for my father, but you’re not going to be one of them,”

His words brought the smile back to your face, tears welling up in your eyes from how happy you were to hear them. It seemed at this moment that you could battle anything, because you were with Chenle. Everything would be alright. He was here and you are too, it’s the two of you against the world.

“Tomorrow, let’s make it official,” Chenle proposed.

You bring your hand up to your lips and bite on your nails, now fully awake more than ever. “Okay,” you agreed. Chenle grins, getting up from his bed. “I’m coming over,” you can hear him walking around now, keys jangling and shoes on his wooden floor.

“You can’t drive-“ you hurriedly try to stop him, keeping in mind his state.

“I don’t drive a Tesla for nothing,” he chuckles. “I’ll be there soon,” The outgoing beeping of the call followed afterwards as he ended the call. The realization hit you a moment later.

 The next day, you and Chenle arrived in school together. He stayed the night, carrying a change of clothes in his bag. For someone who was smack drunk, he sure did pack well.

From the moment you stepped out of his car, many students were around to watch. Exchanging whispers and staring, your cheeks set aflame when Chenle pulls you by the arm, your hands connecting between you and threading together naturally. It drew the attention of many onlookers and you chewed on your bottom lip, not used to the attention.

“They’re staring,” you whisper close to him.

“Let them,” He responds. Chenle tilts your head up to meet his gaze before planting a lingering kiss on your lips, confirming people’s already forming suspicions. “You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 9

Dabi X Reader , Bakugo X Reader

Words: 3214

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

***********************************************************************

You drank all day. Then took a nap, ate some pizza, and then continued to drink some more.

“Fuck Endeavor!” Dabi threw a pillow at the TV.

“Yeah fuck that guy! Small dick Energy!” You giggled at the sideways glare Dabi gave you.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about the size of my old man’s dick.” You and Dabi were lounging on the couch, your legs in his lap, empty beer bottles littering the coffee table. You were watching some trashy special on TV about Japans top heroes, and having fun roasting them all. Dabi chuckled as he rubbed circles into your calf. “I have to say… I didn’t think you’d still be conscious at this point. I had you pegged as a light weight.”

You snorted as you sat up to look at him. “Who the fuck you calling a… *burp* light weight?” You sat up too quickly and had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep the room from spinning. His hand came up to steady you and you leaned into his warmth. “I’ll have you know… I am a drinking queen!” You giggled and started singing Dancing Queen at the top of your lungs but replaced the word dancing with drinking.

He rolled his eyes at you before shoving you off of his lap and onto the floor. You landed with a loud thud, but you just continued to giggle. “Aren’t you a Siren? Isn’t your singing supposed to be… I don’t know…good?”

Gasping you held your hand to your chest in mock horror. “How dare you insult my singing. If I wanted, I’d have you on my knees in seconds.”

He smirked at you, “Wait, what does that even mean? Did you mean you’d have me on MY knees in seconds or you’d be on YOUR knees in seconds? Because those are two very different things.”

“UGH! You know what I meant!”

You gave him a pouty look to which he just chuckled in response. “I don’t think I do doll. Why don’t you show me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I refuse to fall for your perverted mind games. I’m too smart!”

Dabi got an evil glint in his eyes. “Too smart huh?” He pushed himself off the couch and held a hand out to you to help you stand up on wobbly legs. “You’ve made some bold claims tonight princess. You say you’re a drinking queen. You say your smarter than me. You said you could have me on my knees in seconds… I just don’t know if I believe you.”

You swayed a bit as you jabbed a finger into his chest. “Bring it on bacon bits. Let’s make it a competition.”

“Okay fine. But it’s only fun if we put something on the line. What are we wagering?” His hand started to travel down your side to grip your ass.

Slapping his hand away you stepped out of his reach. “Nothing sexual! Keep your hands to yourself.”

He watched as you tapped your chin in thought. Obviously you were taking this competition thing very seriously. You looked cute in your drunken state. Your hair was askew and your cheeks a rosy shade or red. Suddenly your eyes beamed, “I know! Truth or dare!”

“Uh what?” Dabi quirked an eyebrow at your antics. “Did you forget that we are adults?”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a buzz kill!” You rushed over to the kitchen and started pulling out cups and beer. “We used to do this at UA all the time! It’s so much fun, come on!”

Dabi groaned as he approached the table that you were currently setting up for beer pong. “Oh come on… I was hoping it could be sexual.” It was his turn to pout now. “We could always play a quick round of strip pong. What do ya say?”

You paused as you set up cups, “Hmm maybe later. I know as soon as my clothes start to come off you won’t want to play games anymore.” You gave him a taunting look, “At least not any innocent ones.”

He raised his hands up in defense, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am more than capable of keeping my hands to myself.”

You snorted as you set up the last cup. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

He took his spot on one side of the table. “I’ll tell you what… I’ll compromise. For every cup we make we have to answer a question. If I win, we move on to strip pong. If you win or if I can’t manage to keep my hands to myself, I’ll do whatever silly little punishment you can think of.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Sounds good to me.” You cracked you knuckles dramatically. “I hope you’re not a sore loser.” You were really confident for someone who was on the verge of passing out. But if you were being honest with yourself, you knew you were better at drinking games the drunker you were.

Dabi gave you a borderline evil smirk, “We’ll see how cocky you are when I make you play bare ass naked.” He threw a yellow ping pong pall at you, laughing as it smacked you in the face. “I’m sure there’s a some joke I could make about you liking balls in your face… bu-“

You tossed the ball and he watched as it sunk right in. One cup down, five more to go. His surprised eyes met your emotionless ones. You winked, “Drink up bitch.”

He scoffed as he yanked the ball out of the cup before downing it’s contents and flipping it upside down. “Alright… let’s get this over with…what are you gonna ask me?”

That was a good question. What were you going to ask him? You could only imagine the kind of secrets he had. Visions of all kinds of illegal acts and debaucheries crossed your mind. You were enjoying your little daydreams when he cleared his throat. “Any day princess…”

You tapped your chin, “Hmmm. Okay. Why did you leave the League?”

He groaned, “I thought you were gonna ask me something stupid like my favorite color… but no, of course you’d come out swinging.” His eyes looked a little nervous. “I technically never left, but I also was never really an official member. I’ve always done what I wanted. The only person I answer to is me.” His fists clenched, “But if you’re asking why I don’t really associate with them anymore… Well I may be a bad guy but even I have my limits.”

You knew that was probably all you were going to get when he squared his shoulder off and sunk a cup of his own. His eyes gleamed as he repeated your orders from earlier, “Drink up… bitch.” You stuck your tongue out at his before chugging your cup and loudly slamming it back onto the table. “Such attitude tonight? Makes me want to bend you over this table and-“

“Yeah yeah, bend me over the table and fuck me stupid… What’s your question?” Your cheeks flushed. From the embarrassment or the alcohol you weren’t sure.

He growled, “As soon as we finish this stupid game, I’m going to do just that you little brat.” His lips twitched into a brief smile. “So, I’ve been reading those really fun articles about you today and I noticed something… They never mention your hero name.. What is it?”

Your eyes grew cold and your arms came up to hug yourself. “I don’t have one.”

Dabi bristled at your short answer. “What do you mean you don’t have one. You graduated from UA, you worked at hero agency for a few years. Granted you were probably the only real hero in the entire building… but there’s no way you don’t have one.”

You shrugged, which earned you a glare. “Sorry, but I really don’t. When we picked names in school… Well I never really thought I’d actually graduate. Katsuki and Izuku had to talk me out of dropping out almost every other day. So, I didn’t take it seriously. After I got hired, they made it very clear the public would never know who I was. I was a spy. Spies don’t have hero names. They have code names. Mine was Helen.”

Dabi almost flinched at the amount of malice in your voice. Your happy mood disappearing fast. But his curiosity weighed heavy on him. “Why Helen?”

You tossed your ball and watched as it bounced off the table and into a cup. “That’s two questions… and that’s also two cups.” You wanted to change the subject, “My two questions are… Do you secretly like Shoto? And Why do you pretend that you don’t secretly love Shoto?”

“Ugh, Shoto’s a fucking brat.”

You strategically decided you were hot and removed the hoodie you had been wearing, leaving you in a tight tank top and a pair of his boxers. “Oh? I thought you liked brats?”

Dabi leaned on the table as he looked you up and down. “You’re playing a dangerous game there.”

“No… I’m playing beer pong. And in case you didn’t notice, I’m winning. Now answer the question.” You were having so much fun teasing him. You felt safe with an entire table in between the two of you. This was one of the first time the two of you had opened up to each other. Sure, it was because you were both drinking and only because you were playing a very juvenile game. But progress it progress.

He rolled his eyes at you as he gripped the ball in his had. “He’s my little brother… I don’t have to like him. I used to hate him actually. In my head he was the reason our dad was so awful to me. He was my replacement, the golden child.” He was quite for a little while. You could tell he didn’t really want to keep going. He was already more vulnerable then usual.

He knew if he wanted you to open up to him, he needed to offer the same courtesy. “Even now, I see the weird relationship they have and it pisses me off. My dad was awful to us, Shoto included. So, it makes me mad that he’s trying all of the sudden to make up for it, and even more mad that Shoto’s letting him.” He finished drinking his beer. “We’ve talked a lot recently and… at the end of the day he’s my baby brother. Sometimes I wonder if I had stuck around if things could have been different for him.” He finally made eye contact with you and sighed, “So to answer your question… I guess I like the kid a little bit.”

You squealed and clapped your hands. “I knew it! It’s almost impossible to not like him. He’s so adorable, and strong, and nice, and smart, and-“

“STOP! First you talk about my dad’s dick, and now you’re raving about how much you love my little brother… I’m literally right here?” His nose scrunched up in disgust. He shot his ball, it bounced off the rim of a cup and your hand was quick to swat it away. “FUCK! How did you even do that?”

“HA! No question for you. I’m too fast. My reflexes are too fast for you!” You giggled before chasing the ball that was now bouncing away towards the kitchen. You were already unsteady due to the alcohol but the second your socked feet hit the tile in the kitchen they slipped out from under you.

“Oof…” You landed hard on your ass. A few moments of silence passed before you rolled over and started laughing. You felt tears streaming down your cheeks and you clutched your stomach. You honestly could say you hadn’t laughed this hard in a long time.

You felt two strong hands lift you up from under your armpits. “Maybe we should call it a night soon. I have a feeling if I don’t stop you now, you’ll hate me tomorrow when your heads in a toilet.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes and laughed even harder. “I WIN!”

He picked you up and turned you to face him. “I know you’re drunk… but you still have three cups left before you win.”

“NoOo I win! You touched me! Your hands my contact with my armpits! Physical contact was made… I WIN!” You started poking him in the chest. “I win. I win. I win. You lose. I win.” You danced in a circle resulting in you falling into his chest.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, “That’s got to be cheating… You fucking wiped out on the kitchen floor. I still had questions I wanted to ask. This is bullshit.” His hand reached down and rubbed circles on the sore spot on your ass.

The alcohol was starting to hit you hard. You leaned into his warmth and could feel drunken slumber start to drag you under. “I’ll make you a deal. You can ask me one question. But you have to do the punishment I decide no matter what.”

He had no idea what you had planned and by the look in your eyes he probably wasn’t going to like it. “Fine. I’ll do it… Why Helen?”

You froze. You knew he was going to ask. You didn’t want to talk about it, but then again you knew he probably didn’t want to talk about his family. You were torn. You wanted to lean closer to him, to absorb his warmth, to let him hold you. But you also wanted to push him away, to stand on your own feet, to show you’re not weak.

His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, holding you to him, deciding for you. You took a shaky breath. “Well I don’t know how much Greek mythology you know… But there was a woman… Helen of Troy. She was supposedly the most beautiful woman in the whole world.” Dabi’s fingers ran through your hair encouraging you to continue. “She had powerful men fighting over her, on their knees begging for her love. She was the reason the Trojan War started. Most people think it was the Trojan horse that lead to victory over Troy… but in reality, it was her. She brought destruction to an entire country… just by being pretty.” You let out a long breath and felt some of the tension in your shoulders start to bleed out. “So, I was Helen. I was a pretty face that brought destruction to men.”

His hand rubbed up and down your spine. “Well they got one thing right… You are beautiful.”

A shaky chuckle left you as you gripped his shirt. “And if we’re being honest… You are more than capable of destroying anyone you wanted to. You’re just a badass, you are a beautiful badass and that’s nothing you should be ashamed of. Wear it like a badge of honor.”

Your next words were barely louder than a whisper, “I’ve done a lot of bad things.” He didn’t say anything, to which you were grateful. He just continued to rub your back. “I have no right to be mad about those articles… because I did those things.”

Dabi leaned away from to make you look at him. “It doesn’t matter what you did, because you did them with good intentions. I’ve done way worse and believe me when I say I did them all for the worst reasons possible.” His thumb brushed against your cheek. “They took advantage of you. They were the one’s giving the orders. They are the ones responsible, and they are the ones who will ultimately pay the price.”

You blinked back your tears. “I just feel so stupid. I believed so much in the hero system, I was so blind to what they were doing. How many of the people that I apprehended were innocent? How many of them just had interesting quirks they wanted to study? How many of them just didn’t agree with the system? How many voices did I silence?”

“You’ll drive yourself crazy if you think like that. People like us fell through the cracks and that’s not our fault.” You just nodded, done talking about it. There was nothing he could say at the moment that would make you feel better. Only time could fix this, if it could even be fixed at all. Dabi squeezed your cheeks together. “Now why don’t you tell me what this punishment is, because you looked really excited about it earlier.”

You nodded and pushed away from him, wiping your tears. “Yeah. Okay…” You took a deep breath pushing the painful thoughts out of your mind. “I want you… to prank call… Shoto…”

He immediately wanted to deny you. To say hell no. But you had just had a raw moment with him, and he had promised. “… Fine.”

He pulled out his phone and scrolled until he saw Experiment #4 and hit dial. What was he supposed to say? He had never done something like this before. Was he supposed to block his number? It was really late would his brother even answer?

You poked his shoulder and mouthed, “Put it on speaker.”

He rolled his eyes but complied. A few rings later and Shoto’s tired voice interrupted his thoughts. “…uh…hello?”

Dabi began to panic. The only thing he could think of were the immature jokes he’d heard when hanging out with Twice. “Your mammas so stupid… When I told her she lost her mind. She went looking for it…”

You lost it. You bent over in silent laughter. Not only at his ridiculous joke, but the look on his face was priceless.

“… My mamma? We have the same mother. It’s a little insensitive to say she lost her mind Touya. Wait is this code? Are you guys okay? Cough if you need help.” You herd rustling in the background. “Izuku get up I think Y/n and my brother need help. He said my mamma’s so stupid, when he told her she lost her mind, she went looking for it. I think it’s code.”

You couldn’t help it you let out a loud laugh, Shoto was as clueless as ever. Izuku took the phone from his boyfriend. “Sounds like a dumb joke to me babe. Hey Dabi… did y/n put you up to this?”

Something about hearing Izuku’s serious voice made Dabi uncomfortable. He sounded like an angry father who had just been woken up but his dumb children. “Uh… yeah…”

“Great tell her she’s hilarious, and next time she wants to wake someone up at three in the morning to call Kacchan.”

The line went dead and Dabi scoffed, “He really is an idiot I swear.”

“As far as I’m *hiccup* concerned all you Todoroki’s are.” You yawned and stretched. Your eye lids were getting heavy.

Dabi scooped you up and you immediately nuzzled into his shoulder. “One for your room, twice for mine.” You had never been in his bed until last night, but his bed was considerably more comfortable than your own. You held up two fingers. “Anything my drunk destroyer of men wants.”

*********************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602 @pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop @bakubby99

[96thdayofrage]

What you tell a child will vary based on the age of the child, their level of interest, and their race and/or yours may be a factor. One thing that is essential is that they are told the truth. Unfortunately, there are many different stories being told about the same events which mean parents may have to step up their game regarding the facts of slavery. If you’re going to say a schoolbook is wrong, you better be able to back it up.

In 1977, the mini-series Roots captivated the nation and started a conversation about slavery that may never be duplicated. There were only three basic television networks at the time, the show’s 130–140 million viewers equaled more than half of the US population at the time of 221 million. Each of the eight episodes still ranks among the top 100 most-watched episodes of all time. If someone managed to avoid watching Roots, it was almost impossible to avoid discussions of the show. People in America were talking about slavery.

I had a chance to re-watch Roots recently which is available on-demand on my cable subscriber. Knowing what I now know about slavery, it’s amazing how much information was slipped into the show, including the ever-changing laws that targeted slaves, even after they were freed. It also captured the real fear of white people during and after the Nat Turner rebellion.

Before I take this conversation in a whole different direction, many of the commenters mentioned watching documentaries or movies as a family and discussing them afterward. In addition to Roots, one might consider the PBS Series: Slavery and the Making of America, 500 Years Later, Roots of Resistance: The Story of the Underground Railroad, or Over the River… Life of Lydia Marie Child, Abolitionist for Freedom. There are also several children’s books about slavery including If You Lived When There Was Slavery in America, Henry’s Freedom Box, and All Different Now: Juneteenth, the First Day of Freedom. Many of the children's books have YouTube videos with the author reading the book aloud. Questions from the children should be expected, your ability to answer them may vary. If you don’t know the answer, don’t be afraid to say that, but commit to trying to find the answer and discuss your plan to do so.

There were responders who indicated they would say nothing at all to their children. I respectfully submit that children will learn something from somewhere about slavery and those parents might wish they had more involvement. There is a lot of rewriting of history even today. Many purported historians make excuses for slavery and praise the Founders for their foresight which led to the end of slavery in America. There is a part of the Constitution; Article 1, Section 9: Clause 1, which establishes that the US could not eliminate the International Slave Trade for at least twenty years.

Article 1, Section 9: Clause 1

Clause 1. The Migration or Importation of such Persons as any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit…

They say it was a plan to eventually phase out slavery. I interpret it as something far more diabolical which combines protectionism with the forced breeding of domestic slaves in order to generate higher profits on their sale. If you’re going to talk to children about slavery be sure to get it right. If you choose never to speak to your children about slavery, you risk allowing them to be misinformed and led astray.

In 1808, America banned the import of slaves from Africa and the West Indies. The impact on actual slavery in America…

medium.com

“Those Who Do Not Learn History Are Doomed To Repeat It.”

There was a response from a white woman with two black grandchildren ages 13, and 11. She said, “They are getting to the age where they need to know these things, but I’m lost.” In her case, I think I’d ask the children’s parent(s) if available what their plans were to discuss slavery and try to reach some consensus. Going alone without their involvement could create a bad situation which ultimately affects everyone’s relationship. Assuming you go forward; I’d begin with a discussion about what they have experienced at their ages specific to being black. You, as well as black parents and grandparents, will likely have to cover many topics including the civil rights movement, African civilizations, and black hair. Don’t be overwhelmed by what you don’t know, a trip to the library or a targeted Internet search may prove extremely helpful. I would suggest going at their pace, not force-feeding them if they’re not ready. and preparing for the possibility that the discussion never really ends. I’m still learning as will you and them.

There’s another category for which I got no responses, though I have hundreds of white Facebook friends. What do white people tell their white children about slavery? They shouldn’t assume they’ll be taught everything they need to know in school. They should take an interest in the curriculum and find out what is being taught, discuss with their children what they’re learning. Look for opportunities to supplement their learning, providing them the same books, videos, and documentaries I’ve suggested to black parents. Pay attention to their discussion about children and teachers of other races. Look for teachable moments about equality, study the histories of various cultures beyond your own.

Slavery was horrific, but it’s part of America’s past and shouldn’t be forgotten or dismissed. In an unrelated discussion about events during slave times, I was told (via the Internet), “that was 200 years ago, who cares?” In another discussion with a white co-worker about a race massacre that had occurred not 10 miles from where we were standing, he said, “Why would you want to bring any of that up? It will just create problems.” There are many who would like slavery to be a forgotten part of America’s history. This country was literally built by slaves and that contribution has never formally been acknowledged or compensated. Even today, the equivalent of slave labor is utilized in several nations, some of which benefits Americans who look the other way. The more we educate our own population, the better we can make the world. It all begins with teaching the children.

[asterocky]

Hi, I actually had some more questions, lol. Thank you for answering the last one about Eunwoo and his relationship with the boys.

What happened to Moonbin, he took some time off and it seems like people don’t think it was a shoulder injury, but rather that he needed some time off for his mental health?

I was also wondering what happened to their last management or team? I saw Eunwoo speaking out again about how they were treated? What did their last team do or not do? I don’t remember his exact words but it was something to do with their company.

hello there again!! ^^ it was my pleasure, feel free to shoot any other questions you might have. sorry i'm a bit late with this answer, i was thinking through what to say.

regarding moonbin's hiatus.

i believe that fantagio never said anything concrete - they just said moonbin went to a check up and the doctors advised him to rest and get treatment. so no particular health concern was mentioned, so i can't give you a concrete answer. the mental health narrative might have come from some vlives moonbin did, since he was very vulnerable and obviously not in a good place mentally before blue flame era (like this one or the general conversations they had during their gateway era win vlive). i wish i could give you a more concrete answer, but unfortunately i was not too active since i work full time, so there might have been something concrete said by moonbin about his mental health after blue flame era once he came back. since the fantagio issues happened, astro developed a habit of going to aroha whenever something is bothering them. hopefully someone else can give a more concrete answer.

fantagio issues.

there's a lot to discuss here. i will try to shorten the entire situation the best to my ability but i did follow the subject closely and if you want to read into it more, feel free to go into eliot's fantagio update tag (i suggest starting from this post if you want to get into details). meanwhile i roughly summarized the situation below.

so fantagio music is a subsidiary of fantagio entertainment. and fantagio entertainment a few years back was owned by this chinese corporation jc group (they were the majority shareholders, which means that they had the majority vote during shareholder meetings). one day allegations came out in news portals that:

the board of fantagio dismissed the co-ceo and founder of fantagio na byeongjun. wei jie, who was the ceo of jc group, was instated as the new ceo;

the corporation credit cards were taken away from the staffs, so most of the activities fantagio's actors and idols had were funded out of the pocket of the staffs and idols. rumors circulated that astro and weki meki ended up paying for their fans' meals during isac out of pocket, too;

jc group was pooling the money fantagio made to an unrelated hong kong company also owned by the group;

fantagio organized a crisis meeting and settled with 9 demands for jc group, which included reinstatement of the former ceo amongst other things, as most worried that since jc group is pooling whatever fantagio makes into a hong kong company, that jc group will start selling their artists for profit.

(this is why moonbin always says he's the oldest standing fantagio member, idols and staffs included - the ceo was not reinstated and many staff, including astro's manager, left the company)

so staffs were fired and replaced by jc group (they have nothing to de with entertainment btw) staff. it should be noted that wei jie became ceo of fantagio entertainment, but not fantagio music. at the time, fantagio music's ceo was woo youngseung, so aside from the company card limitations, the artists weren't affected that much. however, all hell broke loose when jc group fired woo youngseun and wei jie (i believe) became the ceo. that was the exact moment fantagio music started operating illegally, as based on south koren laws, the ceo of an operating entertainment company has to have a certain entertainment license and ceratin experience. the new ceo was not registered in the korean entertainment management association, which was also a problem. at this point there was no choice but to stop all idols' and actors' activities because everyone that was under contract with fantagio entertainment, which did not have the required licence, would also be considered to be operating illegally. basically everyone under fantagio was forced into a hiatus because of all of the shit jc group caused because of their incompetence.

then the korean entertainment management association reached out to an illegally operating fantagio and gave them 45 days to appoint a new ceo with the relative registration and experience or fantagio will be removed from the association entirely. with all that happening, actors started going through court to terminate their contracts with fantagio. in general there were many uncertainties with the artists under the company, some news portals going so far as to say that "fantagio has no future".

for a while, fantagio (jc group) threatened their actors who went against them (terminating contracts) with court and ignored any korean entertainment association complaints and lied to press that they WERE operating legally. however, many contradicting articles came our and entertainment associations publicly announced that memebers of the associations (which is basically most of the korean entertainment industry) are banning fantagio and basically no one within the association will be working with them.

but then karma came to bite in the ass and the main vilan wei jie who was the ceo was arrested for illegal funding activities (which probably includes the before-mentioned cash pool in an unrelated hong kong company situation). also, the former kbs ceo was appointed as a new fantagio music ceo. a bit later the second main vilan of this story - jc group - sold their ownership of fantagio back to this other shareholder l&a holdings (i believe, don't quote me on this)! which was highly celebrated because fantagio became it's own company again. later fantagio did have a dispute with l&a holdings, but it was nothing too major.

as of today the company is fairly stable and doing well, the largest sources of income being ong seongwoo, astro and cha eunwoo. recently, there has been a dismissal of the management once more and a new management for fantagio music was instated. everyone had war flashbacks for a moment got scared. but it turns out the new management seems eager to put their people out there, as right after the announcement of the new management, astro announced their astro x aroha festival, comeback and all members finally had their own schedules to attend to. and right now all of astro seem to be working on something as the management cleared their schedules, also we got astro zone - to put it simply, we had not seen so much activity from astro for a while so this new management brings hope. also, fantagio was said to be getting more funding and expanding more into acting industries (i think they released more shares, too, which usually means expansion of the company), the financials of fantagio for 2020 have been the best in comparison to the last three years. so as of right now, we can be happy it's in the past and look forward to what fantagio can bring in the future.

also, it's worth mentioning that astro stayed really strong throughout the period and whenever we expressed worry about them, they always tried to calm us down and say that everything is okay and they're doing well. however, once the whole thing was over astro came out with always you, lyrics of which express just how NOT OKAY astro were throughout the fantagio issues and how hard it was behind closed doors, the song dedicated to the fandom. they were very emotional and open about what happened, a lot of fans left throughout the period (as they were on hiatus for a year basically) and astro ended up thanking the ones that stayed with them. there's also this video from astro star light where each member shares a little bit about what went through their minds, from uncertanties, fright and feeling thrown out.

[coolnerdyandalone]

on FIMQ deleting her content and COVID-19 (and a gratuitous larry fic rec)

@freddiesmyqueen first of all queen i hope you’re doing ok although i know some shit must have gone down for you to delete/private list all your videos and i hope you know that the larry community supports you always. Also your talent is TRULY unmatched in the world of video editing - no one makes edits quite like you and that’s why your loss impacts the community so profoundly. 

secondly, i know at least i was hoping to turn to rewatching all of FIMQ’s videos while i’m being quarantined due to the coronavirus. and i’m willing to bet that i’m not the only one. this is a scary time and for people like me who feel profoundly alone right now, the only way for me to calm my nerves and fears is by reverting to the content and community that helped me feel not so alone when i was in middle and high school. For me, that looks like watching FIMQ videos and reading my favorite larry fanfics (which i will also link below).  because of this i thought it might be helpful to repost some links that were posted by @bluemoonlarryandkaylor for a signal boost (if my teeny-tiny account can be called a signal boost). 

link to a google drive with FIMQ videos: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1ONwfLOd_IYvAL5OUDqDb_LLgQsDpd9il

link to an acct with some FIMQ re-uploads: https://www.youtube.com/user/Joana3961/videos

link to FIMQ vids with spanish subtitles: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIouodFhArMkQhOHxv2t2NgxTwl6KvXAT

and now if you want to look at some good old fashioned larry fics that are my ABSOLUTE faves and could 100% be actual novels/movies, keep reading:

And Then A Bit** by @infinitelymint aka the best fanfic ever written (basically larry fakes a relationship for publicity with each other and it could be cannon if you really wanted to hope upon hopes): https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415272/chapters/2972746 (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

Escapade** by @haydolce aka the Jack McQueen fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034197/chapters/9071932 (146k)

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

California Sold** by @isthatyoularry​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157680/chapters/11877494 (123k)

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

Bring Your Body Baby (I Could Bring You Fame) by @theboyfriendstagram : https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263903/chapters/9652944 (84k)

Eighteen year old Harry Styles just graduated high school and landed a summer job as a waterboy for his favorite football team. His job description is simple: be ready to hand water and towels to players if needed. That didn’t seem to include Louis Tomlinson though, a twenty-three year old, recently transferred Paris Saint-German player, who seems to like making Harry’s job much more difficult than it has to be.

OR  

A self-indulgent AU that takes place over the summer of 2015. 18 year old Harry hates pining after people he can't have, and 23 year old footballer Louis loves flirting with people even though it never means anything.

Pull Me Under** by @zarah5 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/870766/chapters/1672104 (140k)

AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.) 

You You You** by @isthatyoularry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/846690/chapters/1617212 (137k)

“Infamous boybander leaves club together with unknown,” read the headline. Underneath were pictures of a boy with dark curls, green eyes and very tight pants. They both studied the article for a moment, reading it through quickly. “Is that…?” Louis frowned. That guy almost looked exactly like... "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" "Louis," Niall said, looking absolutely fucked over. "You just fucked the most wanted guy on earth. You just fucked Harry Styles of One Direction."

Or, the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

Like an Endless Summer by @horsegirlharry : https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365494/chapters/25442085 (87k)

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

Three French Hems by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064493 (20k)

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

The Dead of July aka the Marvel Fic by @whimsicule  : https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594570/chapters/7928520 (117k)

Being an Avenger means continuing to be Captain America and smiling and being honorable for the public and Harry does his best. But it doesn’t give him time to figure out who he is supposed to be once he takes off his uniform and puts the shield to the side. Just being Harry had always involved Louis, and Harry fears he doesn’t know how to exist without him.

or: Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Gods & Monsters by  @mizzwilde : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871 (201k)

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Love is a Rebellious Bird aka LIARB aka the orchestra fic aka dont hum bolero by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162438/chapters/2362331 (135k)

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

My English Love Affair** by @isthatyoularry​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873962 (19k)

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by @haydolce : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799241/chapters/13366498 (113k)

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Wild and Unruly aka the Cowboy fic by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews : https://archiveofourown.org/works/2723093/chapters/6099611 (124k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December)** by @greenfeelings​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051122/chapters/34892210 (128k)

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

the boys of fall** aka the american football fic by @godgavemelou​ : https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443037 (21k)

“And everyone, this is Harry Styles. He’s going to be our starting quarterback this year.”

Louis looks at him, the tall and lanky Harry Styles, and takes it all in. He’s got hair to his shoulders that curls at the ends, tattoos all down his arms, and a bright smile on his face as the team cheers him on. He’s lean and fit, and absolutely beautiful, and Louis hates him to the core.

OR an american football au where the boys play for the university of tennessee, and harry and louis quite hate each other.

** indicates that the fic is a log-in required fic, but if you want the pdf i can send it to you

[ruthiswriting]

heart line

mp100 | serirei, reigen arataka, serizawa katsuya, kageyama ‘mob’ shigeo, AU, 6k | on ao3

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his. 

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

this is pretty fluffy, only real tw is some self deprecating depression thoughts from seri.

-

One day, when he comes into work, Serizawa sees Reigen industriously spreading a new poster on the wall, next to the monthly specials.

“Oi, Serizawa,” Reigen says, head half turning, first in acknowledgment, then in focused interest. “Come help me finish putting up this poster— I can’t get the last corner. Or well, I could,” he allows, stepping away from the wall as Serizawa approaches, “but I don’t want to get the step ladder out of the storage closet, it’s always such a damn pain to dig it out. You had really good timing, you know…”

Serizawa comes in at the same time every day, so he hardly thinks it counts as good timing, but he doesn’t say anything. Reigen passes over a thumbtack that he’s been holding between his teeth— a terrible habit, one that always makes Serizawa’s stomach start doing awful twists when he sees him doing it— and Serizawa takes it, stepping to the wall.

The poster’s half up already, it’s really just this one corner that’s a bit awkward to get to behind one of Reigen’s potted plants. He smooths the corner out, hesitant, and carefully pushes the tack in.

“A little up,” Reigen directs from behind him, and even though Serizawa can’t see him he can feel the way Reigen’s head tilts to look under Serizawa’s stretched arm. “It needs to be straightened out— ah, the other side’s falling out, can you get that too? Serizawa! The bookshelf, watch it.”

After a few more tweaks, Serizawa finally manages to pin it to the wall in a way that satisfies Reigen. Serizawa runs two fingers over the slightly wrinkled corner— he can’t remember if it was already slightly bent, and he swallows nervously. But if Reigen notices, he doesn’t say anything, humming appreciatively. “Right. This’ll be good, people will walk in and see it with the monthly specials.” He stops, hands drumming on his hips. “Unless it should go on the far wall, while they’re sitting during the consultation? It works well as an add on, so maybe if they see it there it’ll drive more sales…”

Serizawa’s slowly processing the actual contents of the poster as Reigen hems and haws to himself. The center of the poster’s occupied with a giant stock photo hand, with arrows helpfully pointing to different creases and hills in the flat palm. A nauseating array of colors pinwheel around it, making it difficult to look away from once your gaze has drifted to it. PALM READINGS, the banner across the top screams out. LEARN ABOUT YOUR LIFE, LOVE, AND FORTUNE. Then, explosions of price points decorate the bottom.

Belatedly, he realizes he saw Reigen working on the poster yesterday during a slow hour in the office— slowly dragging together clip art in a way that he found appealing. Serizawa had avoided asking questions, since Reigen would then want his opinion on the poster, and Serizawa didn’t have the slightest clue about anything to do with design. Now, he could actually understand the poster for what it was.

“No, better to leave it here,” Reigen decides, bringing Serizawa out of his reverie. “Now, I’ve just got to add it to the website.” He sighs, scratching his cheek. “Damn builder’s always so tedious to fiddle with.”

“I didn’t know you could read palms, Reigen-san,” Serizawa says, still staring at the poster.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I read a couple articles about it over the weekend,” Reigen says, starting back to his desk. Then he half turns back, adding, “when you get to my level, it’s easy to pick up this kind of stuff, you know— it’s good to buff out your skills, too. Sort of…” He spins a hand in the air as he thinks. “Expanding your resume.”

Serizawa nods. This makes sense to him. To Serizawa, Reigen’s never had much of a recognizable aura— or really, he thinks privately, any recognizable ability at all. But he has a very long list of clients, successful exorcisms, and the attention of the most powerful psychic that Serizawa knows, besides maybe the president. Not to mention the entirety of CLAW’s former 7th Division’s admiration and respect. All of those people can’t be wrong, Serizawa reasons, so it must just be something that he’s missing. Serizawa misses a lot of things. And as Reigen’s repeatedly told him, his powers are just more spiritual, so him picking up a new ability with some light reading seems perfectly reasonable. “One of my classmates talk about learning coding a lot, since that’s good to have on a resume,” he says. “So it’s kind of like that, maybe.”

“Well,” Reigen pulls a face as he drops into his desk chair. “That’s a different kind of resume.” He swivels to his computer. “While I’m updating the website, Serizawa, can you look at the client list for the day?”

Serizawa hastens to look at the digital calendar that Reigen’s set up on his phone. “There’s a consultation in the morning, at ten,” he says. “Two massages in the afternoon… An exorcism at four.” Serizawa will be gone by then. Kageyama will be assisting with that exorcism— Reigen’s marked that on the calendar too, although Serizawa’s not sure Mob’s once looked at the calendar Reigen constantly refers to.

Reigen’s practically rattling the keyboard with the force of his typing. “Plenty of down time today, then,” he said. “I’ll be able to get this set up no problem.”

“Reigen-san,” Serizawa begins, awkward. “Should I…” Reigen’s stopped his punitive typing to stare at him, which always makes Serizawa’s words begin to stutter. He clears his throat and tries again. “To better assist the clients. Should I learn about palmistry, too?”

He doesn’t know why he asks. Most of the questions he asks feel pointless as soon as he says them, and this one’s ridiculousness is heightened by the way Reigen frowns. “If you want to,” he says, tone implying he’s not sure why Serizawa would. “I was planning on handling it, since it’s mostly interfacing with the clients, and you’re still getting comfortable there, but I wouldn’t stop you.”

Serizawa can’t stop the way his shoulders sink, and hurriedly, Reigen adds, “you’re doing fine, Serizawa— I’m glad you’ve got the initiative to ask about it. But I know you’re busy with your studies, so I didn’t want to take up your time unnecessarily. You’re already a great asset to the business.”

Again, Serizawa wants to protest, to say that really he should be doing so much more for Reigen than brewing tea and exorcising stray ghosts. But he shouldn’t argue with his boss, so he just nods, swallowing all of his words.

It only takes a few days for someone to take Reigen up on new special— a jittery looking college student with spectacles twice the size of her eyes. She comes about a necklace that she inherited from her recently deceased grandmother. Serizawa can’t see anything on it, and Reigen smoothly steps in to handle it. As he shreds rock salt over it and kept up a stream of gentle questions about her grandmother, the girl’s eyes roams over the wall, and she asks about the palm reading. Within seconds, Reigen has the lights dimmed, incense candles in Serizawa’s hands that are apparently his responsibility to light.

Reigen sits on the edge of his seat, face serious as he looks down into her upturned palm. She watches him with wide eyes. “It’s not so much that your palms determine your fate,” he explains to her, voice taking on a knowing, mystic quality. “It’s more that they’re a microcosm of reality… The big’s encapsulated in the small.” He draws one of his fingers along a crease in her fingers, barely a ghosting pressure.

As Serizawa struggles with the candles, the match in his hand finally catches, and the light blooms across her face. The beginning of a blush is striping across her nose.

“This is your head line,” Reigen says. Then his finger moves across another web. “Your heart line. Your fate line. And your life line.” For this last designation, his finger curves across the base of her thumb and comes to rest against her wrist.

“The life line,” she says, eyes wide. “I heard once that if you have a short life line, that means that you’ll die young.”

Discreetly, Serizawa peeks at his own palm, but he can’t track what any of the mess of creases are supposed to be when transposed onto his own hand. “Not necessarily,” Reigen says, shaking his head. “Your life line has more to do with your vitality. If it’s short or shallow, that’s not necessarily bad, but it might mean you need to make a change.” Reigen’s mouth draws into a frown. “…Have you been feeling disconnected from the people around you?”

“That’s exactly it,” she says, voice a relieved rush. “It’s been so hard, ever my grandmother died…”

The conversation streams on past Serizawa. He watches as Reigen gives her advice, her hand still resting comfortably between Reigen’s long fingers.

The palm readings only happen occasionally, but Reigen seems satisfied enough with their performance— like he said, it’s a nice add on. But on days when someone asks for one, they cling to Serizawa’s mind the entire train ride to his night classes.

Regardless of Serizawa’s perception of Reigen’s aura, he proves himself as a natural when he sits down with a client for a palm reading. No matter what he says, they always gasp in shock at how accurately Reigen’s pinned down their life with just a few sentences. Then, he’s immediately pinwheeling into advice on how best to fix their relationships, their jobs, their life.

He doesn’t like it. The idea that, just by looking at his hands, someone can accurately judge everything inside of him. Reigen never says anything bad about the clients, of course, but he’s sure that he has to see it. All of Serizawa’s mistakes are surely reflected in the creases of his hand— and he’s made a lot of mistakes.

Serizawa spends a lot of time staring at his hands on the train. They’re square in shape, with short, blocked off fingers, and a tangled mess of lines and mounds— what Reigen calls the bumps of flesh on the client’s hands. He doesn’t know what any of it means. He doesn’t think it could be anything good.

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

The train rumbles under his feet, and hurriedly Serizawa tucks his free hand under his armpit. Like if it hand is out of his sight, the obsessive thought might be too. It doesn’t stop his eyes from ghosting over everyone else’s hands, that all surely say much better things about them than Serizawa’s.

He’s not doing a good job of not thinking about the hands.

Mainly, he keeps thinking about Reigen’s, which doesn’t bode well for Serizawa’s attempts at professionalism.

Serizawa realized fairly early on that his feelings for Reigen exceeded the typical respect one should have for an employer. It even went past the gratitude that one should have for someone who saved Serizawa’s life— because genuinely, Serizawa thinks that Reigen saved his life by giving him this job, when Serizawa didn’t even have a high school education or any practical experience beyond being a reformed terrorist. Even if Serizawa’s managed to stop referring to every manual of business practice as inarguable law, enough of them reiterated the extreme inappropriateness of workplace relationships that Serizawa figured it was a rule he should stick with. Their cautions at power imbalances, lack of professionalism, and the inevitability of messy breakups bang around in Serizawa’s mind every time he looks at Reigen.

Of course, it’s not like Reigen would want anything to do with Serizawa even without these restrictions. Reigen’s a good, helpful person, and he saw that Serizawa was in a bad spot, and wanted to do something about it. That was all. So, it’s up to Serizawa to draw a professional boundary. If he maintains a distance, that’s better for both of them— Reigen won’t have to deal with Serizawa’s messy, inappropriate feelings, and Serizawa won’t get hurt.

But the palm readings make that so much harder than necessary.

Reigen has nice hands, and he takes full advantage of them in every moment. They accent every word that Reigen ever speaks, making his case for him before he’s even begun a sentence. And when Reigen’s hands are making an energetic arc across the room, Serizawa keeps finding his mind going back to the dim office— the candles flickering in the dark, the sweet heady scent of incense. Reigen’s hands comfortably enveloping his hands.

Not his hands, really. It’s only Serizawa’s hands in his flushed, distracted imagination. He wishes, very desperately, that Reigen wasn’t so dedicated to the atmosphere of his services, but if he’s being honest with himself, Serizawa probably would have the same problem if Reigen conducted palmistry under the boring office lights.

It’s just Serizawa’s embarrassing personal problem. It’s something he has to deal with on his own. Another misguided crush on his employer— except he’s so sure that Reigen would let him down gently it burns.

It’s a slow day in the office when Reigen says, tone casual, “Serizawa, let me read your palm.”

Serizawa’s pen jags across the paper. He’s doing homework, which he always feels guilty for, even though Reigen’s repeatedly told him it’s fine, even offering to help him with any assignments he’s having trouble with. Now, he’s punished for slacking on the job by way of an unfortunate ink splatter obscuring a section of his notes. Serizawa feels a static charge draw up around his ears, and he takes a deep breath as he settles the pen against the page. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Serizawa says.

“Why not?” Reigen’s half out of his chair before he’s distracted by a loose set of papers about to escape his desk. He pins them down with a half full mug of tea, then continues his circuit around the desk. “We don’t have a client until later this afternoon, and it’ll be fun— enlightening, even. It’s a good team building exercise.”

He’s pretty sure Reigen just wants to put off the paperwork that he’s been complaining about the whole morning. It’s given him too much time to let his eyes drift across the room and watch Serizawa, probably monitoring any possible mistakes in his work. The palmistry poster’s right behind Serizawa’s head at his desk, so maybe that’s what made him think of it. Regardless, Serizawa does not want Reigen to be enlightened by anything about Serizawa. He clenches his hands into fists and sticks them under the desk, like maybe Reigen will forget about it if he can’t see them.

All the excuses collecting in his brain don’t make it to his mouth in time, and Reigen’s leaning against Serizawa’s desk. “Come on, Serizawa,” he entreats him, voice wheedling. “Don’t you ever unwind? It’s not bad to have a little fun when it’s slow.”

Serizawa can’t think of something less fun than his crush learning all of his secret and not-so-secret inadequacies while holding his hand. Plus, he’s sure that there’s something better both of them could be doing— that’s another thing the self help books harp on, that you can always find something to do to improve your workplace. But he’s not good at telling Reigen no. And so, in a matter of seconds, Reigen’s setting up the office as Serizawa watches, arms locked at his side.

“You don’t have to waste the incense candles,” Serizawa mumbles as Reigen energetically lights a match.

“It’s not a waste,” Reigen says firmly. “Anyway, I do my best readings when there’s a proper atmosphere.”

Since there’s no way to get out of this, besides maybe running straight out of the office and never coming back, Serizawa sits down at the table where Reigen always ushers their clients and waits. Reigen draws the blinds shut and then sits across from him, wiggling forward in his chair.

Reigen’s thighs sandwich the low table between them, pressing close enough for their knees to touch. Even though he’d dreaded the low lighting before, Serizawa’s abruptly grateful for the fact that Reigen can’t see the way his face heats in the dark.

And then, Reigen’s hands are taking his.

His hands are cool, maybe even a little clammy. They rest calmly against Serizawa’s over-hot skin, and Serizawa’s sure Reigen can feel the way that his pulse is rampaging in his wrist. Even before the palm reading’s begun, Serizawa’s hands apparently have the ability to betray him. He tries to swallow his nerves, again, force it all down. He can control himself, even if he’s feeling scared and lovesick. He’s not the person that he used to be.

Serizawa’s reminding himself of all of this, when Reigen says, very seriously, voice a low murmur, “you’ve got nice hands, you know.”

“What?” Serizawa blurts. “No, I don’t.” And then he flinches, immediately berating himself for contradicting Reigen.

Reigen’s eyebrows rise up, vanishing under his bangs. “Sure you do,” he says, insistent. And then, he turns Serizawa’s palm flat, running one electric finger around the circumference. “Square palm— short fingers. You’ve got earth hands. Means you’re reliable, Serizawa.”

Even though his brain is buzzing with this much prolonged contact— Serizawa’s not exactly had a lot of people spend extended time touching his hands, much less Reigen touching his hands— this sentence manages to drag him a little closer to reality again. Reigen just meant that comment in the context of palmistry, of course. He’s probably said similar things to his clients, even if Serizawa can’t exactly remember him saying them in this moment. He breathes.

After waiting long enough to realize that Serizawa’s not going to say anything in response, Reigen returns to tracing the lines of his hands. “Look here,” he murmurs, moving one finger down the center of his palm. “You’ve got a pretty pronounced fate line.”

And Serizawa knows, immediately, that that can’t be right. He’s heard enough of Reigen’s explanations to his clients to have learned that a deep fate line means you have control over your life— that outside actors don’t control your fate. Serizawa can’t think of something less likely to be applied to him. He feels his face sink, watching Reigen’s hand move, back and forth, over his own.

Reigen’s lying to him. He probably doesn’t mean it in a bad way. He probably wants to boost Serizawa’s abysmal self image, because Reigen’s good hearted like that. But it stings that he’d tell Serizawa falsehoods just to make him feel better, against something that demonstrably isn’t true. It calls into question every other good thing Reigen’s said about him.

“Aren’t you going to ask what that means?” Reigen’s eyes move up to look at Serizawa, burning holes in him.

Serizawa sucks in a breath that ghosts over his teeth. “Reigen-san…” He swallows, throat clicking. Every noise he makes suddenly feels so loud and over important when they sitting this close, without even the hum of fluorescent lights to drown it out. “I don’t really know if that makes sense, from what I’ve heard you say to the clients.”

Reigen’s eyebrows work together. “Your fate line can change over the course of your life, you know,” he says slowly. “Just like how you can change. It’s just a reflection of you.”

Serizawa lets his hand drop— it’s only Reigen’s interlaced fingers against the back of his hand that keeps his hand from knocking against the table. “I don’t know,” he mumbles. “I don’t know, if I’ve changed enough to justify that.”

“You’ve made a lot of changes,” Reigen says, still insistently not letting go of his hand. His fingers interlace into a cradle, and Serizawa can feel the press of Reigen’s index finger on one knuckle. “You’re taking classes. You chose to leave a harmful situation, when it would’ve been easier to stay. You’re working here. Serizawa, you’re the one that’s taking charge of your life now.”

But even that’s a falsehood. Serizawa knows, deep in his bones, that he never would have left CLAW on his own. He never would have been able to see past the circumference of his umbrella and his own starry infatuation. The only reason he was able to leave at all was because of Kageyama, forcing him out of the fantasy he was living in, and Reigen, offering him a lifeline when Serizawa was sitting in the absolute rubble of his fake life.

“Serizawa.” Reigen’s voice is suddenly sharp. “Are you really going to doubt an expert spiritualist such as myself?”

“N— no, I didn’t mean—“

“Then accept it. You’re the only one in charge of your life. Let’s look at something else more interesting,” Reigen says, immediately shifting gears and ending the conversational thread. “Your heart line, it looks like it’s pretty—“

And this is something that Serizawa absolutely cannot handle. He yanks his hand out of Reigen’s before he can stop himself. “Reigen-san,” he said, voice climbing an octave. “I don’t know if that’s— appropriate.”

“Eh?” Reigen’s blinking at him.

“I mean,” he pulls his arms back, keeping whatever incriminating information is inscribed on his hands safely hidden. “Isn’t it bad to discuss… Relationships, in the workplace?”

Reigen tilts his head like Serizawa’s said something foreign. “It’s perfectly normal,” he says. “I help Mob with his relationships all the time.”

That’s obviously completely different, Serizawa wants to say, but the words won’t come. Suddenly, he’s seized with the idea— Reigen already knows exactly what he’s thinking and feeling. There’s probably a specific triangle of flesh on Serizawa’s hand that communicates, this person is in love with their superior, and Reigen’s seen it and knows. Serizawa feels the redness climbing all over his face. He can’t stop himself from looking down, palm turning up as he tries to find whatever betrayed him.

And immediately, Reigen’s grabbed his hand again. Serizawa feels his brain misfiring as Reigen yanks it closer. “Look,” Reigen says, eager. “Yours begins below your index finger, from the edge of your palm.” He indicates it, and Serizawa desperately wishes his heart would stop jackhammering in response. His pulse is loud enough to hurt his head, so surely Reigen can feel it pounding in his grip. “Means you’ve got a giving heart, Serizawa. It’s pretty short, so you’re introverted… But deep, so relationships are definitely important to you.”

“Aren’t they important to everyone?” Serizawa asks, floundering for any type of purchase in this conversation.

“Not necessarily,” Reigen says. “I mean, think about it— you’ve definitely met people who’ve put more work into relationships than others, haven’t you? But you value the people around you, so your hands reflect that. Maybe even…” His hand traces a crease, and he wiggles an eyebrow at Serizawa. “Value of a specific person? Someone you have in mind?”

Bone deep shame makes itself known from within Serizawa’s marrow. His fingers automatically curl inward, in an attempt to hide, and suddenly, without realizing, he’s holding the tips of Reigen’s fingers under his.

He expects Reigen to pull back, automatic, but Reigen doesn’t move at all. All Reigen does is go still, not meeting Serizawa’s eyes all of the sudden. His nose dips forward to look down at their hands, hovering above the table. It’s like he’s shy. Reigen is never shy.

“It’s a good thing, you know,” he says. “You’d be a good partner.”

He’s staring down at their hands, resting against the table, still not moving to pull his fingers away, or even to spread open Serizawa’s hand to continue his relentless assault of kind words. It’s like he’s perfectly content to rest there, long fingers trapped in Serizawa’s grip, which is probably too tight and not at all pleasant. Serizawa keeps waiting and waiting for Reigen to pull away, but he doesn’t.

Then, suddenly, the door to the office buzzes, signifying a walk in client. Reigen pinwheels away so dramatically he almost falls off his chair. A little pop of psychic energy spreads out from Serizawa’s feet, lifting everything in the office just an inch off the ground before it drops again. Serizawa stands, frantic, looking for something to do as Reigen hurriedly draws open the blinds.

It’s too late, though. The unexpected customer’s standing in the entrance, staring at both of them. “Um,” he begins, phone held lamely up. “I saw the sign outside, and I was wondering if I could ask about getting some spirit tags…”

Reigen recovers admirably, immediately pivoting into welcoming the customer and acting like it’s perfectly normal for both of them to sit around in the dark with only candles to see by. Serizawa guesses it’s not totally unreasonable— it is a psychic business, after all. You’d only know it was strange if you were a regular customer, and this man isn’t.

The only thing that betrays it as odd is the red blush that’s spread all over Reigen’s face, even staining his ears. It couldn’t be because of Serizawa, of course— it’s just that a customer caught him off guard. It has to be that.

Serizawa stares at the back of Reigen’s flushed neck, and wonders.

The rest of the day is tense.

It’s not exactly like Serizawa and Reigen sit side by side all day, but Reigen normally will get up and come see what Serizawa’s doing. He’ll hang over him as he supervises his work, or offer suggestions on whatever homework assignment he’s working on. In general, Reigen seems to dislike sitting still for long hours. He tends to pace about as he verbally puzzles through work problems to Serizawa, or Mob, or, probably, to an empty room. But after the palm reading, Reigen stays firmly confined to his desk, not saying anything at all as he still fidgets. Even when a client comes for an exorcism and he has to get up, Reigen maintains an exaggeratedly respectful distance between him and Serizawa.

The palm reading plays on repeat in Serizawa’s head, offering new mistakes for Serizawa to fixate on each time. The more they sit in silence, the more Serizawa’s completely sure that Reigen knows exactly how he feels. Why else would he suddenly become so shy? He wishes, fervently, that he’d just managed to keep it to act normally. Maybe if he hadn’t made such a fuss about the whole thing he wouldn’t have made Reigen uncomfortable. Now it’s even more obvious to Reigen where his feelings lie. It must disgust him, to have to deal with Serizawa’s sad, misaimed emotions— pathetically clinging to any basic kindness shown to him.

The whole afternoon, Reigen’s ears stay red as he works at his computer, only stealing glances at Serizawa when he thinks Serizawa can’t see.

He has to say something. He has to to apologize to Reigen for making everything so awkward. Maybe if he promises that he can control his feelings, that it won’t get in the way, things could go back to normal. Serizawa wishes the earth would swallow him whole. But it won’t— not without Serizawa splitting the earth open himself, at least. But if Serizawa wants to have any chance of reintegrating into normal society he has to deal with his feelings in an adult way.

Of course, Reigen beats him to bringing it up, as Serizawa’s dragging up the nerve to say something at the end of the day. He’s just stood, closing his laptop as he says, “Serizawa,” and pauses immediately, scratching the back of his neck. “You know, when you mentioned inappropriate workplace relationships—“

“I promise it won’t get in the way of anything,” Serizawa says in an explosive rush. “Please don’t fire me.”

Reigen stares at him, one hand still resting on the back of his neck. This is a look that Serizawa’s unfortunately gotten to know quite well. It’s the look that Reigen gives him when he’s said something unexpected. Serizawa’s begun to mentally mark it as a sign as conversational failure. “Pardon?”

Serizawa was really desperately hoping that Reigen wouldn’t make him actually say it, but that was looking less and less likely. “When you read my palm,” he stammers out, clutching onto the edge of his desk for dear life. “I know maybe not everything you saw was— appropriate, or maybe it showed something it shouldn’t, but I promise I won’t let it get in the way of working here. I can maintain professional boundaries, and… And…”

His voice trails as he dares to look back into Reigen’s face. It’s completely red again, naked surprise totally dominating his features. His hand’s gripping the back of his chair, like it’s stuck there. Reigen very rarely holds still, but in this moment, he’s completely frozen in place. By shock.

Abruptly, Serizawa realizes he was wrong. Reigen hadn’t seen his feelings in the surface of his fingers. But if he didn’t know about it before, he definitely, definitely knows about it now.

For a split second, Serizawa’s certain the office will collapse around them— his powers going rampant one last time to spare him this complete embarrassment. But all that happens is the furniture trembles, once. Serizawa supposes, under the part of his brain that’s screaming for death, that it shows he’s made good progress on controlling his powers.

He stands robotically. “I should go,” he says.

“No— no,” Reigen suddenly blurts, and he unsticks himself from behind the desk, racing across the office after Serizawa. “Serizawa, wait—”

Serizawa trips over his chair in his rush to leave, which gives Reigen the time to grab his arm before he reaches the door. It would be very easy to pull free and continue his frantic path onto the street and into the horizon, but the feeling of Reigen’s fingers digging into the side of his arm totally arrests Serizawa. He freezes, staring down into Reigen’s still beet-red face.

Reigen’s face is twitching in some kind of worrisome motion— he really looks like he’s about to have some kind of seizure, especially when his complexion is still so totally red. But finally, he manages to speak. “Our heart lines might not be so different, you know,” he says, voice wobbling just a little from— nerves? That can’t be right. Unless Reigen’s so totally disgusted by him that he’s nervous to be around him, now. But he’s holding on so tightly. Like he doesn’t want Serizawa to go.

Serizawa’s eyes slide away, not wanting to look at Reigen dead on, but then Reigen tugs his arm, insistent, trying to get his attention again. “Obviously, the qualities that we have, and the ways that we love— hypothetically— are very different,” Reigen says, voice gaining volume. “But, maybe similar things are revealed if you look closely. Just… A little closer.”

And then he doesn’t say anything, staring wide eyed at Serizawa. He’s clearly waiting for something, as Serizawa’s brain shudders to put the pieces together past every instinct that’s screaming at him to escape. Serizawa can’t conceive of a person being more different from him than Reigen. Any kind of similarity seems like too much to imagine. A similarity of the heart line? Maybe, Reigen has some of the good qualities he’s superimposed onto Serizawa, and that’s what he means. Or maybe— maybe—

Before he can stop himself, Serizawa’s hand slides up to grab the one that Reigen’s got on his arms. This time Reigen’s hand is damp with sweat. So is Serizawa’s, and he can’t imagine that it’s a pleasant experience for Reigen. Still, Reigen spreads his fingers, interlacing Serizawa’s fingers with his as they fall to the side.

“Just a little closer,” Reigen says again, voice almost a whisper as he steps into Serizawa’s personal space. The gap between their bodies narrows, and then vanishes, Reigen’s torso pressing against Serizawa’s.

It seems, impossibly, to be what Reigen wants. So before he can stop himself, Serizawa dips his head and kisses Reigen.

Reigen’s body leans up and into Serizawa, his free hand reaching up to touch his face. Underneath the fireworks happening behind Serizawa’s eyelids, there’s a moment of terror at Reigen touching his face— like he’ll find some patchy place where Serizawa missed shaving, or the pockmarked memory of an acne scar, and abruptly snap out of whatever insanity’s fallen over him. But Reigen touches his cheek gently, so, so, gently, and the fingers encircling Serizawa’s only tighten.

He’s sure, from any objective standpoint, it’s not a very good kiss— Serizawa’s never kissed anyone before, so his skills are probably awful. But it also means it’s the best he’s ever had. He never wants to come up for air.

Eventually, though, their faces break apart. Reigen’s face is still twitching a little, but now it’s up into an almost manic smile. Serizawa’s starting to wonder if the blush across Reigen’s face will ever subside. “This is,” Reigen begins, and then stops.

Reigen’s words rarely stop, and the silence stretches on for a few uninterrupted seconds until Serizawa realizes that genuinely, Reigen’s lost for words. A laugh threatens to break loose from Serizawa’s chest, but he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s laughing at Reigen. He only wants to express that whatever Reigen’s feeling, Serizawa understands. Completely and totally. It’s something he feels confident of when typically, Serizawa feels confident of nothing. So he just smiles, hoping that maybe, Reigen will understand too.

“I should have gotten into palmistry earlier,” Reigen says finally, and at that Serizawa can’t suppress his laugh. “Clearly I should screw around reading articles on the weekend more.”

“This wasn’t the reason you learned about palmistry,” Serizawa says, laugh still making his voice shake.

“Hell no,” Reigen snorts. “I just wanted to find another way to make a quick buck.” Then, immediately, he adds, “and also help our clients find out important truths about themselves, and the universe, of course—”

“While making a quick buck,” Serizawa says. It feels too joking, too disrespectful, but then, Serizawa’s just kissed Reigen. Reigen’s kissed him back. Worrying about professionalism seems suddenly pointless.

Reigen raises an eyebrow at him. “Sassy. Just don’t say that to the clients, Serizawa.”

His hand’s still clinging to Serizawa, gently swinging between them. Impulsively, Serizawa brings the hand up to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. Reigen’s breath pulls in, and Serizawa feels his face heat. He suddenly realizes that really, he has no idea what Reigen expects from this. They could be on completely different pages, Serizawa could be moving too fast, he could be doing everything all wrong.

But Reigen’s smiling at him. It’s a smile that he hasn’t seen before— totally unlike the dazzling grins that he gives his clients, and everyone he’s trying to convince to believe him. It feels different. The other smiles, Serizawa realizes, are something that Reigen puts on, in the same way that he puts on his tie in the morning. This one is real. This one is for Serizawa.

There’s a part of his stomach that’s still telling him this whole thing is a bad idea. Every chapter on workplace relationships he’s taken careful notes on is flashing on the back of his eyelids when he blinks. But, more and more, Serizawa’s realized that Spirits and Such is far from a typical office environment. Serizawa’s not a typical employee, and Reigen— wonderful, strange, perfect, Reigen— is not a typical boss.

When they walk out of the office, Reigen’s still holding his hand. Serizawa hopes, impossibly, that he never stops.

[tatwaffel]

“Remus didn't love Tonks. Tonks forced him into a relationship. He was too old for her!”

Bullshit.

First things first, why do some people think Remus didn't love Tonks? Well, Remus is more of a background character. He doesn't talk about his feelings a lot and lives very withdrawn because of his lycanthropy. But then there's this huge problem of Remus Lupin having no self confidence.

Why's that a problem? Well...

We had this wonderful conversation between the trio and Remus where he finally opened up a bit. He said marrying Tonks was a mistake.

But here we have to pay attention. Mind you, Remus has no self confidence. He thinks himself to be a monster. 'He had never fallen in love before'. He's scared and overwhelmed.

By saying he shouldn't have married Tonks he does not say in the slightest that he doesn't love her. He thinks he's ruined her life, spoiled his unborn son's life, made them outcasts.

I ask you, if you don't care about your wife and your unborn child, if you don't love them, would you care like that?

Remus clearly is full of regret but only for 'ruining' Tonks's life. Remus hates himself for that. And, being an outcast himself for years, he runs away. He panics. He's babbling here, clearly distraught. It seems like he left Tonks and apparated straight here.

So this is the scene that makes Remadora haters doubt. But, with all due of respect, if you really think that in this scene Remus finally admitted that he doesn't love Tonks, then you don't understand Remus's character at all.

Now we have that negative thing sorted, here some more positive evidence why Remus loved Tonks.

I'd like to refer to the article on Pottermore here, saying Remus was 'first amused, then impressed, then seriously smitten' by Tonks. 'He had never fallen in love before'.

And this fits so well!

You have this clumsy, bubbly, jolly auror lass with the pink hair and large boots. She's constantly tripping, always up for mischief, bubbling with life. For Remus, Tonks is the definition of happiness. Happiness - a thing he's missed for many many years. He learns to smile again, watching her trip over the troll leg but still laughing, watching her morph her hair in a all colours of the rainbow or walking in with a beak. Despite there being a war, he can finally smile again. He found happiness in her.

But then, as they naturally go on missions (like it's said on Pottermore), he realizes that Tonks is capable. She's an auror trained by Alastor Moody after all. She could battle three death eaters at once and probably still win without being scarred. But he's not only impressed by that. He's impressed that she doesn't mind him being a werewolf. He's impressed that she still wants to spend time with him. She's so different from most of the wizard community. She's kind of a freak, really, just like him.

But then, feelings come. He finds himself not only smitten, but seriously smitten. Tonks is all he secretly yearns for. Someone who takes him the way he is, someone who makes him smile even in this dark times. He has fallen for the clumsy auror with the vivid hair.

When she told him she loved him 'after a year of warm friendship', his first reaction was a kind of happiness he's never felt before! He did not immediately start rejecting her, as said on Pottermore, that came later. His first reaction was happiness that the woman he loved loved him back.

Then there's the fact that he clearly enjoyed her company. Pottermore states that, despite his belief that he had to reject her, he still was happy every time he got paired on an overnight mission with her. Furthermore, they are together all the time! Usually, whenever Remus is mentioned in OOTP, Tonks is around. Whether as an old lady escorting the kids back to Hogwarts, or as herself at the breakfast table at headquarters. Coincidence? Well, you never saw Hestia or Emmeline that much in Remus's company, did you?

Oh, and there's this cute little fact of Remus being jealous. Before telling him she's fallen for him sometime in summer 1996, Tonks mentions that 'Sirius is still handsome, isn't he? Even after Azkaban.' And Remus's reaction is jealousy. He tells her that he supposes she's fallen for Sirius, then. Would he react like that if he wasn't in love with Tonks? Certainly not.

A chapter Remadora haters must've overlooked when reading the books was the one in DH when Remus came to Shell Cottage and proudly told everyone about their son. He's beaming and bubbling, which is nothing like the withdrawn and melancholic Remus we know. He's incredibly happy. He also speaks of 'Dora' pretty much, in a very affectionate way.

But second thing, Tonks pushed Remus into a relationship. What?

This is something most Remadora haters say. But, if they really knew Remus's character, they'd realize it's utter bullshit.

Yes, Remus is a lonely and sad man a lot of the time. He yearns to have someone who loves him, be near this someone. He doesn't like to be lonely.

However, he went away with the werewolf pack for about a year. Again, Remus Lupin went to life with the werewolf pack of Fenrir Greyback, the one who ruined his life, for an entire bloody year. An attempt to run away from his feelings, make Tonks realize she wouldn't miss him and just fall for another man - but most importantly here: Remus did manage to keep his distance tho the woman who he loved was waiting at a safer place than somewhere in a cave or forest filled with wolves.

Remus does posses a great will power. If he really didn't want to engulf himself in a relationship, a marriage with Tonks, he simply wouldn't!

Remus wouldn't marry a woman he didn't love just because she loved him and he wanted to do her a favor.

Just recently, I read someone saying that Tonks isn't a strong woman. She's clingy for chasing after Remus.

Tonks didn't chase after Remus. If she had, she would've abandoned her auror duties and left for any forest to get Remus back from the pack. But she stayed at Hogwarts doing her duty of protecting the castle.

We all know she suffered from depression after Remus started rejecting her. Her hair is mousy brown, she looks ill and sad. No wonder. In her eyes, the love of her life preferred death over being with her. How is that not heartbreaking? Besides, her cousin second degree and good friend, Sirius, passed away recently. She's pretty much alone now. And there's a war! She's lost Sirius to the veil, has lost or might lose Remus to the wolves, might lose her parents to the death eaters. This is all much to cope with.

But I ask you: doesn't it make Tonks strong that she kept going? She wasn't selfish and chased after Remus, she guarded Hogwarts because that's where the Order needed her. Plus, she showed her emotions. She didn't try to act like all was well. And that is true strength.

Tonks didn't cling to Remus, pushing him to be with her because she wanted to. Tonks could've had any man, actually. But she wanted Remus.

An important detail we have to see here is that Tonks's attitude described as 'clingy' isn't rooted in selfishness.

This is fiction, but Remus was a broken man. And Tonks tried to fix him. Though Remus said and thought the contrary, Tonks knew that he was indeed worthy of love. Tonks is not stupid - she realized that Remus liked her back. So why should she not try to make him realize he could and should be happy?

There's another thing Remadora haters bring up, which is saying that Tonks's patronus didn't change of pure love, but obsession. Tonks's patronus is a wolf like Remus's because she's obsessed with him. This is compared to Snape's relation to Lily, which is also (labeled as) obsession. Doe and doe, wolf and wolf.

Now what if I tell you that doe and doe doesn't work in nature? Wolf and wolf does. Remus being a male ought to have a male wolf patronus, Tonks a female one. Like it was for James and Lily aka stag and doe.

Tonks's patronus changed because she truly loved Remus. As already stated before, she wasn't obsessed with him.

Tonks didn't go into the battle because she was obsessed with Remus either. She joined the Battle of Hogwarts to fight alongside her husband. Tonks did something Tonks always does when it comes to Remus: make sure he's not alone, make sure he's loved, make sure he's protected.

Last thing, the 13 years age gap.

Well? Why exactly does that matter?

In OOTP Tonks was 22, Remus was 35. In the wizarding world, Tonks was a woman of full age. Five years over the magical line of 17 years, actually. Both were adults. Why is that problematic? When Tonks was born, Remus was 13. That even makes him too old to be her father! I see no problem in that age gap, to be honest. I only see a problem in the narrow minded people who keep using it as a reason why Remus and Tonks shouldn't be together.

I do not expect you all to ship Remadora after this and abandon all your other Remus x any character ships you liked before, simply to stop hating on Remadora - stop hating on any other ship. This is fiction, after all.

All of us are drawn to that one ship, canon or not, that fills our heart with indescribable joy and makes us believe in true love.

For me, that is Remus x Tonks.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression, radio version - Live special #3, August 9th 2016.

✯📆Kaoru starts by trying to remember when the last live special was, getting it wrong by saying it was at the start of year (It was actually in Dec).  Kaoru comments on how the amount of staff in the studio is different from usual when they go live. They also have half-price off food from the supermarket to keep them going for 2 hours.

✵🐎They then welcome Hiranabe and Tasai to join them for the show. Hiranabe worries whether he'll still have a job in the morning after doing this show. He doesnt want to lose his job, as he just also lost a ton of money on the horse racing.

Kaoru then suggest they might get a visit from Kami at some point, and they will try to have a phone call with Dobashi, who is currenly in Brazil 🇧🇷.

He then gets started with the top 5 stories of the first half of 2016. Counting down from...

●5. North Korean satellite lauch/ America and Japan suspect an intercontinental ballistic missile launch - Hiranabe thinks American satellites are so advanced that America will know exactly what N.Korea is doing. Joe thinks the wording/phrasing in such news articles makes a big difference as to how the story is percieved.

Kami tells them he is ok to appear on the show tonight, as he managed to catch the last train home after work. He's now enjoying taking part with a beer.

●4. A boom in adultery - Celebrity Becky's affair (plus apology to her sponsers at a press conference) at the start of the year has set off a string of public revelations about the adulterous affairs of other celebrities, all of whom have also immediately held press conferences to apologize. Before this year, celebrities tended to use their personal blogs etc to address the accusations. Joe brings up something he heard from Nuclear Safety Chief Madarame Haruki when interviewing him about the 3.11 disaster. Madarame said that it has long been Japan's culture to never badmouth a samurai who has commited seppuku. Badmouthing such a person makes you worse than whatever they did. In this way, if celebs appear at a press conference with tears in their eyes and full of apology, they can avoid any future dragging about their past mistakes.

✵🏘️At this point Kaoru takes a break from the countdown to read out an email from a listener. The email is from someone who currently lives in their hometown, but is thinking of moving to Tokyo, so they want to know Kaoru's advice for moving to Tokyo for the first time as a single person. Kaoru says he moved to Tokyo 19 years ago, and lived in Nerima ward at first, specifically the neighborhood Fujimidai. This was to be near to where Dir's manager lived. The rent was ¥120,000 a month for a 2LDK apartment, which he shared with Kyo. Kami gives out advice to not be picky about specific locations when searching for a cheap place. Hiranabe brings up the website 'Oshima teru', where you can check to see which apartments have previously been the sites of murders/deaths. The rent for such apartments is often abnormally cheap.  

✵🤭🤭🤭 Next Kaoru moves onto some news which interested Hiranabe a lot, the story being very typical of him....'Admission of squirting'. (Lots of laughs from the others, and Joe wants to know more 😆). The story relates to the model Darenogare Akemi. She appeared on a radio show and was denying the rumour that she was the type to lie still during sex, she claimed that she moves around and vocalises a lot during sex. The host of the show asked her, 'Yeh, but I bet you don't squirt?'. She replied on air, 'I do, I did for the first time a year and a half ago'. Hiranabe decided to dedicate a whole page in Tokyo Sports to this story.

Hiranabe was also fond of the Beat Takeshi 'Comǎneci pose' story, invovling actresses Ayase Haruka, Nagasawa Masami, and Hirose Suzu. This story was talked about previously on Ep 25.

✵☎️Next, they try having a direct phone convo with a listener. The caller brings up the news of the 2016 World Happiness Report, in which Japan ranked at #53. Joe explains these results are obtained by surveying local populations, but each nation has different standards of what happiness is. Kaoru thinks happiness is not something that should be ranked in this way. The caller then asks Hiranabe why he never learns to not spend so much money on women. He answers 'Because Im an idiot'. Joe asks the caller what she thinks Hiranabe looks like. She says 'a face which can't be broadcast'. (Laughs all round).

✵🎶Next they listen to a few of the new jingle entries. They like the second entry, which apparently contains phrases influened by a couple of Dir songs. They also like the fifth entry and ask Kami to do the voice-over on it, which they all find hilarious. Kaoru says he might use some of these entries on the show in future.

📞✵🇧🇷Next they connect via the phone to Dobashi, who is in Brazil covering the 2016 Olympics for Tokyo Sports. He is calling from the table tennis venue, as he is covering a match there. He says he has seen a few Japanese athletes win gold medals in other events, and encourages listeners to buy Tokyo Sports to read his reports.

They ask Dobashi various questions about security, and the local food etc, then Hiranabe asks him if he has any of the commemorative Olympic condoms, and whether or not he has used them. Dobashi says he has some, but hasn't used them. He opened one to check it out, and it was so thick, obviously not made in Japan (his words). Hiranabe asks him to bring some back as souvenirs 🤭😆

✵Before moving onto # 3 in the countdown, Kaoru reads out an email. This is from a listener who is a fan of Dobashi and wants to know what kind of woman he likes. Hiranabe knows his type..he likes kinda crazy women. Another email from 'radio name: 0.3mm' asks for some Olympic condoms. The last email asks them whether they like watching movies on regular screens, or on 3D/4D screenings. Kaoru prefers regular screens, otherwise he finds it difficult to concentrate. He recently watched the movie 'Shin Godzilla' (in 2D), and was anxious seeing familiar Tokyo landmarks getting trashed.

Continuing the countdown...

●3. Muhammed Ali's death. This was discussed in ep 39, about how Ali was very outspoken in regards to segregation. Despite Obama becoming the first black president, Joe questions how much discrimination against black people by white people in the US has actually improved. Hiranabe agrees with Joe, in that based on the news, race relations are not improving at all. Joe says we must be careful not to focus too much on the big headline of Obama as President. That doesn't suddenly mean everything is ok now.

Hiranabe then talks for a bit about his memories of prowrestler Antonio Inoki, who fought with Ali once.

●2. The eventual resignation of (former) Tokyo Governor Masuzoe Yōichi. Masuzoe had held onto his position as long as possible, claiming he was innocent. He's used specific techniques during press conferences to avoid getting cornered. Hiranabe was impressed with the words of new candidate Torigoe Shuntaro, who used the phrase, 'Everyone please get distracted', instead of the usual 'Don't get distracted', which candidates usually finish their speeches with. Joe draws comparisons with the 3.11 response. A third party investigation committee was set up in both the 3.11 case and Masuzoe's case, but if the guilty parties are choosing which lawyers make up the committee, its not very impartial in the end. Use of the word 'third-party' is another trick politicians use to try to look innocent.

✵☎️Next they take another phone call from a listener. This caller's first fave news of the year is the announcement of new Dir en grey tours. His second is about Pokemon Go. He asks if Kaoru plays. Kaoru says he's already given up, after getting to level 12. Joe interrupts to say Kami looks as if he's about to fall asleep.

Reaching the end of the countdown..

●1. Mystery Phoenix appears in sun. This is a story from Tokyo Sports back in May. Shapes resembling a phoenix have been spotted in various photos of the sun which were released by NASA. Tokyo Sports offered the suggestion of whether this might actually be real. Tasai hands a copy of Tokyo Sports out to everyone to show them the image, but Kaoru is more interested in another story on the same page: 'Discovery in Arizona of trunk from 20cm tall elephant with fish gills'. Joe then reads out some similarly crazy headlines from the newspaper in his hands. The question arises of whether this story merits being at #1.

✵To finish a quick suggestion of another live special at the end of the year, as long as everyone still has their job, and are not in Atami...., and Kaoru plugs his upcoming tours. In the last min, they all agree that Kami voicing the jingle was the funniest bit of the show. Kaoru wishes the listeners good luck at work tomorrow after staying up late to listen to the show.

Songs - Dir en grey/Amon (Symphonic ver.), Ill niño/God Save Us, Dir en grey/Un deux, Meshuggah/New Millennium Cyanide Christ, Dir en grey/Ruten no tou, Jakalope/Go Away, Dir en grey/Utafumi, System of a Down/Chop Suey.

To radio top page

[lastsonlost]

Many of the women promoting the “cancellation” of men in comics, and demanding they post the recent empty promise known as #ComicsPledge, are in fact hypocrites.  In this article, I’m going to present evidence of lies, collusion, rumor spreading, and, in my opinion, defamation and contract interference.

I personally know that they’ve colluded for YEARS to take down men. Specifically those with conservative politics and philosophies. This is an ongoing, coordinated effort. How do I know this?

Because I obtained access to their PRIVATE FACEBOOK GROUP.

This is Part 1 of the #Hypocralypse leaks

There is simply too much to put in one leak, so I will make the following three points for now.

1. The so-called Comic Book Whisper Network, which has been dismissed as conspiracy since 2016, is real, and I have hundreds of screenshots to prove it.

2. The Whisper Network has been targeting men and trying to destroy their careers, and use their connections in the comic book media to do so.

 3. Whisper Network members have acted unprofessionally and unethically at best. At worst, they have engaged in what I believe could be illegal behavior.

MY STORY

I first heard about the Whisper Network back in mid-2016 from folks I knew at Image, DC, Marvel, and later, Valiant.  Depending on who I chatted with, sometimes the group was called ‘The Women’s Network’, other times ‘The Whisper Network’, occasionally ‘The Whisper Campaign’, and eventually there were more conspiratorial names used mockingly (a friend called them a gender-swapped 4Chan, which became ‘FemChan’ to some insiders).

Regardless of the name, it was all the same group.

The same five or six names kept popping up in conversation over and again. As time ticked on, I noticed a trend on Social Media: half a decade of rumors, false allegations, cancellation attempts , and they almost always traced back to these same five or six people.  The goal of this Whisper Network, according to industry folks, was simple: choose a target, smear them until they lose their reputation, their income, and are ultimately blacklisted – opening up job opportunities for the same people who started these smear campaigns in the first place.

 Behind the scenes these “cancellations” are painted as morally or politically motivated, but in the end it’s all financial. As time passed, the group in question seemed more and more like a reality. I saw their influence. I saw things I knew to be verifiably untrue go viral online, appearing in what I thought were legit news sources. I felt angry and helpless seeing innocent people getting attacked, but did not know what to do. 

A few years passed and by 2018 almost everyone I interacted with in the industry seemed to know about the Network, from top level editors right down to the letterers. It was an open secret, but no one was willing to speak up for fear of being targeted themselves. They knew the consequences.

And after all, this was a secret network. Without proof, there was no point in going public because members would just deny its existence, and use their media connections to smear anyone who challenged them.

 THEN THINGS GOT INTERESTING

December 16, 2018, Whisper Network member Gail Simone, who joined the Network 6 years ago (4 years before the following tweet was posted), mocks “doofuses” who speculate that a “whisper campaign” exists.

At this point in late 2018, I was still skeptical of the Whisper Network’s existence. I’d heard many stories of individuals spreading rumors and lies, and plenty of malicious behavior was going on behind closed doors. Though I wasn’t ready to believe it was a coordinated effort, or collusion was involved.  Then, certain people began openly mentioning the Whisper Network and my attitude changed.

 March 26, 2019, Heather Antos, a member herself, did not outright mention the Whisper Network or her involvement, but she made what some took as a veiled threat to those who got on her bad side.

 Heather “milkshake girl” Antos’ colorful backstory at Marvel, and later at Valiant, is notorious in the comic industry. A conversation about office rumor-spreading and bullying is never complete without someone bringing up a juicy Antos anecdote. Everyone has one.

Up until then, I still hadn’t seen ACTUAL PROOF of a larger scheme. But then, something changed in 2020.

January 8, 2020, Alex de Campi, who I would discover is one of the most active Whisper Network members, openly admits there is a Network. I have no idea if this was a slip or a brazen attempt to show off her power and influence, but this appeared.

Eventually, everything I had heard and read was confirmed beyond any shadow of a doubt after I gained access to their private Facebook group.

I WAS INSIDE THE WHISPER NETWORK!

This is the place where the Whispher Network has been colluding for years. And although their activity is not confined to just this site, from what I can tell, this was where they first met, and started their coordinated campaigns.

Members of the Secret Group called “Comic Book Women”

At present time, there are 440+ members of the secret Facebook group, called COMIC BOOK WOMEN. From what I can tell, a few are regular users, though many of them have never posted.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/comicbookwomen/ 

*unless you are a member, this will not show up in a search

Secret Facebook groups offer the same level of privacy as closed groups, but operate under a cloak of invisibility. No one can search for secret groups or even request to join them. The only way to get in one is to know someone who can invite you. Everything shared in a secret group is visible only to its members.

This secret group includes a list of members whose actions and connections speak for themselves. Members such as:

Zoe Quinn

Gail Simone

Alex de Campi

Heather Antos (aka Heather Marie)

Mags Visaggio (aka Magdalene Francis)

Mairghread Scott

And several key members of the group are women who work in the comics media and can be used to run damage control, including women like Heidi MacDonald of Comics Beat.  They have contacts outside of the secret network as well, with some male allies in both comics and the media.

Just the fact that all of these folks were secretly linked in a private network came as a shock to me, considering their reputations and the accusations that they’ve made. Immediately I began to connect the dots…

They’ve denied for YEARS that they coordinate their actions in private. And yet they always coincidentally appear on Twitter, retweeting and amplifying each other’s accusations, signal boosting one another, and helping them gain traction. And their allies in media – Bleeding Cool and CBR specifically – will turn those same tweets into stories almost instantly & with no fact-checking or verification, sometimes within the hour.

I’m going to start explaining who the key actors are, and, from my perspective, how they coordinate these attacks.

KEY ACTORS

There are too many people to focus on at once, so I will have to break this into several posts, but I will start with one of the clear group leaders IMO.

Alex de Campi is well connected, despite never being part of the Big Two (since, from what I’ve been told management is well aware of her bullying, harassment, rumor-spreading and unethical behavior that goes back years, and depending on who you talk to she’s almost as notorious as Antos or Tess Fowler).  She just wrapped up a graphic novel campaign on Kickstarter with David Bowie’s son, the Hollywood film director Duncan Jones. It grossed over $366K

All the while she makes baseless accusations while demanding transparency from everyone else.

Now, I’ll take you into their private network.

Two years ago, on May 13, 2018, De Campi launched a private campaign to target an independent creator, claiming she was using her connections to have Simon & Schuster cancel their book.

In addition to contacting the publisher, others in the Whisper Network coordinated their efforts to contact media outlets to have the narrative changed, according to the posts in this thread.  Again, in my opinion, this could end up as a defamation or tortious interference case, and has many implications regarding media bias as well.

 

The following month, on June 23, 2018, de Campi posted private text messages between herself and writer Max Bemis in what appeared to be an attempt to damage his career. Despite Bemis being mentally ill (diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2014), de Campi still posted the private messages with malicious intent IMO. According to US and UK law this is an actionable offense: posting private texts without both parties consenting.

[soranihimawari]

Bella Donnas & Love

This is the final installment of the Hanahaki Disease AU featuring the Seijoh Four. This is a Mattsukawa Issei x Yin (YN/Reader) story.

Word Count: 4.3 K

Warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal attempts, mentions of burn out, and intrusive thoughts

Recommended Audience: 17+ (minors recommended to not read because of the warnings attached)

Pairing: Mattsukawa Issei x reader// MIA->MIF [Mattsukawa Issei angst to Mattsukawa Isei fluff]

Mattsukawa Issei is a simple man. He sees the world in copious amounts of black, white, and gray; it isn’t because he is colorblind either. It is because he knows his worth. Truthfully, his parental figures were always a bit worried about their son especially given the profession he has chosen to pursue. Being in the business of burning and or burying the dead, Mattsukawa Issei is a fan of the loneliest times in a lifetime: they say when we are brought into the world, we are alone, and when we pass on, we too exit the world alone. There is nothing wrong with finding a job in the business of death, but even angels have demons. And for Mattsukawa, you are an exquisite example of the dichotomy between his dark side and your eventual akin to the brighter side.

It is a known fact in Japan, the pressure to be perfect or to fit into the mold of society has been a fatal flaw throughout the years. This is the main reason why at exactly two fifty-five in the morning, Mattsukawa Issei notices a young person, hanging out on the edge of the skyscraper across his workplace. There was a late night arrival to the city morgue; he just needed to be there to sign the paperwork to turn over the embalming processes to his mentors. It was the deceased wishes to be buried in the mausoleum in the home town of their forefathers: the mountain side of Nagasaki.

You were having a rough day: you were told you by your employers that you’ve been slacking for too long getting numbers for the statistics presentation coming up with business partners across the South China Sea. Then your grandparent were strictly feeding toxic lies to your parent(s) about how you would never find a suitable partner to marry you. Quite frankly, because you put your career and studies first, you had no issues putting your family in their place. The intrusive thoughts, snide comments about your appearance, was enough for you to glance at the sleeping pills that were prescribed to you to assist in a normal pattern, to invade your subconscious. The events which led you to climb the fire escape up to the rooftop garden in your kitten heels made for a daring flirtation with death. There have been nights the last couple of months where your heart is heavy in your chest, your lungs are intoxicating you with the poisonous belladonna petals.

“What a time to find out I’m going to die a lot sooner than I thought,” you sighed into your palm. Your eyes scour the hazy city in the afterglow; after a tizzy of a day you had, you chose that perhaps this might be a sign of the universe you were better off dead. Either that or your soulmate would be in extreme pain and you didn’t want to disappoint their perception of your love. Then again, you wouldn’t know what love, honest, and kind would feel like even when you’re about to let it all go.

You are devoid of emotion as you bring yourself to your feet. A hand of yours drags across your face. The drop is high enough to entice little to severe damage like broken legs, or severe head trauma, but to be truly free, you wish to be put out of your misery as quickly as possible.

Mattsukawa sees the figure clad in a lighter powder blue and his eyes are wide with fear. The morgue worker and delivery driver had already gone off into the night to complete the rest of the deliveries of bodies to the funeral homes. As soon as he finished locking up and registering the corpses, Mattsukawa was determined to see your hair wind blowing on the rooftops. The blurred vision he sees makes the twenty-seven year old shiver. Even in his line of work, this was the second instance he wanted to save someone. He knew of you: the business woman who was suffering from a similar ailment to him. The belladonna hues from your rebellious highlights enticed him to notice how you seemed a bit off at the coffee house you frequent by the funeral parlour he had been working at.

“Excuse me,” you said, holding on to your mug. Your knuckles were white with tension, so Mattsukawa did something unexpected of himself: he gave you way, but instead of sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant cafe, he sat directly across from you. The crowd was getting to be a bit noisy, but you and him sat there staring off center, hyper fixating on the number of people sign in either direction.

“Why do you smell like belladonna?” You asked. You had a glance meet you with a harsh smile.

“It’s part of my line of work. I use it to bury the dead at the request for all nameless suiciders that wind up on my table,” Mattsukawa explains. The oils from his embalming course was enough to mimic actual belladonna, but has he noticed from her, it wasn’t coming from just his hands: it was coming from her hair. He asked a question about why you seemed so strung up lately and like a fool, you told him everything which was bothering you. If anything, this man was a silent confession box. He seemed like the genuine article, so when you check for the time, you realize it was time to leave and head back to the office to grab the final jump drive for the presentation. Things at work seemed to have gotten better since the next time you’d see your precious Mattsukawa would be in the next life. You never truly disclosed your name to him, so he made a note call you Bella or Donna (whichever you preferred really). His smile is flirtatiously coy and you felt your cheeks grow a bit warm from the moment he told you his name.

For whatever reason, perhaps Mattsukawa was feeling a bit lucky, he asked you to dinner the day before yesterday. He wanted to know you, truth and all, bruised and damaged as you were, the meds your doctor prescribed were starting to cushion the intrusive thoughts. However that changed the moment you give him a nod, he grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the cafe; gently he squeezes your fingers for reassurance.

“You’ll do great Miss. I believe in you,” Mattsukawa whispers in the last part. The cafe begins to echo again, so you couldn’t hear the last part, but you were sure it was an encouraging word. Mattsukawa was the first person in a long while to give you something so few in your battlefield mind would want (or need): hope.

“Goodbye Mattsukawa.”

With that said, you were gone from the cafe and headed back into the office where a different manager made your life hell because their normal assistant was very organized, but the constant comparison was enough to make your head explode.

Presently, you stand on the ledge, glancing down like a superhero vigilante, but just as you were about to take a dive, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your waist. The hands are interlocked under your empire waist line and if it wasn’t for the fact your hair was probably in a ponytail prior to this predicament, you’re sure your band was lost to gravity and the wind. You thrashed about in your captor’s arms, not realizing this person was about to save you from an awful mistake.

You see, Mattsukawa Issei is a funeral employee; he dresses sharply like an agent of the Grim Reaper. He is suave and debonair; he loves watching the life cycles of the various flower arrangements in his mentors stores go throughout the seasons. His heart and soul is full of vibrancy you have yet to comprehend; Mattsukawa was always a strong individual and you could ask anyone of his friends in school what kind of person he was. So, what made you so different? Sure you were stressed out, anybody could see that, but Mattsukawa picked up on the depressive aura you emanated. Did he really want to sit in front of you that afternoon? Sure; it was mainly because he couldn’t shake this feeling ever since you were ahead of him in line to order that he was supposed to meet you here (even if you were at your lowest post appointments at the business office downtown).

You struggle to let go, but the owner of these hands does not wish to loosen their grip on you; you ask twice kindly to be left alone and the soft ortund tone of the stranger’s voice from the cafe stops you from thrashing about further.

He tumbles back and lands on his arse with you sitting on his lap, pressed against his broad chest. His sleeves from the black oxford shirt he wears is rolled up to his elbows, and his hands still are in an interlocked position. Mattsukawa has seen some pretty fucked up causes of death recently, yet this time, he wanted to save you, not bury you. He wants to see you tomorrow night at dinner in the diner close to his loft; he wants you to understand maybe death isn’t all that grand and if you struggle with your mind everyday, he wishes to someday be of importance to you. You’re in charge of your own autonomous decisions, yet Mattsukawa wants you to give him a chance to prove to you that love, hope, and for the very fortunate, miracles exist (even if you weren’t shown any).

“You’re sick,” he closes his eyes. Apparently, you pick up on the frown in his voice and somehow, you’re sixth sense of empathy decides not to fight his tonality, but rather when you subconsciously agree and call your mental state one of a landmine, he doesn’t make a fuss. It was a short exam and you realize may be life is worth living for a nano-second. You could have an entire relationship with this man from the cafe in a span of two hours, if that. The fates must have had a wicked sense of humor when pairing either of you to the other: one who works with and around death, the other has an affinity to try and cross into the next life every moment things in the sea turn too rough.

You slowly stop trying to fight him the moment you hear his voice toss in the wind. Instead, you move your hands to hover limply on his, leaning back and letting his breathing calm you. The smell of belladonna from your hair oil wafts through the air. “Suicide is not how I want your story to end.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about or-o-or,” you stammer on. “Perhaps I don’t want to be alive anymore because people keep interfering.”

This causes Mattsukawa’s heart to gain a solid crack. You toss your head back and land harshly against his sternum, causing him to grunt and inhale sharply.

It rips seamlessly to his soul. In the past six to eight years since he entered his chosen profession, he has seen corpses from all ages, the youngest being eight who suffered from a myriad of health issues including Hanahaki because the playground friend in their preschool years was going to be theirs when the time properly came. Mattsukawa, the night he was on duty for the wake, anonymously donated the flowers that would have made the child laugh on wishes. Sure, life does have it’s moments when it tests us, yet he couldn’t wrap his head around the burn out business person from earlier this week, who was now in his arms, safe.

Unintentionally landing on his back with you on top of his chest was not how he had pictured becoming a hero. Just for one night, Mattsukawa Issei, the stern and most silent of the volleyball players in high school, was a hero worthy of saving a life.

“Argh,” he groans.

He coughs quietly away from your face when his hands loosen their hold. You chose to not chastise him about not wearing a sweater in the middle of autumn. After all, this man was the only one who would be daft enough to try and stop you. You curl into him, hiding your face in the satin finish of his dress shirt; you promise to buy him a new one as long as you let him hide your eyes and you break down. You’re crying over the smallest inconvenience and on top of feeling like a burden to the man, you consistently apologize by saying it’s no one’s fault especially his when you catch yourself in your darkest moment.

Mattsukawa listens to your request: with one hand, he covers your left side of your face, the right is patting your hair down, reassuring you that he will console you until the sobs stop and the sniffles remain.

“You’re lucky I live and work not too far from here doll,” he whispers into your hair. You’re calming down as you hiccup the last couple of bubbles of air. You nod in understanding the words he was saying, but you still have your eyes closed to shield himself (and keep your pride intact) when he would peer into your bloodshot ones.

“Don’t worry about me tryin’ anything either. You’ve been through enough tonight. Just let me take care of you for the rest, ok?”

“Mmhm,” you agree. He sits up half way and you rise with him, your eyes ever looking westward until you see one of his handkerchiefs from his back pants pocket dangle in your line of sight. You stifle a laugh, utter a thanks, and begin to dry your face. Mattsukawa, when you were done, doesn’t hold your face anymore, even if it pains him to do so. Your free hand decides for both of you: your left reaches for his and you bring the calloused hand, opened palm, to your cheek. Your skin is soft and sticky from the tears, but if anyone were to ask Mattsukawa what it felt like to save a life, he would humbly point you out in a crowd and say ‘Ask ‘em yourself.’

“I lost sight of the things that brought me joy,” you say quietly. You’re breathing in his cologne and it smells like whiskey sours. The scent grounds you, as you recall your therapist giving you stress-relieving tricks such as naming five to ten things your senses pick up on. Your cheeks feel soft like mochi ice against Mattsukawa’s open palm; you see the neon lights hazily glow in the city below you; and finally, you hear his shirt ruffle against the shell of your ear when you finally calm down.

“Everyone does,” Mattsukawa agrees. “Can you do something for me?”

“Mattsukawa-san,” you said his name and he chuckles in surprise. You remembered his name? This was even better than before. He finds himself falling gently in like with you. The love between long lost friends is what keeps him afloat. Unwillingly, you find yourself amusedly smiling at his tanned skin glowing with a soft hues under his eyes. Was this man blushing?

“Call me Issei or Mattsun,” his voice says when his other hand loops around your waist. He buried his head on your right shoulder.

Tonight you learn that even strong and by your standards of “fine men” do in fact cry. You blink a couple more times and he just cries a mixture of tears he has no control over.

“Mattsun,” you say, voice soft like the breeze sending a boat to sail. “I’m sorry about all this.”

“You could have said you weren’t feeling well if you didn’t want to go out with me,” Mattsukawa jokes, turning his head to the side so you wouldn’t see his tear stricken face to the side. He asks you, if you felt comfortable enough, to just stay still for a moment.

The rooftop rendezvous was not what you had in mind when you came home from clocking out, but considering you were heavily contemplating ending your existence earlier, this one request was not too hard to fulfill. The belladonna in your bronchioles seemed to dislodge itself into your lungs. You stay as still as your companion had asked and you breathe in time together. His curls are soft to the touch and when he relaxes his shoulders when you run a hand through his hair, you feel him grin on the right of your shoulder blades.

Was this what it felt like to be you every hour before you both met at the cafe? This profound sadness doesn’t leave his heart nor does he quite shake the feeling of the leaves of the belladonna flowers taking root in his lungs. The flowers bloomed slowly since his twenty-third birthday were the same ones you dyed your hair for. You’ve been suffering with the hanahaki disease for quite some time, you confess back to him.

“Is that why you were here? Trying to jump?” Mattsukawa asks an innocent inquiry. He seemed like he was about to be scolded for the first time in seven years, yet you thought it was kind of adorable. And so you do something you haven’t done in a very long time: you scoff (although you were sure it was closer to a giggle.

“No,” you reply. “I was contemplating jumping because all my triggers hit at once, so I’ve been in a depressive episode for quite some time before we met.”

“Oh,” Mattsukawa acknowledges. “Do you want to stay the night?”

“…that’s awfully forward of you,” you say. Your pragmatic inner voice says to decline, but there is a mischievous side of his mannerisms, nonetheless you are curious. It is late into the evening already, so perhaps the offer is a better one. After all, you think the change of scenery would do you some good, so you humbly agree.

Roughly an hour later, you find yourself in Mattsukawa’s living room area. Offering his shower to you, you ask if there is something he can lend you. It is an old shirt with his high school cactus logo on it, but the shorts he tosses to you has a VBC and his old number stitched on the back pocket. Mattsukawa hands you a spare towel and tells you how to work the shower in his bathroom. Twenty minutes later, you sit close to the kotatsu even if it’s not too cold outside at the moment, you tend to sleep better underneath one.

Prior to your shower, Mattsukawa-san graciously gave you a small tour of his loft when you arrived. The walk wasn’t too far from the rooftop building and so you two walk side by side until the loft complex came into view. Mattsukawa says hi to the doorman who makes a joke or two about how he had almost pulled another overnight at the funeral home.

“Be careful with that one miss, he’d work himself to death! Ha! Work himself to death,” the doorman says, wiping a faux tear from his eye. You snickered covering your smile with the back of your hand. When you put it to the side of your body, Mattsukawa notices how dazzling your smile is. How would someone who smiles this much at a pun, hold so much carnage of self-doubt and depressive thoughts in their heart? Is that why your flowers and your scent are wrapped in poisonous belladonna? Mattsukawa shakes this thought to the furthest parts of his mind. You’re here now, in the next room, safe under the same roof.

The master bedroom door is opened just a crack once Mattsukawa is half-dressed in his pajama pants, parading around shirtless fetching a glass of water from the kitchen. You were already seated on the barstool peering out the sliding glass door of the patio outside. Jumping was not the way to die for you, you think. Perhaps if you died with love, perhaps you’d have a better chance of reincarnation than you thought. The ambient sounds of the refrigerator and the water spout being used brought you back to hold the gaze of your host for the evening. You made a conscientious decision to cash in on your PTO at your work location for the next two weeks via e-mail. You explain to the HR representative you were feeling burn out and your therapist was working with you to battle the depressive episodes you were going through. The automotive message came back saying someone from the office of internal affairs would look into the chain of command in your division. However, you could care less about work at the moment, since you were enjoying the company of the person who helped kept you tied to this world.

“You like what you see?” Mattsukawa says smoothly. The water glass is placed on the counter in front of you. After graduation from Aoba Josai, running and other kinesthetic stretches were included in his workout regiment. You froze, placing your phone face down to the extreme left of the counter space. The granite glowed in the soft lamp from behind you, casting shadows in the grooves of his muscular features.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” you tease. “But I do like the person who saved me from making a huge mistake.”

Mattsukawa nods as he leans forward to rest his chin in his hand.

“I’ll always come running to you Yin,” he gives you a nickname close to the currency your country uses. This causes you to roll your eyes, yet you reassure him it was filled with endearment.

“You sound like you’re going to love me until the day I properly die Mattsun.”

He wasn’t expecting you to climb halfway across the granite counter, stretching your back further parallel to the floor (your feet are balancing your lower half on the chair).

His hand finds its way to the small of your back and he says a quick, “pardon me.” The onyx eyes he owns close and crinkle upward like small crescent moons before you feel his pursed lips press against your forehead.

“You’re safe here,” you hear him say. His warmth is a welcomed blanket of comfort for you; his words are kinder than your own thoughts.

“Will you kiss me properly?” You ask.

“In the morning, first thing,” he answers. “But first, sleep.”

Mattsukawa walks around his counter to keep you from hanging in the balance thus lowering the risk of you falling knees first on the floor.

“Remember how you fell on top of me?” Mattsukawa’s voice is low. You swallow nervously; you affirm that you do. “Good. Now hold on to me sweetheart.”

He leans back against your left side of your suspended body and he wraps an arm around your mid-section and you push off with your elbows. The next thing you are aware of, you are being carried like a drowsy child to the living room where you sit on Mattsukawa’s lap like before. You raise a hand to his smooth face, your fingers tracing the highest points of his features; his eyes flutter close to the sensational spell you are casting; he is about to fall in the in-between of sleep and lucidity when he feels your lips press firmly against his. When you back down, he stops you with one word: “More. One more time.”

You turn your head at an angle the moment you feel his hands turn you around to straddle him more comfortably.

“Better,” you confirm. Your nose teases his own and he languidly looks at you before he pushes your back playfully and your lips meet his again.

You sigh against his lips when your knees come into contact with his cushion; his arms move away from your hips to your ribs. The callouses he earned over the years of playing volleyball in high school memorizes the map of your skin. Together, the aroma of belladonna almost dissipates the pain in your lungs the longer you are breathing in everything the young man in front of you is giving.

This was as brave as you wanted to be right now. You’d be more adventurous months into your new found relationship with your restaurant-cafe rendezvous man. Your hands trace his collar bones before they found their purchase on the sides of his neck.

“I like that,” you say when you are given a chance to catch your breath. Mattsukawa’s hands rest on your love handles again and he pushes you into a loose embrace. Your hair tickles his shoulder when you rest your head against his pectoral.

“I like this too,” he says, running his fingers lightly up and down your spine. “Close your eyes and rest for a while Yin. We can talk about this in the morning, ok?”

You stifle a yawn, agreeing.

A few minutes later, after you are truly asleep, Mattsukawa supports you in his arms and he carries you like a child, careful to support your neck as your legs rest limply above his hips, to his room. He lays you down first and then proceeds to tuck you in; staying above the duvet, he watches over you breathing in and out steadily, the last small petals escaping your lips when you cough softly in your sleep. Mattsukawa stares at the last shriveled one on the corner of your lips and swats it away.

“Pretty angel, don’t scare me like that. I don’t want to lose you,” Mattsukawa reaches over to hold your hand; fingers intertwining around your own and you squeeze his back. “You’ll be alright and I will help you keep nightmares away.”

“Why?” Your voice is laced with sleep. “Why do you want to love me?”

“Because our story is just beginning my love.”

Mattsukawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles and when he lies down further on his bed next to you, he rests a protective arm over your shoulders.